#its domino squad time!!

[crashlanding-skywalker]

[on kamino, at 300 am]

Echo: We dream of the summertime during winter. We yearn for the winter during summer. What fatal flaw has god injected the human psyche with? Why must we always strive for the things furthest away from us?

Hevy, half asleep: Are you okay?

Echo: …

Echo: My feet are cold :(.

[somestorythoughts]

I actually know fics about this! Not about her being Domino's general though I would HAPPILY read that fic, but Jocasta Jones and the Librarian Clones turns out to have been partially inspired by this post (she ends up with a squad and they are on their way to becoming excellent librarians!!) and General Jocasta is in a similar vein where basically Obi-Wan gets put in charge of organizing the war and goes to the people who spend their lives organizing things aka the librarians for help (this one is complete!). So on the off-chance there's librarians/archivists/museum folks who like Star Wars following me, check them out they're fun!

But in terms of Domino Squad becoming Librarians/Archivists/their favorite assistants:

The Commanders have a Chat populate SOLELY by Commanders and the Captains they invite in and it is as secure as they can make it. Which is pretty damn secure.

And they're well into an informational conversation read gossip session about their latest Jedi shenanigans.

Cody: I found Obi-Wan stress baking. It wouldn't be that wierd if I knew where he got the ingreditates we haven't gone shopping in months?

Bly: that's nothing General Kolar joined us a few days ago and he and Aalya have been competeing over who can flip the most tanks in a battle

Rex: Hah that's nothing!

CT-1409: it really is.

Wolffe: whom the fuck?

CT-1409: It was Crafts' Day yesterday. 25 Jedi cadets who are still working on their Force levetating.

Rex: Who are you and how did you get into this chat?

CT-1409: With paint. Apparently glitter has been banned from the Archives for the past 147 years due to The Glitter Incident, its use by jedi cadets is restricted to particular rooms in the temple. It was wonderful. It was also Very Messy.

COdy: Rex, Keelie, who is this?

Rex: You think all CTs know each other Commander? Really??

CT-1409: Truely sir

Fox: Echo.

CT-1409: yes sir!

Fox: Echo what are you doing in our chat?

CT-1409: SIr Sargent Byte said I should work on the offensive side of cyber security sir.

Wolffe: Fox who the fuck is this

Fox: hush. So you decided to do this?

CT1409: I have been told to hush sir

Fox: Do I need to come over there you little shit?

CT-1409: Commander Thorn dared me sir.

Fox: I'm beginning to understand why Byte laughed when someone said you're the one with impulse control

CT-1409: That would be Cutup and Hevy sir

Fox: guys this is Echo. He's part of Domino squad they got assigned to the archives a while back, we've run into each other a couple times

Bly: and you decided, on a dare, to hack into our hyper-secured chat to test your slicing skills

CT-2010: He did sir

several people are typing...

What if Shaak Ti, in stopping the Kaminoans from decommissioning clones, asks around if anybody has place and purpose for some non-combatant clones. And Jocasta Nu goes "A bunch of keen young men with eidetic memories? Don't mind if I do" and that is how the Jedi temple library has the most amazing librarians in the galaxy

Okay but - 

Domino fails their final test, but Shaak manages to stop them from being decommissioned or sent to work sanitation by roping Jocasta into snatching them up for that reason. All the members of Domino kind of collectively groan and complain but ship out anyway, and they’re pretty sure it’s all going to be this terrible, boring slog through ancient books with some stuffy librarian Jedi - 

Right up until Jocasta gets word of a cache of Jedi holocrons on a frontline planet, packs up her five new assistants and her lightsaber, and leads them on the most greuling, dangerous, ridiculous mission through active battlefields and Separatist camps that absolutely no one believes happened when they tell their vode later. Which is absolutely fine, because Domino now knows they have the most badass general in the whole galaxy, bar none. 

[thephoenixcave]

FF6 Artober Day 19: Hope

We all know the scene where Celes finds the bird on the beach, it is carrying Locke’s bandana. But how did the bandana get ON the bird? I like to think that Locke found it, saw it’s wing was injured, healed it with magic, then wrapped his bandana around its wing to set it in place.

It’s already canon that Locke is kind to animals. After the disaster at Thamasa with Kefka, when the squad is gathered around Leo’s grave, Interceptor walks in and is limping. Locke kneels next to him then says “this’ll have to do”, implying that he bandaged him up.

