#elite squad trooper

[therainjumper]

Clonetober Day 22: Elite Squad Trooper

.. or yet another Crosshair art. He is the only Clone to be part of the Elite Squad, before he defected to be a Bad Batcher once more.

[pedroam-bang]

Star Wars: Battlefront II (2017)

[derickbatista31]

Imperial Elite Squad 

[lieutenantautumn]

Gold Squad and Adventure of White Vortex Characters Photos

Main Protagonist

(Lieutenant Autumn)

[welcometo79s]

Cody: Your squad seems to look up to you! I can tell they're very brave, dedicated men.

Rex: Yes, they are! Now, let me introduce you to my two elite ARC Troopers!

Rex, opens door to the barracks:

Fives, wrestling Echo on the floor: ECHO THAT IS MY LOAF OF CHEESE

Echo, clutching the cheese: I PAID FOR IT.

Rex: They're more competent on the battlefield I promise.

[stellarbit]

Pushing Limits

Work Count: 4.2 Pairing: fem!reader x Wrecker NSFW Warnings: Big ole size kink w/ associated pain, piv, poorly proofread Summary: The Bad Batch are sent to train some Jedi, you being amongst them. You and Wrecker can't stop thinkin about each other after you spar.

Having spent your youth in the temple, you developed a disinterest in the temptations of attraction as an adult. It wasn’t that others weren’t attractive to you; on the contrary, you found many beings attractive. Instead, your disinterest stemmed from the warnings of attachment and a lack of clarity on how to enjoy attraction without it.

So, for a short time, you’d experimented with physicalities. They required no emotional attachment, therefore, you saw no reason to not explore. The pleasure of others was a high that quickly became an unnecessary hassle. Partners could make things interesting but they rarely lived up to your expectations. Especially when you could find a more satisfying release on your own.

Training with five exceptionally trained, and exceptionally handsome, men tested that mindset.

The Bad Batch had been assigned a training mission on Coruscant. The Jedi Council requested an elite squad to train fresh Jedi Knights for a month. You were amongst the class and while the opportunity was an exciting one, your attention was hardly in the present.

At first, outside of their talent and appearances, there was nothing that you hadn’t experienced before. Not to mention the fact that clone troopers typically maintained a healthy boundary with their Jedi companions. About a week in, when individual training sessions came into play, you definitely noticed something different.

The first break in your indifference came when one of them, their technician - aptly named Tech, bluntly pointed out a weakness of yours. The comment was not only blunt to the point of tactlessness but also made in front of your fellow Jedi Knights.

"Your defense is sloppy," he observed, literally pointing at you. "You rely too much on your Force abilities. What happens when you're facing an opponent who can resist them?"

You stood still, captured in your final stance in defending against Hunter. You stared Tech down, a twitch ticking your eye as you considered his comment. A clone trooper negating your abilities certainly caught your attention - not in the most positive way. You’d shoved off the comment with more ire than your cohorts were accustomed to and were quick to dismiss yourself when the opportunity came.

Later that same evening you found appreciation for Tech’s observation. Despite receiving consistent praise for your abilities, no one had truly challenged you in recent memory. You prided yourself on maintaining humility, yet it seemed humility alone couldn't shield you from becoming complacent.

Impressed and eager for further challenge, you welcomed the next training session.

The troopers adjusted to instructing without an audience, most likely due to your reaction. Leaving you one on one with two troopers Wrecker and Hunter, one to spare with and the other to observe. 

“Wrecker here even bested General Skywalker once,” Hunter boasted, playfully clapping his brother on the shoulder. “He’s sure to teach you a thing or two.” With that, Hunter stepped back from the ring, gesturing grandly towards his imposing brother.

Facing Wrecker was a new challenge; his sheer size was unlike any opponent you had faced before. Initially, you managed to agilely dance around him, but it wasn't long before he caught you. With a swift pull, he twisted your arm behind you and pressed your back against his chest. Despite your struggles against his overwhelming strength, it all seemed futile until you managed a desperate kick against his ankle.

Even without the help of the Force, your strike was enough to unbalance him, and you both tumbled forward.  Wrecker freed arm and pulled up a knee to soften the blow. Regardless of his efforts he landed on top of you, caging you in and his weight pressing down. He groaned as he collected himself, his body shifting against you. Most noticeably you felt the hard mound of his codpiece grinding against you.

The position you were in registered with you - and the parallels it had to a more intimate variety. For the first time in a long time, heat rushed to your core. As he shifted to regain his bearings, the unintentional contact sent an unexpected rush of warmth through you, drawing a quiet bite to your lip to suppress any involuntary sounds.

“Ugh,” Wrecker shook his head and sat back on his knees. “Sorry about that, but good hit.” You quickly squirmed out from underneath Wrecker, acutely aware of his view of your ass. 

“If you’re going to crush someone,” You hissed as you freed yourself. “Maybe ditch the armor.”

Wrecker glanced down at himself, but smiled sheepishly. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that.”

From across the room, Hunter shook his head. “You need to learn how to get away from someone bigger than you.” He waved a hand between you and his brother. “If all it takes to bring you down is getting caught, you’ll end up dead in no time.”

Your cheeks flushed at the perceived scolding. 

“Hey,” Wrecker leaned over, giving an encouraging shake. “Don’t you worry. That’s what I’m here for.”

The idea of regularly sparring with Wrecker sent another wave of heat through you. You believed in his reassurance, you knew you’d learn quickly enough. It was having to simultaneously learn a lesson in focus that was now daunting you. Although, you though, what’s work without a little fun?

Offering him a rare smile you sighed, “I’m sure you’ll be teaching me a lot.”

Your lessons were daily and scheduled like a training camp. Each member of Clone Force 99 instructed a variety of trainings and your class rotated through them in teams as welll as solo. You took something from each exercise, absorbing as much out of the trainings as possible. Your lessons with Wrecker, however, were always the highlights of your days. 

Not only were his exercises in close combat and strength training personally fun for you, feeling his body against you in any way left you panting in a different way. There was a rush in being turned on by Wrecker without his knowledge. His instruction required his frequent touch as he moved you through maneuvers, while his sparring was aimed at capturing you.

You let him more times than you liked to admit. But Tech had been right, without using the Force to push opponents or jump away you found evading Wrecker challenging. Every time he did get a hold of you it was a struggle to both get free as well as not go limp in his arms. 

Your favorite was his snatching you by the waist and yanking you back against him. It delivered enough force to hide how you pressed back into him. He’d come to training sans armor since your first lesson, but you still felt the cup he wore when he was against you. 

You'd done an excellent job of hiding your perverted intentions until you landed in the same position that got you into this mess.

Wrecker had set you up to be captured again. You nearly ducked out of his reach but he swung his arm with surprising agility and slammed you back against him. As you did the very first time, you kicked a foot into his ankle and knocked him off balance. The two of you tumbled to the ground and, while he did his best to soften the blow, Wrecker weighed down on top of you. With his crotch nestled perfectly into your ass, you mindlessly ground back into him. 

You weren’t able to stop your body, but you caught the whine that threatened to escape you. All you could do was hope he hadn’t felt you as Wrecker gathered himself. The familiar press of his cup to your backside almost made you repeat the same mistake.

"Wrecker," Crosshair interjected from the sidelines, his tone dry. "Get off her; you're crushing her." His words snapped you back to reality, reminding you of the observers. Flustered and embarrassed, you began shoving Wrecker off energetically.

“Although…” An amused air came to Crosshair’s voice. “She might like it.” It was an obvious tease, but your guilty pleasure added unintended weight to it.

If anyone’s enjoying this, Wrecker thought to himself, it was him. A fact he struggled to hide every time he saw you. Wrecker enjoyed seeing you improve, enjoying even more how comfortable you’d become with him in the process.

Weirdly enough, you reminded him of Crosshair in the way you hid a soft side beneath your steely demeanor. The first time smiled at him after, Wrecker thought the planet had stopped spinning. 

Mesh’la, he’d thought for the first time in his life. Something he’d said to others in the throes of pleasure, but seeing you invigorated, panting, and smiling before him - Wrecker realized what the word was truly meant for. 

From that point on, he sought you out in every room, straining for any opportunity to hear your voice. He wasted no chance to approach you, even having wrangled you into sharing a meal or two with his squad. Each night he revisited the feel of you against him, envisioning how you else might feel against him. 

Ditching his armor meant he got a taste of that most times you sparred. Any time he caught you, he did it with enough force you wouldn’t catch him intentionally pressing into you. It was a risky game, but Wrecker couldn’t help himself with you. He wanted you.

So, Wrecker thought, if anyone was enjoying it all - it was him.

“Stow it, Crosshair.” Wrecker bit at his brother, trying to help you to your feet.

“Why so shy, Jedi?” Crosshair snorted, rolling a toothpick to one side of his mouth.

You shook with embarrassment, perceived by them as rage, and snapped, “You’re both insufferable.” 

Wrecker watched you march off, catching the red tint on your ears. He was upset with Crosshair for cutting his time with you short. Moreso he was worried you were upset with him. “I’m going to check on her.”

“Good luck with that,” Crosshair scoffed. “Two credits you come back missing a limb.”

Wrecker only grumbled in response, jogging off to catch up with you. You were at the helm of your quarters when he finally got to you. You stopped, took a deep breath, and turned to him.

“Wrecker, I’m sorry but -”

“Can I come in?” Wrecker took a step closer, his brows pulled together.

You blinked at him, a bit more embarrassment sinking in. Nodding along you silently motioned for him to follow. Once inside Wrecker wasted no time, he immediately started talking.

“You’re upset, I—I know," he started, clasping his hands together nervously.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Wrecker.” You blurted out, his eyes widening. 

Running your fingers through your hair you began a nervous circle around the room. "Every time you touch me, I feel like I can't breathe. When we spar, I’m imagining you—" You stopped abruptly, turning to Wrecker with a pleading look. "Wrecker, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—"

Wrecker reached out and gently grasped your shoulder, silencing your rambling. “What’re you imaginin’?” he asked softly.

Squeezing your eyes shut you quickly came to terms with telling the truth. On a fast exhale you, you met Wrecker’s eyes and admitted, “When you touch me all I can think about is you being on me and feeling your-”

“You felt that?”

A touch of panic in his voice made you hesitate, but you continued, “-codpiece against me.” His response was a few wide eyed blinks, still processing the nuance. Already prepared for embarrassment you added, “And I imagine it’s not just your armor and it’s all-” you cut yourself short when Wrecker pulled one of your hands towards him.

He pressed your palm against his crotch where a thick, hard member strained against the fabric. You instinctively slid your touch along the length of his bulge. Even through his pants you knew your hand couldn’t even close around him. Pressure twisted between your legs at the thought.

Wrecker winced at the pleasant pressure of your touch. With his eyes squeezed shut he groaned, “It’s not armor. I-I’m sorry, I thought I was hiding it.” The large man made to step back out of your touch but you stepped with him to maintain that connection.

The two of you stood like that for a few heartbeats. You had Wrecker’s full attention and with it you pressed into him, feeling the length of him twitch into your touch. 

“This,” you pressed into him for emphasis. “Is your reaction when we spar?”

Unable to resist the temptation of your touch, he rolled his hips into you. “This happens anytime you’re near me.”

Your mouth went dry at the same time warmth pooled in your core. “So you want me like I want you.”

His eyes finally opened as he searched your face. “You want me?”

Your response was pulling his hand from your shoulder and guiding him into your pants. He followed the suggestion, his two middle fingers slipping over your slit. You could feel how excessively wet you were already. So could he. “Oh you want me, alright.” Wrecker chuckled, his middle finger teasing your entrance. 

This time it was you who couldn’t resist moving. You gyrated your hips enough to get the tip of his finger inside you. Wrecker answered your touch by moving his finger and you cried out as he worked a second digit inside. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you pinned me.” You admitted.

He used his touch to lift you to your tiptoes. “You think you can take me?” It wasn’t a tease, he wasn’t challenging you. This was his asking permission.

“If I can’t,” You pressed your hand harder against his cock. “Then make me.”

“Where?” He asked and you answered with a quick nod in the direction of your bed.

Wrecker slipped his free hand beneath your ass and hauled up you up - two fingers still inside you. Walking to the bed, each of his steps pulled a noise from you as you bounced on his fingers. He plopped you both down on the bed, his back resting against your headboard.

Against your wishes, he removed his fingers from you and let you sit back in his lap.

“If we’re going to do this.” Wrecker gripped your hips and put little space between you “We take it at your pace.”

You didn’t wait for his permission as you started shedding your clothes, setting the tone early. The first to go was your top, your undergarments and all flicking over your head to the floor. Your nipples were already perked and aching for him - much like every other part of you.

“Then what are we waiting for?” You smirked as you started on your bottoms.