So now it’s the World of Ruin and everyone everywhere is suffering, and one little bird is lying broken on a street corner and no one cares. He’s all puffed up and looking for a quiet place to die. But Locke cares. He takes the time and effort to nurse Bird back to health, even using his bandana to keep that wing steady. And that little act of kindness creates a domino effect— it is what leads Celes to believe that Locke is still alive, and maybe others too, and maybe hope is not lost after all.

Moral of the story! Be kind to birds!

(Unrelated but this exact thing happened to me and my husband, we found an injured bird etc, and now that bird is our sigil, very special deep meaning)

[s-sputnik-k]

So I just saw a post saying that Wrecker listens to metal but doesn't know what it is (think Star Trek Jaylah's "I like the beats and shouting!"), meanwhile Hunter listens to metal but DOES know what it is. And I, a heavy music enthusiast, just HAD to expand on this

Wrecker listens to thrash metal, it's big and loud and sounds like explosions. He also likes Viking metal and folk metal (I can imagine him loudly chanting along to "DIGGY DIGGY HOLE! DIGGY DIGGY HOLE! I AM A DWARF AND IM DIGGING A HOLE!" with Omega giggling on his shoulders). But he doesn't only like metal, it's just one of many things he finds fun and exciting

Hunter, on the other hand, is into alt rock and a bit of metalcore and deathcore. He has a deep understanding of harsh vocals and can probably do some of it himself (he would be FASCINATED by the types of screams that impersonate animals, like pigsqueals and growls), he has a lot of strong opinions but prefers to just go to the woods and scream than to participate in fanbase discourse

Tech is a math rock and prog metal nerd. He would listen to jazz, but he got kicked out of all the local jazz bars for commentating the music too loudly ("Interesting polyrhythm, though I don't believe it adds to the composition so much as subtract from the previous syncopation- Ah! Genius use of the chromatic scale! In fact-" *gets decked*)

Crosshair is a post-punk gatekeeper and hates people who wear joy division shirts without knowing the band. He (obviously) had an emo phase in his teens and instead of growing out of it he just moved on to gothic rock. He sticks to his subculture and, like him, feels it is deeply misunderstood

Echo is into 80s pop and rock because its REAL music that makes you MOVE and BRINGS PEOPLE TOGETHER, he says as he turns everyone else's competing radios down. But secretly, just maybe his preference is partially because it reminds him of belting out classics with domino squad when they had access to radio for the first time on rishi...

Omega, of course, loves all of it. Oh, but she's also a K-pop stan. Also, Hunter managed to get her into Babymetal some time ago and is starting to regret it because she is certified OBSESSED

[kybercrystals94]

I Miss You

By KyberCrystals94

Read on Ao3 here!

Whumptober 2023|Day 5|Alternative Prompt: Playing Cards

Bad Things Happen Bingo|Prompt: Crying Themselves to Sleep

Rating: G

Words: 785

Summary: Echo discovers a message from a brother.

“Those look so old!” Wrecker declares, leaning on the upper bunk to scrutinize the playing cards Echo is sorting through.

Echo smiles. “That’s because they are old. I pilfered them off a graduated trooper when I was a cadet.”

“You stole them?” Wrecker sounds as impressed as he is surprised. “I thought you never broke a rule in your life.”

“With the right motivation, I’ve been persuaded to bend a few.” Echo chuckles. “Technically, they were contraband for the guy I stole them from. So, really, I was doing him a favor.”

Wrecker grins. “That’s neat you still have them even after they thought you were blown up.”

Echo’s smile falls slightly as he continues to set the cards out, dividing them into suits. “Yeah, when they thought I died, they went to my old batch mate, Fives. After Fives, they went to Rex, and then Rex gave them back to me when I-"

"Came back to life?” Wrecker offers.

“Sure,” Echo says. “When that happened.”

“I don’t think you could even shuffle them if you tried.” Wrecker laughs.

“They’ve definitely seen better days.”

The cards are dogeared, and every one of them has been folded into quarters because of the time Cutup tried to cheat at Sabaac. He folded a few of them so he could identify them in someone’s hand. When the other Dominos found out, they had painstakingly copied the folds on every single card so they all matched. Echo had been so angry at his squad mate, but he desperately wishes he could take back the harsh words that came out of his mouth. After all, they were just cards. A toy. Nowhere near as important as the individuals that played with them.

Echo finds the card he is looking for, the one that had made this deck obsolete. He had accidentally dropped the card in his cup of caf, discoloring it. Fives had suggested they stain all the cards in caf to match; however, Echo decided to retire the deck and get a new one. The old deck was tucked away in his storage bin in the barracks on Kamino, carrying too many memories in its deteriorated fibers to throw away.

Echo holds up the stained card for Wrecker's inspection. “I dropped it in my caf. It’s the reason we didn’t play with this deck anymore,” he explains.

“What does it say?” Wrecker asks.

“What does what say?”

Wrecker points to the back of the card. “On the back. There’s writing.”

Echo flips the card around, squinting to make out the ink of a pen on the intricately designed backing.

I miss you.

Echo feels like the air has been stolen from his lungs.

Fives wrote those words. There is no doubt in Echo’s mind. Not before the Citadel mission. After. After Echo died. After Fives went back to Kamino. Echo can see him. Sitting in their barracks, sorting through Echo’s meager collection of personal effects. He’s searching for a playing card stained in caf. He writes the three words, handwriting ragged by a trembling hand. A note for the brother he lost. That he'd never get back. I miss you.

“Echo!”

Echo blinks and finds that Wrecker has half climbed into the bunk with him, a hand on each of his shoulders. “You with me, buddy?” Wrecker asks.

“Yeah,” Echo croaks. He clears his throat. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Wrecker’s good eye searches Echo’s face, trying to understand. “You scared me there for a second. You sorta zoned out, and then your breathing got weird.”

“Sorry,” Echo says again. Emotions bubble up, threaten to burst out of him, card still gripped in his flesh hand. Dark, inky, familiar script carving into his mind. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

“Did I do something?” Wrecker asks, climbing down from his precarious perch.

Echo shakes his head and tries to reassure the man with a thin smile. “No, you didn’t do anything. It’s just…” Echo holds up the card. “The writing. It’s a note from my batch mate, Fives.”

He leaves it at that, and Wrecker doesn’t ask for more. Instead, he offers Echo a kind smile. “I'm gonna go start my watch but let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Wreck, I will,” Echo says, and he means it.

Wrecker leaves the bunk room, and Echo gathers up the cards, tucking them in their tin. He keeps the caf stained card out. He lies down, back to the room, facing the wall, and holds the note in front of him. The last words his oldest brother ever gave him blurs in his watery vision.

“I miss you too,” Echo whispers, and silently cries until sleep claims him.

END

Read the prequel, You Promised, here!

[comicsandconstellations]

Have really been in the mood to keep drawing my designs for the “they survived” Domino Squad AU (designs here )

So have my full armour breakdowns for them. I thought I should properly sit down and get those sorted. I think it’s phase two armour? But I’m not great with those differences. Also, first sketches of the squad in colour.

Also, thought I’d give Cutup a hint of a beard since his cannon design had one. I haven’t really been drawing him with one because in my version he’s chilled out a lot in recovery from almost being eaten alive, and he’s grown his hair out. And, clones with long hair and beards are just arguably the hottest clones and I don’t think Fives would ever let him be the hot one of the group.

A few notes on armour designs I didn’t elaborate much on in the notes (and some character traits linked to it) :

Hevy’s armour is pretty basic for an ARC, but he definitely responds to anyone asking why with something about not needing elaborate armour to beat a lot of droids. He has taken on a lot of leadership roles in the company, and Rex has even made several comments about him taking over as Captain if anything was to happen to him.

Fives on the other hand got ARC armour and decided he was going to tick every single design detail he could (including the Eel helmet which probably should have been Cut’s, but he wanted his scar on his so Fives was allowed it.) Unlike the other two ARC’s, he doesn’t get an official role, but he doesn’t mind, it leaves him open to get into more trouble and not be responsible for anyone else.

Echo is still very regulation oriented, but the only known regulation he has publicly broken is modifying his armour to be mirrored so he could keep Rex’s hand print in its original position. The others tease him about this constantly. He is an exceptional strategist and is Rex’s right hand man when it comes to any sort of planning or attack strategy. He’s the most modest of the squad, and constantly talks down his abilities whenever others hype him up about his skills. He’s one of the top strategists in the GAR, but it would be a miracle if you could get him to admit that.