Wrecker grinned, a sight that almost made you moan, and sat up in bed. He pulled his top over his head, discarding it with yours. His burly chest was freckled in scars under curled hair. You momentarily dismounted him, wriggling from your bottoms as he did the same. There were only a few hot seconds until you sat naked on your knees next to him and he relaxed back in a similar state.

The trooper looked at you and his hand drifted to his cock. His cock that was even larger than you expected. Two fingers were definitely not enough of a preview for his girth. Wrecker’s fingers wrapped around himself, stroking as he watched you. “So beautiful.” He mumbled.

His words had you crawling over him, pinning his hand in place as you settled on top. Reading your movements, Wrecker met you as you leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss. He twisted his grip on himself, his knuckles grazing your folds, as he moaned into you.

You picked up the pace, frantic to taste as much of him as he could. While you sucked on his lip, Wrecker began positioning you on his cock. He was as desperate to be inside of you as you were for him.

With Wrecker’s help, you hovered over his cock. You were at the full height of your knees in order to line him up with you. Wrecker gave himself one more pump as his precum mixed with your wetness. 

His head was the first real warning of your task at hand. He was larger than you’d ever had and you were in no way ready to take him. An aspect that was making you even wetter. He didn’t slide in easily when you lowered yourself. You both moaned against the strain. “Wrecker.” You moaned into his mouth, a plea in his name.

“I gotcha.” He grasped your hip and kept a hold on his cock. Applying a steady strength, Wrecker pushed you onto his cock. When the flare of his head finally breached you, your back arched. “There we go,” he pressed you with a kiss, “that’s my girl.” 

The head of his cock already had you pushed to the limit, not helped by the fact you were already quivering for him. His size came with a pain you thought might end you and one that eagerly gave way to pleasure

“Wrecker.” You whined, a smile fluttering to your lips. Your hips undulated over him, working more of him inside of you.

A calloused hand slid up your stomach to cup your breast. Wrecker happily groaned as you moved farther down. “You feel so…” the grip you had on him pulled another groan from him. “So good.”

Wrecker supported you as you moved, consumed in watching you work him and the juices dripping down him. Each time you lifted off him, you lowered with a little more force to get more of him inside. Wrecker’s large form writhed beneath you, resisting as hard he could to not thrust up into you - he wanted you to adjust at your own pace. 

As you made a rhythm of burying him deeper inside you, Wrecker watched the shape of his cock bulge through your abdomen. Gently, he pressed a hand beneath your belly button and over the shape. The pressure sent a thrill straight to your clit, nearly undoing Wrecker with what it did to your pussy.

You were so taught around him, Wrecker feared he might literally tear you open. Though, any care he had for that was lost when your smile turned lazy and you leaned forward, arms hanging around his neck.

“Wrecker.” Each syllable came with another desperate thrust as you worked for his last two inches. You were at the limit of what you could do. “I need all of you. Please,” You tightened around him. “Just fucking ruin me.”

The plea had Wrecker rolling his eyes in time with his hips. He firmed up his hold on your hips, tilting your hips to rock his head against your abdominal wall. Wrecker brushed his lips against yours, “I jus’ don’t wanna hurt you.”

You took his bottom lip into your mouth with a gentle suck, then gently bit down until he gasped. “I don’t care.” You mumbled.

Still seated within you, Wrecker swung you onto your back. His hold on your hip suspended you in the air for him. He glanced down at where you two were joined, checking on the last bit of his length you were so hungry for. The contour of his cock already protruded through your stomach, more than anyone had ever taken him before. He really didn’t know if he’d manage the rest, but he wasn’t going to make you ask again. For you, he was determined, he was going to make it fit.

Wrecker drew back before pushing in with his own exploratory thrust. He lowered himself onto you so that he was all you could see, feel, and smell. You were eclipsed by him, hardly even able to angle your legs around him. Saddling a forearm next to your head, Wrecker kept a hand on your hip. “Now breathe, Mesh’la.”

The strange word barely reached you through your aroused fog. “Mesh’la?” You asked on an inhale, anchoring your hands on his shoulders.

He pulled back once more, as you inhaled and thrust himself firmly inside. “Beautiful.” He hummed into your ear. He didn’t stop moving when he bottomed out, he pushed through the strain, making you take him until he felt you give way entirely. You both gasped at the shared sensation. 

Wrecker pressed a kiss to your throat, smiling as he announced, “I’m all in.” Wrecked pressed another kiss to your throat and couldn’t stop grinding as you stretched around him.

You were speechless, only mewling and whining as you squirmed around him. “So full.” Each movement was tinged with pain as Wrecker stretched you completely. A sensation that flared into fervent pleasure the longer he spent inside her.

Wrecker angled your head for you to see what he’d done so far. You softly cried at the sight of a bulge below your belly button. As you watched, Wrecker rolled his hips back and thrust inside allowing you to witness him completely filling you. He hadn’t expected the way you moved in response nor how you began to relax around him.

Mindlessly, you moved yourself over him, pleasuring yourself as you rocked on his cock. Your G-spot was at constant attention as Wrecker pressed inside you.

“Ohh, you like that, don’t you?” He cooed warmly to you, moving his hips side to side against yours. 

Something in you snapped as gripped the back of his neck, forcing his eyes on you, and demanded. “Wrecker, I said, ruin me.” 

Wrecker chuckled eagerly as he obliged, moving against you with increasing speed. He lowered you both to pin you down by the hips. You braced yourself on your elbows as he mercilessly drove into you. He angled your hips just enough that he steadily brushed your clit. 

Pleasure built in you, winding tight every time Wrecker’s hips hit yours. You’d barely begun and already you were at the cusp of release. “Right there, right there, right there.” You chanted, begging with every breath for more. 

With every thrust, more heat hit your core and Wrecker felt the quaking of your core. He smiled and brushed a thumb over your lip before dipping it in past your teeth. Wrecker let you taste him for a moment before saying, “I wanna really fill you up.” Your eyes snapped to his as you smiled around his thumb. “Can I?” He asked desperately.

You eagerly nodded at him, pulling your mouth free to say, “Inside me, please.” 

His hips slammed into yours with all his might and as the first throb of his orgasm hit, you melted around him into your own. The way his cock throbbed pushed you further into delirium. As you adjusted, relaxed, and melted into your pleasure, Wrecker remained engorged and twitching inside you.

You lifted to give him a soft kiss. “That was amazing.” Wrecker hummed in response, something amusing in what you said.

“Oh, I’m not done yet.”

He pulled out of you just long enough to get his hands around you and position you onto your stomach. Wrecker lifted you by your hips, trapped you between his legs, and lined himself up with your pussy. Leaning over you, he guided your hand to sit under your navel. You could feel his cock he rammed into you, his massive size bulging against your hand. 

Wrecker leaned down to croon into your ear, “No one’s ever gonna be able to fill you again.” He started a pace of long, hard thrusts. He emptied and filled you with each thrust, making a mess of his seed already inside you. 

Pressing against the outline of his cock sent more heat to your clit, until a full body shiver wracked you. Your legs began to quiver and you clamped around him. “Wrecker,” You panted, nearly crying from the stimulation. “You’re going to make me-”

“That’s all I want.” He said and thrust into you with short, firm moves, coaxing you to release. “Cum with me, Mesh’la.”

You broke beneath him, contracting and shaking around him and he railed his cum into you. You felt his cum pumping out in thick ropes, felt your belly swell slightly from the sheer amount of his seed, before it leaked out around Wrecker.

You were panting messes by the end of it. Wrecker’s cock finally softened when he lowered you both to lay down on your sides, him still burried inside you. He gave your stomach lazy strokes as he nestled his face to your the crook of your neck.

“You okay?” He whispered.

Taking a moment to respond, you nodded. Thinking a moment longer, you twisted enough to offer him the soft spot below your ear. Wrecker took the silent offering, pressing kisses to your skin as you said softly, “I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after that.” 

A low laugh reverberated from Wrecker’s chest. “That makes two of us.” He lazily rolled his hip into yours. He rubbed his nose into your neck, smiling as he added. “Let me know when your ready for another round.”

[wistfulforstars]

Your Medicine, My Medicine

Summary: You know how to deal with Tech’s periods of hyperfixation. He’s yet to deal with yours.

Warnings: Here there be fluff! However, my blog is not for minors - Begone! Some vague allusions to sex, teasing, reader is tired, Tech is a bad influence, the squad is hopeless, reader is afab

Part 1? This one got away from me - it was only supposed to be a quick oneshot. I haven't decided if I'm going to do a spicy follow-up.

“Oh yes, go babysit this special squad of elite clones, it’s going to be so fun!” you muttered angrily to yourself, pouring over a sea of half baked statements, equipment requests, and unpaid expenses. 

A headache began to form behind your eyes as you continued to grumble, “The tall one won’t blow you up, the one with the toothpick definitely doesn’t have an attitude problem, and their sergeant absolutely knows how to fill out a mission report!”

You picked up one of said mission reports, a mostly blank page that just said NAL HUTTA. INFILTRATION. COMPLETE. scribbled across the top in Hunter’s untidy scrawl. You tossed it to the ground and thunked your head on the table, taking a moment to lay there. You needed a drink. You wondered, not for the first time that evening, where Crosshair could possibly be keeping his stash of premium Corellian whiskey.

It had been about a year since you’d joined Clone Force 99 as their Communications Officer, and every end-of-month report analysis had gone pretty much the same way. No matter how many times you’d asked your squad to be more organized, to add more detail, to consult you on expenditures, none of your instructions ever seemed to stick. Usually your superiors let it slide. This was CF99, the Bad Batch. Nobody really expected these troopers to be great at paperwork. 

But the squad had an inspection coming up. The first since you’d joined them. And they’d wracked up twice the expenses they were budgeted for, with all receipts buried in a massive pile or half singed from blaster fire. You were about to have some serious answering to do, and the only explanation you’d come up with so far was sorry sir, excuse my Shyriiwook, but how the fuck am I supposed to control these dipshits?

You had a feeling that wasn’t going to cut it.

Briefly, your mind wandered to Tech. If there was anyone on the ship who could help you sort through this mess, to see the patterns in the chaos, it was your resident genius. But he was unfortunately indisposed.

You would be lying if you didn’t say that Tech, even from the very beginning, had always been your favorite. You had clicked on an intellectual level immediately, way back on your first mission when you’d corrected him about a tradition practiced on that particular planet. Instead of being offended or taken aback by your knowledge, Tech had swiftly asked you for points of reference that he could pour into after the mission. He’d then thanked you for your input, and began deferring to you on matters within the realm of your purview. You didn’t know if you’d ever felt such a quick, simple appreciation for your talents before. It was…invigorating.

Tech listened, really, truly listened when you spoke, and always seemed incredibly flattered when you tried to return the favor. Conversation flowed naturally, often well into the night. He was polite and kind, and you’d almost go so far as to say chivalrous in his way, especially lately. Sure, all the boys usually treated you with an added layer of courtesy. You suspected it was because they didn’t quite know what to do with a woman on board. Wrecker seized heavy things from your grasp almost on instinct. Echo was so respectful it was almost disquieting. Hunter had procured extra blankets for your bunk and always made sure you had plenty to eat. And Crosshair…well, he had offered you a toothpick on occasion, but you weren’t sure if that was an attempt at bonding or if there was just something in your teeth.

Tech though…he’d started standing or sitting up perfectly straight when you entered rooms. He scolded the others for being too loud while you were trying to sleep. He was constantly finding something of yours to “fix” and then give back to you. And just a few days ago, he’d begun this little habit of offering you his hand when leaving or returning to the Marauder. As if you needed help going out the door. You’d practically squeaked in surprise when he looked up at you with earnest brown eyes, daring you to take his offered hand. Crosshair had laughed, but Tech hadn’t cared. He’d just continued to gaze at you patiently, handsome face mostly hidden by goggles and helmet. The air charged with electricity, and when you finally took hold of his hand, you could feel his warmth seeping through his glove. It felt like something between you shifted in that moment, like an invisible string had been spun and tied. You had to admit it was nice to feel cared for. It was sweet. He was sweet.

Too bad he wasn’t here.

The only problem with your… friendship with Tech is that it was sometimes unreliable. He would have these periods where he’d “go dark” as you put it. He’d get his head into a new project or concept and tune out the world for days at a time. Not sleeping, barely eating, and totally fixed on whatever new task had caught his attention. When you inquired about his well being, he would answer in vague, single syllable sentences, or worse, not at all. Being ignored didn’t feel great, but you always knew he’d come out of it tired yet pleased, and ready to show you what he’d been working on. 

However, it would be really nice if this weren’t one of those times. He’d gone under about two days ago, and hadn’t shown any signs of emerging since. You wished he was here to look through this pile with you, tell you how he’d tackle a conundrum like this, or hell, even just keep you company. His ability to focus and problem solve was one of your favorite things about him. It was no wonder he could get so much done by tuning out the world for a few days…

Suddenly, it hit you. Your head flew off the table, and you gazed down hopefully at the sea of papers, a wild look in your eye. Nevermind that you hadn’t slept yet. Nevermind that you were a little dehydrated. Nevermind that Echo still had you on concussion watch after your last mission.

That’s it! you thought. All I have to do is take a page out of Tech’s book, and this will be done in no time!

You lunged for your neglected datapad and got to work.

***********

Tech made his official appearance back into the world around 36 standard hours later, and he was very pleased with himself. He’d developed a prototype for new soundplugs for Hunter, and he couldn’t wait to force them upon his Sergeant. But first, he couldn’t deny his irrepressible urge to show you. You had always appreciated his experiments, and he always appreciated your insights.

Not to mention, he felt you were both… ah… growing closer. Tech had been interested in trying to initiate a more intimate bond with you for a few months now. Only after sufficient research into being a desirable partner and numerous mental exercises for practice did he feel comfortable moving on to the most logical next step: trying to see if you were interested in him in return. His test of trying to hold your hand to help you down from the Marauder had been a definite success. You’d met his attempts with brief shyness, amused puzzlement, and eventually (if he read your body language correctly), anticipation. That was most encouraging indeed. He focused hard for the next few days on getting through the development of his latest prototype, not because it wasn’t a fascinating project, but because he wanted to create more free time for himself. Free time he could use to observe, interact with, and, well, woo you.

His hesitance wasn’t only due to the fact that your affections were hard to read - though you did keep things with the squad painstakingly friendly and professional. Tech was fully aware that he wasn’t the most dynamic or exciting romantic choice amongst his brothers. Echo had a patience about him that he couldn’t hope to emulate, Wrecker was practically built out of fun and carried affection in every bulging muscle, and Hunter and Crosshair had a quality that the holonet had simply called ‘the bad boy thing.’ 

You were bright, achingly beautiful, and more endearing than you had any right to be. It was Tech’s opinion that one person should not be so utterly enthralling - it was simply unfair to the rest of the population. Particularly the occupants of this ship, who all adored you. You could rightly have any one of them you wanted. But yet, surrounded by such obvious choices to warm your bed and your heart, you chose to spend your time at his work table, chatting about nothing and everything. That alone gave him hope. Hope that perhaps, if he paid attention to his research and did not stick his proverbial foot in his proverbial mouth, you would grow to return even a fraction of the affection he felt for you. He could hardly wait so see how you’d been faring the last couple days.

Except every single one of his brothers were currently blocking his way.

“What possible reason would you four have for loitering outside the door?” Tech’s voice came out sharper than he meant it to. 

But none of them even looked back in his direction.

Echo turned to Hunter with a grin, “You lose, sarge. Tech came out of it first.”

Tech frowned, “While I appreciate being completely ignored when I ask a question-”

“The princess has picked up your little habit,” Crosshair tossed back at him through a toothpick. 

“My…habit?”

Wrecker finally spared him a glance, “Shortstuff hasn’t said a word since day before yesterday.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “She didn’t even want to raid the rations with me. I’m gettin’ worried.”

“Wait,” Tech said, alarmed. “You mean she hasn’t eaten?”

“Made her a sandwich yesterday,” Hunter replied, and Tech parsed through the gruff syllables to hear the concern in his voice. “She nibbled at it and kept right on with her paperwork.”

“D’you think she’s mad at us?” Wrecker fretted. “She yelled at us before about receipts.”

“And Hunter’s reports,” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter became defensive in turn, “I’ve told her before, command doesn’t care about reports, they care about results.”

“And that’s clearly made it through her thick skull, good job-”

“Boys, we really need to make sure she drinks something-”

“Should I pick her up, or-”

“How well did that idea work with Tech? He got so scared he tased you-”

“Wasn’t so bad, and I don’t think she has a taser-”

“Maybe if Crosshair hadn’t bought that new attachment-”

“Maybe if Hunter would learn to write the fucking alphabet and not scribble whatever he usually-”

Tech had heard enough. Clearly, something was very wrong with you, and he had missed it carrying on with his own experiments. He tried very hard not to let that thought consume him. You needed assistance, and his brothers were being anything but helpful. 

Using the controls he’d built into his vambrace, Tech commanded the door they were all lurking inside of to whoosh shut, nearly colliding with Hunter’s nose and snapping the end of Crosshair’s toothpick. All four of his brothers turned to glare at him. He stood tall, not bothering to hunch.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he commanded, and he barely recognized the assertive tone in his voice.

Hunter, though, looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye. Echo sobered up. Crosshair smirked, the expression slightly undercut by his frayed stub of a toothpick. Only Wrecker seemed vaguely surprised.

“She said she was gonna go do her reports,” he shrugged. “We got an inspection comin’ up or something. Next thing we know, she’s got her nose stuck in her datapad and she won’t snap out of it.”

“Won’t sleep,” Crosshair grunted. “Tried to give her tea to help. She poured it out.”

“She took my spare soundplugs,” Hunter added.

“And you can only get grunts or single word answers from her, if she answers at all. ” Echo nodded in Tech’s direction. “It’s exactly how you get when you’re trying to focus. Like she’s channeling your methods or something.”

Tech crossed his arm, “She must be very worried about how the inspection will reflect on her. Did anyone tell her that half the time the officer doesn’t even bother to show up? And when they do, we pass on successful mission count alone?”

His brothers glanced at each other, silent. He sighed, “Perhaps, since these are, as you say, ‘my methods’ I can get her to snap out of it.”

Hunter brightened almost immediately, and if Tech weren’t so worried about you - had you really not slept all this time? - he would be a little wary of the snide glance his sergeant sent the rest of the squad.

“You know, Tech, that’s a great idea,” Hunter clapped him on the back. “In fact, since this is a delicate matter that you know so much about, would you mind if we left it to you?”

“That’s right,” Echo added, now also sporting a winning smile. “You’re the best man for the job, Tech. We’ve tried everything, it hasn’t worked. And we were about to go out for supplies anyway.”

Crosshair even joined in, toothpick miraculously replaced, “The town’s some distance away, so we won’t be back till after nightfall. Might have to spend the night out there. You can help miss perfect sort herself out while we’re gone.”

Tech glared at his brothers. How subtle did they think they were being?

Kind Wrecker hesitated, “Will she be alright though? Tech?”

He adjusted his goggles, clicking his teeth together, “I will do everything I can for her Wrecker.”

Crosshair snorted behind him, and Tech whirled on his squad, already heading towards the door, “Laugh all you want, but you and your discourtesy caused this, all of you! That woman has been much more help to us than we’ve ever been to her, and if you come back without copious signed and annotated receipts for everything you buy, you will not be setting foot back on this ship! Do you copy, troopers?”

Crosshair laughed his way out the door, but Hunter nodded sincerely before departing. Echo sent a salute Tech’s way with his scomp, before dragging Wrecker, who looked like he might start crying, out of the ship.

The door shut, and Tech locked it from his vambrace for good measure. Silence.

Finally, he headed down through the doorway to get a glimpse at your exhausted frame, folded nearly in two over your makeshift workstation. You didn’t stir as he approached, but perhaps that was because of the soundplugs in your ears. 

Your eyes, frantically scanning a shoddy piece of paperwork, were red and sunken. You mumbled nonsense to yourself in a voice with a slight tremor, and Tech could have sworn you had lost weight since he saw you last.

His mind ran through different possible reasons you might have ended up like this, and then twice as many tactical and complicated scenarios in which he could try and get you to stop and get some rest. But he found he was becoming too concerned for any of those. The diminished light in your eyes, the lack of luster in your hair, it was all instilling in him a less-than-dignified response akin to panic. Tech was a survivor of countless dangerous encounters, but none of them set him on edge quite in this way. 

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he reached out carefully and laid a hand on your shoulder. No response. He frowned. 

“Meshla,” he spoke quietly yet firmly. “I am going to remove your soundplugs.”

He reached both hands out and plucked them from your ears, but aside from a waved hand and a mumbled, “I told you to go away, Hunter,” you didn’t react. Your eyes remained glued to the form.

Alright, he’d try not to be too offended by that. He, after all, was sometimes slightly confused when he came out of a hyperfixated state, and he was too knowledgeable of himself to not see how hypocritical he was being.

He leaned forward, and his mouth nearly touched the back of your ear, “It’s not Hunter,” he breathed. “It’s Tech.”

You jumped, startled, and whirled around to face him, “Tech! Oh…hi, Tech! W-when did you get, um, get…?”

“Just a little while ago,” he answered. “And imagine my surprise when I come out only to find you working yourself to death.”

At this, a little fire crept into your dull eyes, “Throwing stones in a glass ship, Tech?”

“Don’t start that,” he warned. “I am genetically engineered for more stamina, to require less nourishment, and with the capacity to-”

“Don’t start that,” you barked. “I can gauge for myself how much stamina I have and how much nourishment I require. Poor little nat-born me has months of paperwork to sort through-”

“Paperwork that does not technically need to get done,” he said, and he saw the way you furiously zeroed in on his raised pointer finger. “We will pass inspection regardless.”

But you weren’t giving up, “This is my job, Tech! It might not be a state-of-the-art invention or a new fucking discovery, but it’s mine, and I don’t appreciate you trivializing my role on this ship!”

With that, you turned back around sharply, and started tapping on your datapad so hard that Tech thought he might have to replace the screen. He stood there for a moment, assessing. Clearly, this required a little more than your usual style of interaction. You were tired, and more prone to anger than he’d ever seen you. He’d been attempting to appeal to your own sense of self preservation, but you might be needing a more emotional approach.

Fine, if you wanted to play hardball, he’d play. He smoothly invaded your space, your hunched shoulders to his front, and leaned over, placing his hands on the desk at either side of your body.

“Wrecker is in near tears with worry,” he began, low in his voice. “And I guarantee you Hunter’s having trouble getting to sleep with you up and moving all night.”

Your head jerked a little, but you didn’t answer. Tech covered the hand tapping at your datapad with his own, curling his fingers around yours. His other hand took the pad away, set it down as far as the desk would allow, and went up to stroke your hair. He could feel the tension in your shoulders loosen ever so slightly. 

He’d never touched you with such familiarity before, never felt such palpable intimacy. His heart sang as you allowed him to gently caress your hair with feather light touches. 

“I don’t think you’ve ever snapped at me like that before,” he said gently. “But then again, you’re usually well rested and well fed.”

“Not funny,” you huffed. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, reaching for your datapad.

Tech felt a surge of protective frustration in his chest. He’d never seen you this stubborn. You were taking your well-being far too lightly and he was officially tired of it, “It was not meant to be funny,” his voice was a little sharper, a little rougher. 

He seized the back of your chair, and pulled it out and around. Then he kneeled before your slumped form, and took both your hands in his own, “I can see now, that you do not understand how seeing you exhausted and neglected affects me. Allow me to correct that.”

“Tech-”

“I care for you,” he declared, words spilling from him recklessly. He had to get you to understand. “Acutely. Intensely. In a way that is often beyond my control. And I will do everything in my power, employ every skill at my disposal to avoid seeing you come to harm. Even if the one doing that harm is you.”

You blinked rapidly, surprise flooding your glazed eyes, “I-”

But he would not hear your excuses, your dismissals of his concern, “This is bad for your health, bad for my mental state, and ultimately, bad for the squad. I implore you to sleep, to-”

“Please listen-”

“No, mesh’la, there is no excuse-”

“I like you too!” you shouted, a shaking hand touching his lips to stop him from talking. 

Tech froze. Oh stars…he’d told you, hadn’t he? Kneeling on the dirty floor, both of you exhausted, in the middle of a disagreement. 

So much for his carefully curated plans to romance you.

You let out a slightly manic giggle, probably at the slack-jawed look of idiocy on his face. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, “Any ploy to win an argument, huh?”

Tech quickly laid his hand over yours, alarm rising in his chest “I assure you, cyar’ika, this was anything but a ploy. I did not intend-”

“I was teasing, Tech,” you laughed again. “Believe it or not, I’ve been thinking something was up for a couple weeks now.”

He cleared his throat, sheepish, “Ah, yes, well…I was trying to ascertain if you were remotely interested in pursuing an amendment to our current relationship.”

“You know, you could have just asked.”

He felt his cheeks heat up, “I was trying to present myself in the best possible light.”

“Oh, honey,” you smiled. “You do that every day. Though I won’t lie, helping me down from the ship was very cute.”

He sighed, relieved, “That is excellent news. The field of romantic attachments is completely foreign to me. I’ve been conducting research for weeks.”

“Oh? What kind of research?” your eyebrows rose.

“Standard romantic practices for humans,” he began listing off. “Romantic gestures in different cultures, sexual acts and techniques, common date ideas-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the grin on your face grew wide with mischief. “What acts and techniques?”

“Sexual,” he affirmed with a wave of his hand. “And a lot of my research into romantic-”

You laid your fingers against his lips again, “Oh no, mister, you don’t get to just brush over that one. You looked into the best techniques for getting me into bed? Before you even told me you were interested? Overplanning much?”

“Actually,” he mumbled beneath your hand. “It wasn’t about getting you into bed, rather more about what to do with you once you were there.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes, “No matter how smart they are, pretty boys are all the same. Tech, that’s something we figure out together. Something we talk about and learn about as we go.”

Tech felt something very warm and light settle into his chest, “I understand what you’re saying,” he took your hand away from his mouth by the wrist, before examining it closely, reverently. He placed a brief kiss to your knuckles, and nodded to himself when he heard your little gasp. “But a woman like you, spectacular and brilliant as you are...you deserve the best in every regard. I have no experience to draw upon, so I decided to supplement that with knowledge. Carefully stored and memorized, of course”

He gazed up at your face, some of his nervousness from the past few weeks bubbling to the surface again. There was always a possibility that you wouldn’t be interested in a partner with no experience in the bedroom. But your eyes were shining, and that gave him hope.

“Tech,” you shook your head. “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to be the one giving you a memorable, enjoyable first time?”

He inhaled sharply, his heart hammering in his ears, “I will admit, it did not.”

You hummed, leaned forward, and reached for his face, drawing him up to your own, “Is this alright?” Your breath fanned over his lips, his chin. 

Tech found himself nodding, a little too frantically, and the next moment your lips were on his, and oh, this was very different from reading about kissing. His heart rate spiked, his hands twitched of their own accord, yearning to grab hold of you, and he was suddenly all too aware of his own body. His goggles fogged up. His cock tightened in his bodysuit. 

Then you grasped the nape of his neck and moaned into his mouth, and that was all it took to break his hesitancy. He grasped at your hips, and, utilizing a strength he didn’t usually have need for, he stood up with you in his arms. You wrapped your gorgeous legs around his waist and ground against his zipper. He gasped, and you took advantage, tongue darting inside, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. 

Tech sampled your mouth in turn, rubbing your hips with his thumbs, before slowing and gently pulling away. He stared at you, breathing hard. Your pupils were dilated with want, your lips swollen, and your fingers played with the little hairs at the back of his neck. You were completely and utterly perfect…

And you hadn’t slept in two days. 

You leaned in to kiss him again, but Tech rested his forehead against yours, still catching his breath, “This is not going any farther tonight, darling.”

He wished he had his recorder on. The pout you gave him was positively adorable, “Why?”

“Because you are tired beyond your limits, and I would be horribly remiss to have you exhaust yourself further by trying to perform for me in any way.” Not usually one for making himself feel strong or manly, Tech found he did like the weight of you in his arms, of your hands clinging to him. Depending on him. 

“And,” he interrupted before you tried to argue. “Even though you thwarted my long and meticulous plan to confess my feelings, I still reserve the right to woo you.”

You snorted a little, “Woo me?”

“Yes, mesh’la. I would like to spend some time with you in a romantic capacity before we run away with our urges.” He began walking you both back towards the bunks. 

“B-but! The boys are gone!”

“Which means we will not have to put up with Wrecker’s snoring,” he said simply. He plopped you into his bunk, but hesitated before he took off his first piece of armor, “I can take you back to your bed, if you prefer.”

But you just grinned and shook your head, “Don’t you dare. If I don’t get to break my three year dry spell, I better get to cuddle.”

He raised a brow, logging that bit of information away, but began stripping his armor and tossing it on the floor. He crawled into bed and felt his face warm at how you immediately attached yourself to his side, “I would like to take you out tomorrow.”

You yawned, the stress of everything finally catching up, “Yeah? Where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere,” he stroked your arm. “On a walk, to a nearby town if there is one. Maybe just to see the sunset.”

You hummed contentedly, “That sounds nice,” and you leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Tech, well he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to it…he melted, “How does a woman like you have a three year dry spell?”

You chuckled, “Break it for me and I’ll tell you all about the short string of losers, cheaters, and one particularly scary bounty hunter that had me swearing off men.”

“Hmm… I find myself more and more grateful that I decided to research this topic.”

He frowned, still unenthused by the idea of laying back and letting you do all the work. He would much rather be the one performing, excelling at pleasing you. Plans began to form in his head, of romance, seduction. He didn’t read through hundreds of articles for nothing, and he was determined that you would be pleased. 

“Tech,” you insisted, but your eyes were closed and your words were slurred. “I’m serious, we’re gonna… make your first time about you, whenever it happens. We’ll do whatever you want to do.”

He decided to try something small before bed. Just a taste of what he had in store for you. One article he’d read mentioned the best ways of initiating interest, and one of them was… talking to one’s partner. In a very particular way,  “But… what if what I want mesh’la… is to have you under me, limp, pliable, hoarse from screaming my name?”

You shivered at the deep voice he’d employed, and Tech waited, amused, as you struggled find words. This was more fun than he'd expected. He leaned in again, lips grazing your ear, "No more skipping meals. No more going without sleep."

"Tech-"

"Promise me," oh he delighted in the wicked, taut energy between you. He wanted to stoke it higher, hotter. "Promise me, and maybe tomorrow we can discuss all the ways you want to make my first time memorable."

Your breath hitched, and you let out a sweet little squeak, but you kept ahold of yourself enough to give a bit back to him, "Only if you promise too. That you'll start sleeping properly. I'll sleep next to you every night if you just come to bed."

Tech sucked in air through his teeth, heart pounding against his rib cage, "I will...try, mesh'la."

He kissed your ear, satisfied when he felt you quake again, "Then get some rest, darling. We're both going to need it."

"Thank you. So will I."

[gars-weaponeer]

The Bullied Bad Batch?

Here comes a controversial take...

But It kind of always rubbed me the wrong way to see the first episode of the bad batch and have this narrative that they have always been bullied by the other clones for being different, like some sort of Star wars Loosers club.

It really doesn't makes sense to me. Specially comparing them to their episodes in the Clone Wars.

For starters: Sure, they are called "defective clones"... but are they really? Nothing about their mutations gives them an actual defect or a weakness. The closest we have is Tech's intelligence being so great he is way to logical about everything and lacks in social interactions.

But other than that the fact that Hunter's heightened senses overwhelm him sometimes, or that Crosshair's eyes are sensitive to bright lights, or that Wrecker's Muscles are in constant pain are all fandom made.

They were not just "born defective" like 99 and the Kaminoans decided to let them out into the world see what happened. They presented "some" mutations and the Kaminoans enhanced said mutations to make them perfect soldiers.

They are an an experimental group sure, but they were treated as a clone comando squad, an elite group.

I find it very hard to believe that an "elite group" would be bullied for being "different". It's like saying the Delta Squad was bullied by the other ct troopers.

Not to mention, their actitudes in their clone wars episodes are more akin to bullies. They are arrogant, They pick up fights with the other clones, They undermined the other clone's thoughts, ideas and even abilities. They don't follow orders and do things their own unorthodox way. Hell! even the "Reg" name they give regular clones sounds almost like an insult or a slur.

So why did we suddenly pass from: "They are just Regs, they cannot compare with us" to "The regs are calling us names, we have no friends in the school cafeteria." ???

-But Weaponeer! - I hear you say - They are called the Bad Batch because they were born defective.

And to that I say, NO. They are called "Clone force 99" because they were born with mutations (like 99). They call themselves "The Bad Batch" because they are a group of edgy, rebellious, younger clones that are aware they are different from the rest.

Let's not forget that deleted scene where we learn the Bad Batch had some nose art of a sexy Padme. That reads: "Born to be Bad."

Just so you can understand their actual energy.

That said, I think the writers should have kept the Bully Bad Batch on their series. At least on the first episode, when they are still in the GAR.

IMAGEN THIS:

The Bad Batch is an experimental group that is very important for the Kaminoans. So much so that they are given preferential treatment over regular clones, even comando clones.

They have their own personal barracks, They have their own ship that is theirs, They are allowed to do as they wish during missions since Kaminoans want to test them and record their evolution.

The Bad Batch know they are the Kaminoan's favorites, so does the regular clones and they hate it.

To regular clones it feels unfair. They are the ones that run into the battlefield and fight endless hoards of droids daily just to have this bunch of reckless clones rush in, do whatever they want, explode something and receive all the praise.

Not to mention that The Bad Batch is not nice about it either, they are arrogant, they boast, they call the other clones "regs" and compare their superior abilities to the rest constantly, almost like they forget they are clones too.

Worst part is, the Regs can't really do anything about it. Pick up fights with them always ends up badly. Wrecker is strong enough to send any reg to the med bay with one punch, Hunter can always anticipate punches and Crosshair has excellent aim when throwing the cafeteria trays.

The only one there that does not condone the behavior of his peers is Echo. Despite being a Reg he was accepted by the Bad Batch thanks to his unusual appearance and skills, but Echo is constantly trying to stop them from being mean to his other brothers. Not that it does much as the Bad Batch still see Echo as the "newbie" despite him being an ARC trooper.

But they are not bad people, they do have a sense of duty and honor like any other clone and they wouldn't really cause real harm to an ally. They see Omega and treat her with care, after all she is a young girl and they are not animals. They see the "insurgents" they were sent to kill and of course they cannot do that! Killing innocents? that's not what they do!

When they rebel from the Empire and go AWOL their whole world comes crashing down.

They no longer have the protection of the Kaminoans, they are no longer the favorite clones, now they are the traitors, hunted down not only by the whole empire but by one of their own.

This sudden change would make the batch wake up and turn from unruly teens to mature adults.

Hunter now has to be the mature leader and guide his team to safety in a harsh galaxy that keeps getting more and more dangerous. He has to be more careful, to a point that he is almost afraid of taking risks, specially since he has Omega to worry about. It would give him some character arc in which he passes from being carefree, to overly cautious, to learning to balance both.

Tech would learn that even though he has all the theory, he doesn't have all the practice. Nothing is as easy as just saying it, and things that he used to take for granted are now being mayor issues.

Echo's knowledge of the galaxy and skill would be more useful to his peers, but his tendency to distrust causes him problems in the long run. Not to mention he would still not be happy about sitting down doing nothing while his brothers are suffering at the hands of the Empire.

While Wrecker is having the hardest time adapting to their new life, being the more immature of the bunch. He learns that he cannot be as reckless as he has always been during their time in the GAR, specially when they have Omega to worry about.

That's Right people! MORE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! I think it would have been interesting to see that sort of dynamic.

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

Then Again, these are just my thoughts. You are welcome to agree, add your own thoughts or just ignore them if they are not your cup of tea.

If you reached all the way down here thank you for reading ♥

And may the force be with you.

[aynavaano]

Dark Paradise

Kinktober `24 - dark room/anonymous sex/group sex

Your choice of clone(s) × F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: You've heard whats going on upstairs at 79’s and tonight you decide to try it.

Notes: I can’t believe I wrote this. Don’t even look at me, this is pure filth and I have no excuse. Description of what’s happening in a dark room. There is lot’s of unprotected sex, oral(f and m receiving), kind of barracks bunny? The description is kept vague and the room is dark so you can imagine it beeing your clone(s) of choice. This is part of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my request are open. All for our favorite copy paste men.

Tonight 79's was more alive than usual, laughter and chatter filling the bar as clones and civilians mingled together. It seemed a few battalions were in for quarterlies at the same time. The familiar smell of drinks, sweat, and cheap food filled the air as you navigated your way through the throng of bodies, your eyes instinctively scanning the room.

Your gaze first landed on a few Coruscant Guards, their red and white armor standing out in the crowd. They were regulars here, often taking up the same tables whenever they were on leave. Tonight, however, there was a greater mix of clones than usual, and as you continued to glance around, you noticed lot’s of white and blue armor scattered throughout the room. 501st troopers, their distinctive color making them easy to spot. They seemed to be blowing off steam, you even spotted a few troopers in white and orange armor from the 212th, drinking and laughing nearby.

Your attention was drawn to a specific table, though. It was occupied by what you could only assume were commanders—men who carried themselves with an air of authority. One of them, in particular, stood out immediately. Wolffe.

You recognized him right away, his grey white armor, the scar running across his face and his piercing cybernetic eye making him impossible to miss. You had... history with him. Your stomach fluttered slightly at the memory of your brief but intense encounter. His gaze, as sharp as ever, scanned the room in a manner that suggested he was aware of everything happening around him.

You made a beeline for the bar before he could spot you, you had different plans tonight. Then, in the corner, your eyes caught sight of another group. These clones were different, and it wasn’t just their black and red armor that set them apart. They were seated away from the rest, almost as if they preferred to keep to themselves. The distinct markings on their armor marked them as members of the elite squad known as the Bad Batch. Even seated, their presence was commanding, and they seemed quieter than the rowdy groups of 501st and 212th troopers, observing rather than fully engaging with the revelry around them.

You’ve never seen them here before, only heard of them, but they were hot.

You pulled your gaze away and made your way to the bar. You leaned against the counter, watching the sea of armor and uniforms, feeling a familiar, restless heat building inside you. It had been weeks since you'd last been satisfied, and the men in here -all strong, built, and confident- were tempting you more than you could bear. You licked your lips as you scanned the room, each clone more attractive than the last.

You'd heard whispers about what went on upstairs at 79's - the dark room where anyone could go, seeking quick satisfaction without names or faces. The idea had always thrilled and terrified you in equal measure.

You'd never dared to venture there. But tonight, after weeks of pent-up desire, the temptation was too strong. Tonight, you were sex-starved, and all the rules you usually held yourself to seemed unimportant. You wanted this. You wanted to be touched, claimed, filled without the usual game of having a drink or two and then hoping your choice of the evening would take you some place more private.

A particular clone caught your eye, his broad shoulders and easy confidence standing out even among the crowd. He was tall, his skin a beautiful tone of caramel and the silhouette of his armor sharp as he moved through the room. You watched as he headed for the stairs, your pulse quickening as you realized where he was going.

The dark room.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You had fantasized about it, the thrill of being touched by strangers, of surrendering to the anonymity of the space, letting yourself go. Your heart pounded in your chest as you made your decision. Tonight, you'd take that risk.

You ordered yourself a drink, something strong to ease your nerves, and downed it quickly, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. Then, with one last glance at the stairs, you headed toward the women's restroom. Your breath was shallow as you locked the door behind you, the anticipation building with every second.

Standing in front of the mirror, you looked at your reflection - flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted with excitement. You reached down, sliding your hand between your legs, teasing yourself where the wetness had already begun to pool. Your fingers slid through your folds, just enough to warm yourself up, your breath hitching as you touched your clit. You were ready for this. So ready. After a few moments, you straightened, took a deep breath, and slid your panties off, tucking them into your clutch.

With one last look at yourself in the mirror, you turned and walked out, making your way upstairs to the dark room. The nerves prickled under your skin as you approached the unmarked door.

You pushed it open, stepping inside, and the world around you shifted into complete darkness. The air was thick with heat and sweat, the faint sounds of whispers and bodies moving against each other filling the space.

Your heart raced, your senses heightened in the absence of sight. You waited for your eyes to adjust but they didn’t, it was pitch black. The darkness was thrilling. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel everything - every brush of fabric, every shift of movement in the room. You stepped forward carefully, your breath shallow as you ventured deeper into the room, your body buzzing with anticipation.

And then, you bumped into someone.

Before you could react, hands were on you. Not just one pair - several.

Large, strong hands gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress. You gasped, your pulse skyrocketing as one hand slipped beneath your dress, hiking it up to expose your bare skin.

"No panties, seems someone’s eager" a voice murmured, filled with appreciation.

A shiver ran down your spine as fingers trailed up your thigh, finding you wet and ready.

You heard a soft gasp of surprise as one of them realized how slick you were, the heat between your legs betraying just how much you wanted this. You barely had time to react before someone dropped to their knees behind you, and the next thing you knew, a hot mouth was on you.

You moaned as a tongue pressed into your folds, licking and sucking at your pussy with an intensity that made your knees weak. Hands continued to roam your body, pulling your dress down to expose your breasts, pinching your nipples, squeezing your ass. You were surrounded, claimed by their touch, the darkness only amplifying the sensation.

"Fuck, she's so wet”, one of them whispered, his voice rough with lust.

You didn't know who they were, and in this moment, you didn't care. All you could focus on was the overwhelming pleasure. The tongue between your legs worked expertly, and you bucked against them, your body desperate for more. Hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against the mouth that devoured you.

Suddenly, someone stepped in front of you, pressing the thick head of their cock against your lips. You moaned, opening your mouth eagerly, taking him in as he slid between your lips. His hand threaded through your hair, gently guiding you as you sucked him, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head.

"Good girl," a deep voice rumbled above you, sending another shiver through your body.

Your mind was spinning from the sensations - one cock in your mouth, another pair of hands working your body, a tongue between your legs. The feeling of being used by all of them, of being taken so completely, had you trembling with need.

And then, just as you were about to fall apart, the mouth on your pussy was replaced by something thicker, harder. You gasped around the cock in your mouth as someone slid into your pussy from behind, filling you to the brim with one smooth thrust.

"She's tight," the voice from behind you groaned as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he started to move. "So fucking tight."

You moaned around the cock in your mouth, your body stretched and filled in every possible way. The rhythm between them was perfect - one thrusting into your mouth as the other fucked you from behind, their movements in sync, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it," the voice behind you growled, his hips slamming against your ass as he picked up the pace.

"You're taking us so well, sweetheart.”

Your body was on fire, pleasure building with every thrust. You could barely think, lost in the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. Your hands gripped the cock in front of you, desperate for more as you sucked him deeper into your throat.

You were surrounded and claimed by the men around you. Their armored bodies pressed against your soft skin, their hard edges digging into you, heightening every sensation. The cock in your pussy pounded into you relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge, while the man in front of you thrust deeper into your mouth.

"She's close, getting so karking tight" someone murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You could feel it - the tension coiling in your core, ready to snap at any moment. The hands on your body, the feel of their armor, the sensation of being taken by multiple men at once - it was almost too much. You moaned around the cock in your mouth, your body trembling as the man behind you pounded into you with abandon.

"Come for us," the man inside you growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.

"Let that perfect little pussy squeeze my cock”

With those words, your orgasm ripped through you, your pussy clenching hard around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You moaned around the cock in your mouth, your entire body shaking as you came.

“Fuck”

The man behind you groaned loudly, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, spilling inside you with a deep, guttural moan. The one in front of you wasn't far behind, groaning as he pushed deeper into your mouth, his cock pulsing as he came down your throat. You swallowed eagerly, your body still trembling with aftershocks as you took everything they gave you.

Before the pleasure had fully faded, he pulled out, but his place was immediately replaced by another cock, hard and ready.

You barely had time to catch your breath before the next man was inside you, filling you once again. The sensation of being fucked over and over, by man after man, their armor pressing against your skin, their hands all over you, pinching you nipples, fingers pushing into your mouth, it was overwhelming. You lost count of how many times you came, your body spent but still craving more. It was intoxicating you couldn’t get enough and you knew you’d be sore the next day, but you didn’t care, you wanted more.

Fingers slid into your pussy next, followed by another cock, and the cycle repeated. Your throat was raw from moaning, your legs trembling and obscene amounts of cum dripping down your thighs as they fucked you hard and fast, each one claiming you like you were theirs.

By the time you finally left the dark room, your legs were shaky, your body blissed out from more orgasms than you could count, your pussy leaking cum with every step you took and you felt completely satisfied, your skin buzzing with the afterglow. You couldn’t stop smiling and you knew you'd be coming back for more.

When you got home later that night, you reached into your clutch for your panties, but instead, you found a small note. Your panties were gone.

With a sly smile, you unfolded the note, reading the simple words:

"Until next time."

You smiled.

[miss-musings]

"Can't You See They're Using You?": The Parallels Between Cid and The Empire as Exploitative Employers in "The Bad Batch"

In rewatching "Star Wars: The Bad Batch" after the series finale, I've realized just how many similarities there are between Cid and the Empire as employers for the Bad Batch and Crosshair, respectively.

I know I'm not the first person to point out how badly Cid used and abused the Batch, even from their very first meeting in 1.05 "Rampage." In fact, @xylionet has a great post summarizing just how much Cid took advantage of the Batch's -- mostly Hunter's -- desperation and inexperience dealing with the galaxy's shadier people.

But, beyond that, the show ultimately drew a lot of parallels between Cid and the Empire as employers, from their attitude toward clones to their manipulative personalities. Even the timelines for the Batch's and Crosshair's employment align very well, down to the conditions at which they start working for them and why they ultimately reach their breaking points.

Before we dive in, a few clarifications:

I'll mostly be focusing on Cid in this analysis, as I think the Empire's faults are pretty clear.

And, when I say "the Empire," I mean the Imperial officials Crosshair interacts with and/or takes orders from -- mostly Rampart and Nolan, but to a lesser degree, Hemlock and Tarkin as well.

SHARED TRAITS

Manipulative personalities

From the beginning, Cid did whatever it took to leverage the Batch into working for her.

Once she realizes that they're 1) desperate for information/money and 2) inexperienced/gullible/etc., she very quickly works to get them on her side.

She offers an exchange of information and money if the Batch bring in Muchi, but she neglects to tell them Muchi is a Rancor, probably because she figured they wouldn't have accepted the job if they knew.

As she gives Hunter the information and 30% of the cut, she says that with a bounty hunter after the Batch, they'll need "friends and money -- mostly money." It's objectively not an incorrect assessment, and she offers them more work. Hunter says he'll think about it, and that's when she pulls out the blackmail card. She knows how valuable they are and knows people are after them. If they cross her, she can turn them in.

Cid ultimately uses whatever tactics she has to get the Batch to do what she needs, whether that's sweet-talking or strong-arming or leveraging them (either financially or via blackmail).

Likewise, Rampart especially gets on Crosshair's good side by initially praising him as an experienced clone and elevating him to commander of an elite non-clone squad. He also seems to give Crosshair plenty of clone troopers as well when needed. However, once we get to the Ryloth arc, we see that Rampart is more than willing to threaten Crosshair when he feels like he's underperforming.

Even in Season 2, Rampart continues to play this game with Crosshair by praising him just enough that he still feels valued, while also demoting him and then insinuating that Crosshair needs to continue proving his worth or risk losing his position.

Assigning morally questionable jobs/missions

While this is obvious for the Empire, it's something I don't see talked about much regarding Cid.

Her clients are shady people, and she either doesn't ask her clients a lot of questions or doesn't provide that information to the Batch.

After she strong-arms them into working for her in 1.06 "Decommissioned," she sends them after a tactical droid. The information it has could be useful against the Empire, but it could also lead to the deaths of thousands of clone troopers -- the Batch's reg brothers.

This is something the Martez sisters point out to the Batch, and Hunter says they're "being paid to acquire and deliver," admitting that who the client is or why they want the information isn't a priority. The Martez sisters argue that it should be.

Granted, a lot of the jobs we actually see the Batch doing for Cid are later hand-waved as being a good thing. They deliver arms to freedom fighters on Ryloth, they reunite Ruby with her owner, they free Muchi from slavery, etc. But, there are plenty of jobs we partially see them do or hear about them doing, which could easily have been "bad" things, especially given how shady Cid's clients are.

Arguably, if Cid ever gave them information or the Batch guessed that a given job was a "bad" thing, they could just not do it for her. But, again, she has leverage over them, so I don't know whether they have much of an option.

Dislike of clones

Basically all the Imperials we meet in the show don't like clones.

Rampart pretended well enough in Season 1, but we know from later episodes that he hates them. Nolan is very brazen in telling Crosshair how much he abhors working with clone troopers, saying he "doesn't like used equipment" and that the clones are ultimately expendable. And, obviously we know of Tarkin and Hemlock's hatred for clones.

But, Cid inexplicably hates them as well.

I think she was willing to bring the Batch on because she felt she could use them, but she's very rude Rex in 1.07 "Battle Scars" and apparently didn't like hosting Gregor in 1.15 "Return to Kamino."

She tells Rex and the Batch that she's "done taking in strays," that she's not running a charity, and that her parlor "isn't a clone clubhouse."

She could feasibly have concerns that, if enough clones start hanging out at her parlor, they'd get on the Empire's radar. But, if that was her concern, there were 100 better ways to say that.

We don't get to see her interactions with Gregor, but I don't understand why she was immediately so hostile to Rex. For all she knew, he could've been there to pay her for information or hire the Batch for a job -- something where she would've gotten paid. Shouldn't she have been trying to get on his good side and at least see what he wanted first? But, instead, she immediately and very rudely dismisses him.

Also, Cid has a clone trooper helmet on the wall in her office. (It's on the lefthand side as you look at her desk.) Considering she used to be an informant for the Jedi, I wonder how she got that helmet. Was it a gift? Why would a clone trooper give her a helmet? It seems more likely that it was a trophy of some kind. She seems to have a lot of strange items around her office, but a clone trooper helmet should've been a red flag for the Batch.

Asking a lot & giving little in return

Cid ultimately had the Batch risking their lives for her and her clients, and was apparently only giving them 30% of the payout.

By 1.07 "Battle Scars," they're also in debt to her despite doing at least 10-12 jobs for her. In 1.10, Cid tells them that the Batch needs "a big score for us to be square," and Omega ultimately pays off the debt by hustling people at the strategy game.

So, even if after 1.10, the Batch renegotiated off-screen so that Cid started covering their expenses and that their standard 30% is pure profit, that still seems incredibly low to me. I would think 40-40-20, with the 20% going to cover expenses would be a decent starting point.

But, apparently, they're still doing jobs for her in Season 2 and still only getting 30% -- their standard rate. We're not sure what their success rate is, but they've been able to complete some big jobs for her. They definitely should've renegotiated up to at least 50% or something, especially considering how frequently they were endangering themselves and Omega on these jobs.

With Crosshair and the Empire, he doesn't really have much in the way of benefits, because the Empire ultimately considers all the clones their property.

They were never given a choice on whether they wanted to serve the Empire once it replaced the Republic. They're assigned these dangerous and morally questionable/reprehensible missions. If they question their orders or refuse, they're labeled traitors and arrested; and if they leave, they're branded deserters.

Crosshair at least gets room and board, but he probably isn't getting paid much or at all. Once Senator Chuchi's bill passes in 2.08 "Truth and Consequences," he might be eligible for a retirement/severance package like we see the clones talking about in 2.12 "The Outpost," but he likely wouldn't have a say on when he gets to retire/leave.

Meanwhile, Crosshair and the other clones are risking their lives for the Empire. We see in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," that the clone troopers are sent in to complete the most dangerous work -- securing Desix and freeing the Imperial governor. But, once it comes to actually occupying the planet, the Empire assigns stormtroopers.

I also always found it interesting that the clone troopers bothered to get Crosshair medical attention in 1.08 "Reunion," but Nolan doesn't in 2.12 "The Outpost." I feel like the clones, at minimum, cared about each other even under Imperial command. But as more non-clones started taking command, they basically said, "Why bother? Clone troopers are a relic of the past, and we have millions of TK troopers who can take their place."

Lack of intel/resources to complete missions

Speaking of 2.12 "The Outpost," we hear about Mayday's predicament: The Empire doesn't provide enough men to defend the oh-so-valuable cargo at the Outpost and doesn't provide the equipment needed to keep their troopers safe. They have to wrap their armor to stay warm; the conditions degrade the sensors; they don't have the tools needed to disarm mines; and so on.

Similarly, the Batch bring up several times in Seasons 1 and 2 that Cid withholds information about their jobs.

Wrecker in 2.11 "Metamorphosis": Limited intel. Huh. There's a surprise.

Maybe sometimes her clients or sources don't give her information as we see in 2.11 "Metamorphosis," but there are plenty of times where she purposely withholds information, like Muchi being a Rancor in 1.05 "Rampage."

Cid was either accepting jobs without much intel because she was getting overconfident in the Batch's abilities, or -- more likely -- she was getting greedy and sending them on as many jobs as possible regardless of the conditions.

The latter seems more likely, especially with how it aligns with how the Empire treats the clones. They're more than ready to put money into the TK trooper program -- and we know from the Original Trilogy that TK troopers are also essentially treated as expendable -- but the Empire clearly doesn't give a crap about the clones, especially after 2.08 "Truth and Consequences."

Ultimately, both the Batch and Crosshair and the other Imperial clone troopers have to make do with the little they’re given, despite putting so much on the line for their employers.

“All you’ll ever be to them is a number”

Something I haven't talked about much yet is how Hunter is so prescient about Crosshair being used by the Empire, but doesn't see how Cid is using him and his family to a similar degree.

This is something @xylionet pointed out too:

It’s rather ironic that Crosshair and Hunter are both able to see each other’s situations for what they are, but not their own.

One of the things that hit me during my rewatch of 1.15/16 was Hunter telling Crosshair: "All you'll ever be to them is a number" referring to the Empire.

Admittedly, Hunter isn't wrong. As we see, all the Imperial officials Crosshair interacts with only call him by his CT number, never by his name. (The only exceptions are fellow clones like Cody, Mayday and Emerie.)

And, in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," when Crosshair asks Rampart about Commander Cody, Rampart acts like he's never heard the name Cody before in his life. He ONLY knows Cody -- one of the most famous commanders in the entire Galactic Army of the Republic -- by his number. Hell, even EMPEROR PALPATINE knew Commander Cody's name in "Revenge of the Sith."

But, while the Empire being a bunch of assholes makes sense, what gets me is that Cid is the exact same way:

She ONLY ever called the Bad Batch members by her little nicknames.

Cid absolutely knew their names. She would have to if she was ever planning to turn them in, as she eventually does. Maybe she didn't know their clone numbers, but she definitely knew what they called each other.

Yet, even in those moments where they came through for her like in 1.13 "Infested" and 2.04 "Faster," she never uses their names as a sign of respect or gratitude. Hell, even after Tech dies, she still only called him "Goggles."

Now, I'm not saying that nicknames are inherently bad. I have plenty of nicknames for people, and vice versa. But, I think there has to be an established relationship first, and then the nickname should be a sign of affection rather than a way to demean someone.

Cid calls the Batch mostly by their outward appearances or accessories -- Tiny, Muscles, Goggles, Bandana, Dark & Broody. (Note: she uses "Dark and Broody" for both Echo and Hunter on different occasions.) It just indicates how she sees them -- not as people but as objects. She's only looking on the surface because that's all she cares about.

“Blind allegiance makes you a pawn”

It's obvious to see that Crosshair's misplaced loyalty to the Empire ultimately made him one of its pawns, to be used and abused.

But, as I've outlined, the Batch was in a similar position with Cid.

Hunter definitely sees that their "mutually beneficial arrangement" with Cid isn't great, but he doesn't really have much choice. They're on their own; they're deserters/traitors; and now they're in charge of a kid and being pursued by bounty hunters.

However, as I'll talk about more in a second, the Batch had several opportunities to walk away from her and try to find some other ways of "making a living." Yet, they continue to work for her despite all the red flags that they definitely see but choose to ignore. This is partly why Echo eventually leaves, because he disagrees with Hunter's decision to maintain this lifestyle rather than fighting for their fellow clones.

While Hunter is arguably the most at fault for letting Cid use and abuse them as long as she does, Cid takes advantage of Omega's loyalty the most.

Even as Omega is trying to convince Hunter and the others to -- and I can't believe I'm about to say this -- pit two crime syndicates against each other just to get Cid's parlor back ... all Cid can say is, "You tell 'em, tiny!"

Twice she asks/convinces her family to stick their necks out for Cid despite all the risks involved, and yet they get little to nothing in return -- including respect.

Despite all the risks they take for her and all the money they bring in, Cid doesn't give a crap when the Marauder gets stolen and the Batch are stranded on the mining planet in 2.09 "The Crossing." That's when the Batch -- particularly Omega -- finally reach their breaking point.

By 2.11 "Metamorphosis," Tech suggests that they only do this last job for her to ensure they leave her on good terms, because she knows so much about them. But, it's clear Omega and Hunter are fed up with how badly Cid used them, which happens to coincide nicely with Crosshair coming to the same realization about the Empire.

Which segues into the timeline analysis:

THE SIMILAR TIMELINES BETWEEN THE BAD BATCH/CID, CROSSHAIR/THE EMPIRE

Reluctant employees (early S1)

As mentioned, the Batch and Crosshair start working for their respective employers because they don’t have a lot of other options.

Crosshair is, of course, practically abducted by the Empire and forced to do its bidding under the effects of the inhibitor chip. This starts in 1.01 "Aftermath."

Meanwhile, the Batch do the initial job for Cid in 1.05 "Rampage." They do a one-off job to get intel on the bounty hunter(s) after Omega, as well as earn some much-needed cash. The Batch didn't really have much of a choice in either finding or working for Cid, because Cid was the only Jedi informant Echo knew how to find, and they were desperate for the intel.

Then, as mentioned, she subsequently uses strong-arming and blackmailing as needed to get them to work for her in 1.06 and beyond.

Falling into a routine (mid-S1)

By 1.07 "Battle Scars," we can see the Batch has fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. As she said, they need friends and money with bounty hunters after them, and they don't really have any other ready sources of income (as demonstrated in 1.04 "Cornered').

Yet, despite all the jobs they've done for her, they're also in debt to her. Meaning, they can't easily walk away without giving her even MORE reason to turn them in, so they have to continue doing jobs for her in hopes of paying off the debt.

Meanwhile, Crosshair and his ES troopers have been continuing to operate under Rampart, presumably carrying out missions under his command. Granted, we don't see any of these except the Onderon mission in 1.03 "The Replacements," but based on how effective they seemed to be in 1.08 "Reunion," I imagine they were doing missions together off-screen.

The first possible turnaround point (late S1)

If we accept the fan theory that Crosshair's chip was removed or deactivated/damaged around 1.08 "Reunion," then Crosshair has regained his free will by the next time we see him in 1.11 "Devil's Deal."

Yet, despite the Empire hijacking his mind and body and forcing him to do all sorts of terrible things, he continues to work for them of his own free will. He has an opportunity to walk away, but he doesn't.

Likewise, the Batch have an opportunity in 1.13 "Infested," after Cid's parlor gets taken over by Roland Durand.

But, thanks to Omega's misplaced loyalty, Cid's blackmailing and other factors, Hunter decides to pit two crime syndicates against each other to get Cid's parlor back and continue working for her. (I cannot emphasize how stupid of a decision this was!!)

Even after Cid's schemes get the Batch in trouble with the Pykes to the point that Omega is taken hostage, the Batch continue to work for Cid. They're lucky this was a "family show," or the Pykes would've definitely killed them or injured Omega or something else just as bad.

If ever there was a time for the Batch to walk away from Cid, this would've been it -- either before the job or after. But, like Crosshair, they don't take the opportunity to walk away.

The second possible turnaround point (S1 finale)

Crosshair had another opportunity to leave the Empire and rejoin his brothers at the end of 1.16 "Kamino Lost." But, instead he decides once again to double-down and stay with the Empire for a myriad of reasons that might have to be its own meta some day. (I touched on it a bit in my S1 Crosshair/loyalty meta.)

But what might be overlooked is that the fall of Kamino was another opportunity for the Batch to leave Cid.

Again, the reason they sought her out and one of the reasons they started/kept working for her was because bounty hunters were after Omega. The bounty was active through 1.09 "Bounty Lost.” At that point, the Batch learn that Lama Su put the bounty on Omega because she's crucial to their cloning operation.

But, as the Batch see for themselves, Tipoca City is decommissioned and destroyed. The Kaminoan cloning facilities are gone. The Kaminoans aren't in a place where they need Omega anymore, because the Empire has effectively ended cloning (at least for military purposes).

So, they could've left Cid after the events of Season 1. Maybe they could've even left her on good terms after saving her ass in 1.13 "Infested." But, they don't.

Starting to second-guess (early S2)

Admittedly, Hunter was never super-comfortable about their arrangement with Cid, but he persisted because he didn't see a lot of alternatives.

But, Omega (and Tech and Wrecker) clearly start to have doubts about working for Cid during 2.04 "Faster." They once again stick their necks out for Cid by offering to clear her debt with Millegi. And, while Cid is grateful at the time, we see later that her gratitude is short-lived.

Based on what Millegi tells them, especially at the end of the episode, it's clear Omega (and the others) are beginning to doubt whether Cid is someone worthy of their loyalty.

Likewise, Crosshair's experiences in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone" start to plant doubts in his mind. He was stranded on Kamino for a month and comes back only to get demoted and sent on a dangerous and morally questionable mission. And while Crosshair and his squad complete the mission, and Rampart even praises Crosshair for it, we also see that Rampart really doubts Crosshair and the other clones' loyalty.

Ultimately, after his experiences with Cody and their mission on Desix, it's clear that Crosshair is beginning to doubt whether the Empire is worthy of his loyalty.

The breaking point (mid/late S2)

As I've pointed out in another post:

Both the Batch and Crosshair fell into a routine that provided them security and stability in an otherwise chaotic time in the galaxy; and both only reached their breaking points when their employers left them for dead.

For the Batch, this is a combination of 2.09-2.11. The Marauder gets stolen while they're on a job for Cid. They ask for her help, and she doesn't readily or easily commit any kind of assistance. They get the Marauder back on their own, and Cid is more than happy to give them another job, framing it as: "Do you wanna make money?"

It's become clear to them that she views them as tools -- only useful to her, not the other way around.

Meanwhile, at the start of 2.12 "The Outpost," Crosshair sees that the Empire has started to retire clones, but at least he's still getting missions.

But, Barton IV ultimately becomes his breaking point when he sees just how expendable he and all clones are. Based on what he said in 1.15 "Return to Kamino," he thought he was "superior" to the other clones, but as Nolan proves, the Empire didn't care either way.

As Mayday points out, the clones sacrificed everything for the Empire while getting nothing in return. Crosshair and Mayday are essentially left for dead, and when they come back looking like absolute hell, Nolan first yells at them for not retrieving the cargo and then tells them to get to work.

As Nolan blatantly tells Crosshair, he and all the other clones are expendable -- only worth keeping around as long as they're useful.

Not out quite yet (late S2)

By 2.13 "Pabu," we can see the Batch has completely cut ties with Cid and are working with Phee instead. Cid leaves them a message, saying that their absence has cost her a lot of money and she once again threatens to turn them in.

Despite emotionally cutting ties with her, they're still physically at her mercy to a degree. Plus, even once they made it clear they didn't want to work for her anymore, she still wants something from them and she's willing to hurt them if they don't cooperate.

Thankfully, Phee comes through for the Batch and introduces them to Pabu -- their future forever home.

Crosshair, meanwhile, is imprisoned at Tantiss. Despite emotionally cutting ties with the Empire, he's still physically at its mercy.

Hemlock offers him a deal: his freedom in exchange for helping him find Clone Force 99. Crosshair refuses to give up his family, even under torture.

Just like the Batch, despite Crosshair's attempt to "walk away" from the Empire, they still want something from him and they're willing to hurt him if he doesn't cooperate.

The fallout (S2 finale and beyond)

Of course, everything falls together in 2.16 "Plan 99," as Cid sells out the Batch to the Empire. The Batch's and Crosshair's former employers temporarily join forces to screw everyone over in the worst ways possible.

Although it was clear to us from the get-go that Crosshair was wrong to trust the Empire, 2.16 confirms to us the audience just how wrong the Batch was to trust Cid. They came to her in a moment of need, and she betrayed them.

Granted, I think this was mostly Hunter's failing, as they never should've gone back to Ord Mantell. I understand they were hurt and desperate to have AZI heal Omega, but Cid told them multiple times she was willing to turn them in. Plus, they just showed on her doorstep after striking a high-level Imperial compound. They knew -- or at least suspected -- that they were already being targeted based on Crosshair's message, but after hitting Eriadu, they would've been on the Empire's "most wanted list."

Jumping to Season 3, Cid's nature is made even clearer as she gives up the Batch a second time.

It's unclear whether CX-2 bribed or tortured Cid -- probably the latter -- but Cid also sold out Phee. And Cid told the Batch she considered Phee a friend. (Although based on Phee's comments in 2.13 "Pabu," that feeling wasn't mutual.)

For all Cid knew, CX-2 could've tortured or killed Phee to find the Batch, and she still gave up the information.

Once again, the Batch's and Crosshair's former employers work together to screw them over.

One last thing I'll add is how the show gave us glimpses of Crosshair and Cid's true colors around the same time. Crosshair is first bribed and then tortured for information about his family, but he doesn't give them up; meanwhile, Cid sells them out after everything they did for her. And, if CX-2 really tortured Cid in Season 3, it just proves how little she cared about the Batch (or even Phee) compared to how much Crosshair cared about them despite everything that happened in S1.

IN CONCLUSION

I want to state for the record that, as frustrating as it is to see our favorite characters allow themselves to be used and abused by their employers, I don't hate any of them.

These characters are human. They're not perfect, and hindsight is 20/20.

I know several people who were hoping that Cid would come through for the Batch, that she would be a true ally even if she was grumpy and rude (and that's putting it mildly).

If anything, I think this all shows just how similar Hunter, Crosshair and Omega are. They share a lot of the same strengths and weaknesses. Hunter and Crosshair see just how terrible the other's situation is, but not their own; and Crosshair and Omega are loyal to a fault.

They all just wanted some security and stability in what was a very chaotic time for the galaxy and their family. I can understand, to an extent, why they made the decisions they did even if I find them frustrating.

If you want to take any of this meta and apply it to your own lives, by all means. Despite what some folks might think, Star Wars has always been political, and I don't want any of you to end up like our favorite Bad Batch characters.

At the end of the day, "The Bad Batch" is a family show with a lot of morals and lessons about the importance of love, hope and family -- whether blood relatives, adopted or 'found.'

But, it's also a show about the evils of political systems and corporate greed, and how the forces around us will profit off our blood, sweat and tears while giving us little to nothing in return.

[pedroam-bang]

Juan Carlos Ruiz Burgos - Star Wars: Battlefront II (2017)

[slyvester101]

Despite his lax attitude and tendency to mouth off during training, Lavernius Tucker truly was a great fighter. 

All of the reds and blues are categorically good fighters, despite the UNSC’s insistence that they’re all idiots. You don’t win fights like they do and not have some kind of competency within your team, whether it be muscle or wits, luck or sheer determination.

But Tucker is a special case, a fighter that rivals the ability of the Freelancers despite not having even close to the same amount of training. It surprised Wash the first time they spared, Tucker keeping up well enough that he had to actually try during their matches to keep the aqua soldier from taking him down. It shouldn’t have been so shocking, Wash had read enough of Tucker’s file to know he was trained by the Elites during his diplomacy and was ranked unofficially as a swordsman among the Covenant, but Wash hadn’t known how beautifully Tucker wielded his weapon. 

Even without his sword, Tucker was a formidable opponent. His unusual fighting style that mixed basic military hand to hand, Elite martial arts, and Tucker’s lack of care for proper military procedures made him hard to track and hard to predict. One minute he’s flailing to avoid attacks and yelling out his surprise at every turn, the next he’s coming at Wash hard and fast with no breathing room between punches. It’s exciting for Wash to have such an interesting sparring partner, one that challenged him at every turn and kept him on his toes. 

It was a bit frustrating then, that Tucker was set on hiding his talent underneath the persona of incompetence the reds and blues seem so fond of, playing down his abilities to the point that not even his fellow sim troopers knew the extent of his skills. It makes Wash want to bully it out of him, to wrestle the potential out of him just to shove it in his face and say “Look. Look at how great you are”.

He knows Tucker has insecurities about leading, especially after losing his squad on Chorus, but Wash has watched him lead the reds and blues to victory over and over again, has seen him flourish and shine in the heat of battle, and has watched his mind turn out plan after plan despite every failure he’s hit with. He’s watched Tucker dominate a battlefield, watched him move gracefully through a fight, seen the way he holds himself when others need him. Tucker may not be sure if he can be a leader, but Wash knows. 

If Tucker wanted to be, he could be the best of them all. He is the best of them all. He just needs someone to help him see it. And Wash is more than willing to try.

[celestial-specter]

Clone Armor and Poster Symbolism in The Bad Batch Season Three

(Brace yourself, loooooong discussion under the cut).

So I’ve long been fixated on the symbolism of the clone’s appearance in Star Wars - it first began in The Clone Wars, with each clone discovering their own individuality and decorating both their bodies and their armor accordingly - think of the Republic crest which decorates both Jesse’s face and his helmet, and becomes a hard-hitting symbol of the end of the Republic which accompanies his death.

In The Bad Batch, clone armor has always been used to symbolize the character’s moral position- initially the main colors of the batch’s armor are black and red, showing both their power, and the element of mystery and otherness that they hold in comparison to standard clone groups. Crosshair’s turn to the empire is shown by him shedding his own armor, and donning a new, entirely black set, with no individuality at all.

In season two, the batch began removing certain sections of their armor and added pieces of a more civilian nature, such as Hunter’s scarf. The pieces of armor that remained were painted a lighter colour, showing that they were gradually leaving their lives as soldiers, or at least those of members of an elite squad, behind them.

In contrast, if you look at a character like Rex, he is still wearing the same armor from his service in the GAR, with only a few minor yet still currently unexplained modifications. He is the one holding onto the past and his service in the army, and it is his identity which drives him to save as many of his brothers as he can.

All of these ideas are particularly apparent in the new season three character posters which have just been released.

Now, while I have previously discussed the idea that the clone assassin is Tech, these posters have me equally convinced that it could actually be Cody.

I believe that Cody has the longest history of any clone in the franchise, being the only clone of any significance in the live-action films, and being prominent in both canon and legends material. As a standard clone, he would most likely have started his commission in the GAR with the general, all white trooper armor, and then decorated it himself as he gained individuality after leaving Kamino. In Brotherhood, the novel which takes place in 22BBY, Cody is described as wearing yellow armor, but, as we see in The Clone Wars, which takes place slightly later, his armor, along with that of the 212th, is more of an orange/gold. This small change could symbolize Cody’s own choice of armor paint being subtly darkened by his experience of war - he is still a loyal soldier of the GAR, but his experiences have changed him.

The orange armor quickly became synonymous with Cody, which is why it was such a shock to audiences to see him with grey armor in The Bad Batch season two. It is a sign that his individuality has been stripped away from him by the empire, but Cody himself still retains the capacity for individual thought and decision making, as shown by his actions in the episode. I also believe that clone armor colors not only symbolize the clones themselves, but also their Jedi generals - the 212th orange symbolized the positivity and energy which came alongside serving under General Kenobi, just as the 501st blue symbolized the freedom and fresh viewpoints of General Skywalker. Therefore, Cody’s grey armor also symbolizes his grief for what he did to Obi-Wan - the man who first provided him the space to discover his own individuality is now ‘dead’ at Cody’s own hand.

I have also long believed that there is a high chance that Cody did not end up escaping at the end of this episode, and was instead captured by the empire for use in experiments.

The release of these character posters seems very deliberate - Star Wars has always been about the battle between light and dark, but due to it’s association with the force, I don’t think we have ever seen clones portrayed in posters in such a manner. The cinematography staff of The Bad Batch have been very vocal recently on the importance of lighting in the show, and I believe that the posters are no exception.

If we look at these poster in order, it is interesting that Wolffe’s seems to be darker than the one featuring Hemlock and Emerie, especially considering how stable he appeared in the past episode.

I believe that this symbolizes that there will be consequences for Wolffe for his decision to let Rex and the others escape, and that he will be subjected to the same treatment which was used in an attempt to change Crosshair, which will leave him the unstable individual we first meet in Rebels.

This idea of placing the clones on a scale from light to dark has me concerned that this season will show the end of Cody’s arc, shifting from the bright white armor he first began with, ending with him wearing the dark armor of a clone assassin.

This idea is only furthered by Rex’s group referring to the clone assassins as ‘shadows’. The reason behind the name is obvious- the clones are shadows of their former selves, having been stripped of all identifying information and individuality.

Considering that Cody’s bright orange armor has long been thought to represent the sun, it would be devastating to see him reduced to an operative with no name and no personality, his only identifying feature being dark armor he would never choose to wear himself. Though I hate to think of it, it does make sense to portray Cody in this way to truly highlight the rise of the empire in the same way Jesse symbolized the end of the Republic - if this theory does turn out to be true, Cody’s arc may have always been intended to show his progression from sunburst to shadow.

[meme-force-99]

Sharing a few Imperial! Batch edits because they deserve a life outside the MemeForce Discord:

You know the drill - please feel free to use these, but reblogs also bring glory to the Imperial Science Division, Demolitions Department, Tracking Unit, Military Strategy, and Elite Squad troopers. 😉

[felassan]

"Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz and a range of highly-detailed resin Mass Effect Miniatures are available to pre-order now!" [source: email from Modiphius]

The Mass Effect board game is now available to pre-order! You can get just the game or upgrade it with a bundle of resin miniatures.

[Pre-order link]

More info:

"Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz is a quick to play cooperative, story-driven game for 1-4 players. Gather Shepard’s squad from a selection of teammates from the Mass Effect trilogy: Liara, Tali, Wrex, and Garrus. Customize and upgrade your squad’s abilities, equipment, and powers as they gain experience. Enhance them further by unlocking unique powers with optional loyalty missions. Set during the events of Mass Effect 3, the crew of the Normandy has one more mission. On the remote world Hagalaz, a research cruiser from the terrorist organization Cerberus has crashed directly in the path of a deadly storm. With little time before the storm hits, Shepard must lead their squad through the cruiser to uncover its sinister secrets and keep them out of the hands of the enemy. However, the ship holds more dangers than just its former crew. Deep within the shattered cruiser stir creatures and enemies far worse than the Cerberus forces that guard them. A branching, narrative campaign allows for multiple playthroughs with a different experience every time with up to 14 missions, and the main campaign missions having Paragon/Renegade options. Card-driven enemy actions and evolving stories respond to your actions – your early choices influence later missions! The board game features six highly detailed 32mm scale pre-assembled plastic miniatures of male and female Shepherd, Liara, Tali, Wrex and Garrus for players to use as their game pieces. You can also upgrade your games with the Mass Effect Miniatures sets also available to pre-order today! We have five sets of 32mm scale highly detailed, collector’s resin miniatures. These miniatures are first available through the Modiphius webstore pre-order to ship in October and will then hit stores on N7 Day (7th November). These miniatures sets can be used to upgrade the plastic miniatures and tokens in the board game and are scaled to fit. They’re also perfect for any miniatures skirmish game (like Five Parsecs from Home), as well as being great for miniatures collectors and Mass Effect fans everywhere! The Mass Effect Miniatures available to pre-order now include: - Heroes of the Normandy Alpha - Alternate poses of the Normandy crew: Fem and Male Shep (with alternate helmet head parts), Tali (with removable stand alone drone), Liara, Garrus and Wrex. - Priority Threats Alpha - Three elite Cerberus bosses - Cerberus Centurion, Cerberus Phantom (with optional translucent shield) and Cerberus Phoenix Project Adept - Priority Threats Beta - Three major threats representing some of the most dangerous opponents - Reaper Banshee, Reaper Scion and an Indoctrinated Krogan Battlemaster - Cerberus Troops Alpha - Standard Cerberus troops: Cerberus Engineer x 2, Cerberus Assault Trooper x 2 and Cerberus Guardian x 2 - Reaper Forces Alpha - Horrific Reaper forces made up of twisted versions of council races used as disposable foot soldiers - Husk x 2, Cannibal x 2 and Marauder x 2 Each set contains several 32mm scale multi-part, unpainted, unassembled highly-detailed resin miniatures with plastic bases. We also have two great value bundles: the Miniatures Collector Bundle which includes one of each set of miniatures, and the Board Game Miniatures Bundle which includes one of each set of miniatures with multiples of the lower level enemies that you’ll encounter many of during a campaign."

[source: email from Modiphius] [more info] <- more images including of the miniatures at link

[yoitsjay]

Symphony of Destruction

Pairings: imperial! Crossbair x imperial fem! Reader

Summary: you were an exceptional elite trooper, and seemed to have caught Crosshairs eye

Warnings: cannon violence, slight angst, sexism, injuries. Loose plot connection

Word count: 2,310

“It's fascinating, I never thought a woman could be so capable on a training course. though battlefields are a whole different idea.” One man said, watching on the sidelines of the training simulator for elite stormtroopers.

You were in the center, currently ducked behind one of the barricades in the training room. The rest of your squad had been stunned by the cannons or assassin droids being used for said training, but you were still up and fighting.

You bit your lip as you searched on your person, muttering curse words when you realized that you ran out of droid charges. But that didn't stop you. Instead you ripped a panel off the wall of the training room, and grabbed a chunk of wires, ripping one which then caused the malfunction and shut down most of the droids.

You hopped out from behind the cover, running up to an assassin droid as you jumped up and cut its circuits with your viroblade, shooting two other droids in the head. dodge rolling out of the way of larger cannon stun shots.

You cut down the remaining assassin droids, and ducked behind cover again, now having to figure out how to take those cannons. You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the murmuring from the sidelines. Though you could feel a pair of eyes piercing into your back.

You ignored it, removing your helmet before bringing your knife to the circuit inside it. You had been a gadget maker before you enlisted in the Imperial army, so turning anything with wires into a bomb was like second nature to you.

Once the helmet started to charge up, you stood up, dodging stun shots before you spin and threw the helmet like a shot put ball, rolling to a covered position again as you watched the helmet hit the cannons and destroy them.

You grinned, running from the cover to the wall that led up to the flag you needed to grab. You jumped from one side of the wall to the other before pulling yourself up to the final platform. However suddenly it shifted underneath you, and started to crumble.

Quickly you shot your blasters grapple to the ceiling and flew upwards as the platform below you fell. You slowly lowered yourself, hanging upside down as you grabbed the flag, turning upwards as you jumped down onto the platform, retracting the grapple and sliding the blaster into your holster.

You looked up and saw clones, some nat born soldiers, and imperial officers clapping for your performance. Your face stayed neutral however as you slid down the platform to the exit door. However you turned around, looking up at the main observing room, seeing Admiral Rampart, and beside him a helmeted man. He must have been the one staring so intensely.

“Congratulations ES-05, you have passed your Elite Trooper exam. Report to my office for more information.” Rampart instructed. You nodded before leaving the room, walking past other stormtroopers and clones as you walked to Admiral Rampart’s office.

You knocked, and entered seconds later, now standing in front of the admiral with your hands at your sides. “You will be placed with CT-9904’s Elite squad, you will be fitted with new armor and new weapons.” He explained and you nodded curtly, taking your new commlink and ID from him.

“You have impressive skill. Where are you from?” He asked, his head on his hands as he stared at you. You purse your lips for a moment. “I’m from Onderon, Vice Admiral.” You answered, hearing him hum. “A rebel diseased land I hear. Good to know you’re on the right side.” He mused before waving his hand, excusing you.

You nodded your head before turning and leaving the room. You took your ID to the armory where your new armor and weapons were waiting. You immediately changed, and armed yourself up. You had two blasters rather than one, and below one of them was a holster for your new viroblade. You were also given a jetpack.

You heard the door to the armory slide open behind you as you were tying your hair up into a braided bun. You glanced back, seeing the same masked man from earlier, however he had his helmet off, and was watching you carefully. You assumed he was the clone commander Rampart had mentioned, so when you finished you turned and saluted. “Commander.” You greeted before lowering your hand, holding your helmet in your arm.

“You have skill. I look forward to seeing it on the battlefield. The Vice Admiral told me you were from Onderon?” The clone asked and you nodded, unsure as to why it mattered.

“We are being sent there to kill Saw Gerrerra on Onderon.” He explained, and something flashed in your eyes but quickly dispersed. “Then let’s kill him.” You stated, securing your helmet on your head.

You followed the clone to the hangar where a ship and the rest of the squad was waiting. You joined the line up, removing your helmet once more as the clone commander studied the group. “We are being sent to kill insurgents on Onderon. Gear up.” He ordered, and in unison you and the other’s placed your helmet on.

You walked onto the ship, finding a more secluded area as you started cleaning your weapon. You felt piercing eyes on you again, looking up to see the Clone Commander in front of you. “What’s your name?” he asked, and you frowned underneath your helmet. “ES-05-”

“No- your birth name.” He pressed, and your eyes went wide. You glanced around, but nobody else seemed to be paying attention. “S-sir? i don't-”

The clone yanked you upwards, pulling you up to the upper part of the ship, letting go moments later as he removed his helmet. “What. is. your. name” He asked again, this time pronouncing each word as he spoke. You slowly removed your helmet, your stoicism faltering before you spoke. “Y/n…” You trailed off with your answer, and he nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“What's your name?” You then asked, catching him off guard. “My- Crosshair.” He answered, and you smiled a bit. “Fitting.” You stated, seeing him smirk a little bit before he slid his helmet back on. You followed, and walked back down to the rest of the squad, taking your seat as you resumed cleaning your weapons.

Eventually you reached Onderon, infiltrating the camp with ease. Saw Gerrera ended up not being there, a part of you was… relieved almost.

However when Crosshair ordered the insurgents to be executed, you hesitated, only briefly before slitting throats and shooting heads of the rest of the prisoners as the other troopers hesitated. One argued back, and Crosshair promptly shot him in the head.

You were dead silent on the way back to Kamino, though after that mission the elite squad was tasked with much else, So you spent your down time in your quarters or in the Mess hall. In that time however, You and your commander, Crosshair, grew very close. You shared stories of what you could remember of Onderon, and living in the city.

In return he shared stories of missions he had during the clone wars… when he worked with his brothers. You could tell it was a sensitive subject so you didn’t pry, and instead comforted him, with a hand on his, or a soft smile.

he had grown to appreciate it in the time he spent with you, wherever mission you went on he was always close by. However on your current mission you had been separated from the rest of the squad, including Crosshair, and now you were surrounded by insurgents who were ready to kill you.

You fought back furiously, but one of the insurgents shot you in the leg and then in the arm. You hadn’t realized that Crosshair arrived at that moment, but when he saw you go down he saw red, and killed the insurgents who were about to land the finishing blow. When they laid dead, Crosshair ran to your side and cursed.

“Hang on Y/n, I've got you.” He muttered as he picked you up in his arms. You cried at the pain that shot through your body, your helmet slipping off your head which allowed you to press your face into Crosshairs armored chest.

Hecarried you back to the ship, grabbing the medical supplies before he stripped off your armor, ignoring the words of the other squad mates. he cut open the fabric of your shirt by your arm, and your leg, giving you bacta shots by the injuries before placing patches over the wounds so they healed better.

You were unconscious at this point, but very much alive because he brought you back in time. The remaining squad members finished the mission, and soon you and Crosshair were back on Kamino. He carried you to the med bay where you received better treatment, and would heal in no time.

While you were sleeping, Crosshair always came and sat by your bedside, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t have… But he had grown so attached to you in these past months…

When you were fully healed, Crosshair was the only one who came to get you, and give you your new armor which you appreciated. It also was the day however, where his brother Hunter had been captured and imprisoned on Kamino. You stood behind Crosshair at every interrogation, being that silent support for him.

Now you stood in a room, facing down Crosshair’s brothers, with the rest of the squad behind you. Crosshair gestured for you to stand right beside him and you did. “You can still surrender, join the Empire, join me.” Crosshair offered, looking back at the squad. “Lower your weapons.” He ordered.

You did, immediately in fact, holstering your blasters on your thighs. The others, however… refused. You saw them raise their blasters to execute Hunter and the others, however Crosshair was quick to fire a shot towards the wall, where it then bounced off and hit several mirrors, killing the remaining squad mates, all except for you.

You clenched your jaw, and you could feel all the clones eyes on you, including Crosshairs. However you just sighed, and grabbed the man's hand. Crosshair turned back to his brothers, but they shook their heads.

A lone squad member, another woman, had alerted Rampart of what happened, and in turn he ordered the destruction of Kamino, despite all the people still on it. Before the bad batch were about to escape from the hangar, Kamino started falling, breaking apart as Ramparts ship fired down on it.

Metal started falling from above, and Crosshair was quick to tackle you out of the way, though more metal fell on top of you and him, knocking you both unconscious.

The next time you wake up, you see clearly in a different place, being held up by one of the clones. You grunt, letting them know you are awake. But you're in no position to fight and you know that. Despite that, once Crosshair wakes you and him work with his previous squad, and help each other get to safety above water.

You and Crosshair seemed to have the same idea when Omega starts to sink when trying to save her droid friend, managing to save her with a grapple, pulling them back up to shore.

Eventually you and Crosshair reach the landing bay with the bad batches ship, and you stand close to him.

“You gave us a chance… so this is yours.” Hunter spoke up to his brother, glancing at you only for a moment. You turned to Crosshair, who was staring at you. You nodded, silently encouraging him to go. However he sighed, shaking his head. “I made my choice.” Crosshair replied.

“We may want different things, but that doesn’t have to make us enemies.” Hunter stated, looking at you. “And you, you should be free to make your own choices. don’t let the Empire make them for you.” He stated, before walking back onto their ship.

You and Crosshair are left on Kamino, but not for long as you manage to get rescued by an imperial shuttle, but despite that, you make a decision that changes your life.

You comendeer the shuttle, and land it on a planet, away from the reaches of the Empire. Despite Crosshair’s questioning, you remove your armor, and grab a small bag filled with rations and medical supplies.

“You may want life in the Empire… but I don't… not anymore.” You told him, staring into his eyes. “Come with me.” You begged, seeing the conflict on his face. “I- i cant…” He trailed off, and you sighed. “Alright then… maybe I'll see you again.” You breathed out, turning away.

However before you could leave Crosshair grabbed your arm, turning you back around as he slammed his lips against yours. You gasped, but quickly melted into him, cupping his face in your hands before you sighed and pulled away. “Come find me when you're ready, and we can do that again.” You whispered, before walking away.

-

Crosshair did find you again, fate pulled its strings and he found you on Pabu, living amongst the villagers there. His brothers had known, and you had made peace with them, and even helped them out with some things.

But when Crosshair had been brought back he refused to leave your side, except when he had to go on missions of course. But he loved you, and he admitted that. And you admitted you felt the same.

Now, you sit at the beach with him, holding his hand as you watch the sunset together. You had built him a robotic hand, which he appreciated, and it only made him fall harder for you.

“Marry me” he whispered, and you smiled.

“okay.”

➺

Tag list:

Crosshair tag:

@nyctophobiart

Tbb tag:

@only-my-unexistent-fiances

All:

@moomoog017