Cutup is ecstatic about the fact he is now covered in scars (although much bigger and less idealised than the designs on his armour) because it matches his name. He has no intention of becoming an ARC. The Rishi outpost and his long recovery changed him a lot, and left more than just physical scars, he prefers to step back from the intensity of what his brothers do, even if he was offered the promotion. He and Kix are very close, and he sometimes works as a support person in the med tent if he needs an extra set of hands.

Droidbait is the opposite. He desperately wants to be an ARC like the other three, but has never been very fit for the position. He is the least confident of the squad, and his time separated from them on Rishi didn’t help. The commemoration bands on his leg are for those who they lost on the Rishi moon, and he won’t tell anyone the significance of there being two. He was the only person who survived the droid attack (after the other four escaped) and refuses to say how he managed to, but whatever happened made him much more anxious. The others don’t pressure him into saying anything.

[the-bi-space-ace]

First Hugs - Part 1 - Wrecker

Hi all! Since I really needed some comfort (and it seems like many others need it right now too) this will be my first post for Echo-vember. I've decided to post one Echo-focused fic each week of November revolving around the first time Echo hugs each of the batch and at the end of the month I'll post every part to Ao3. If you want to be tagged when I post these fics let me know <3

Thank you @renton6echo for coming up with the concept of Echo-vember. I'm excited for it <3

Summary: The first time Echo hugs Wrecker

Word Count: 1,021

Their mission had gone off without a hitch. It was the first of many, Echo hoped, as they boarded the Marauder to embark on whatever was next for the group. He could barely keep up with how fast everything was moving. One mission after another, no planet longer than a few days, so much to learn he was racing just not to fall behind. Rest days were far and few between. He slept even less with Clones Force 99 than he did when he was a 501st ARC. Even when he did it was always surrounded by people just as he liked it, constantly listening to the sounds of snores and chatter and even breathing. That was okay with Echo. He didn’t have too much time to think in between rushing into battle and his new squad was about as chaotic as he expected. They were nearly yelling over each other in the excited rush that followed their mission. It was swift, simple, but they’d run into the need for an explosion and that got all of their blood pumping. Who would’ve thought, the squad of excitable commandos liked when things went boom. He was busy smiling at them, ignoring the need to make a plan, set a path, move on, while they pushed each other around and chattered. 

“That was awesome!” Wrecker whooped as he whipped his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor. A wide smile stretched across his face, skin flushed with excitement. He shoved Echo’s shoulder. “Who knew you could do something like that?!” Right. Echo tried to bite back the grin but he was fighting a losing battle. He’d been on top of a walker, helping plant explosives while the rest of them distracted enemies for him and the big guy. Apparently using his grappling hook to swing off the side of it, wrapping its legs together, and tucking into a roll as he dismounted wasn’t just a common method everyone used. When he’d knocked the walker over he yelled at Wrecker to run, close enough that their backs heated while the explosion went off behind them. Echo wasn’t sure why it was particularly exciting but it may have been the domino effect of explosions that detonated throughout the battlefield that made them all so giddy. 

Something about fire. It just really made all of them bouncier. 

Echo shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “Had to learn something from all of that ARC training.” It was the first time he’d truly felt confident with the batch. They’d only known each other for a few weeks, spent even less time in the field, and he’d fumbled a few plays - understandable - but he’d let it hurt his ego a bit too much. All those racing thoughts and unease had wriggled its way into his mind. A win was nice. It reminded him who he was. A time when they thought he fit in was even better. The batch was so tight he started to think infiltrating their ranks was impossible. 

Maybe he just hadn’t given them enough time. 

Wrecker laughed - bright and jovial - nudging Echo again, this time hard enough that he bumped into Hunter who steadied him with a grin. “You can say that again! We make a great team.” In a move that almost knocked all the air out of his lungs Wrecker swept his arms around Echo’s waist, lifting him up into the air. The shock came first along with a surprised noise from the back of his throat - not a squeak, thank you very much - as the big guy hugged him. His feet dangled in the air while Wrecker swayed him back and forth. 

This was the first time any of them had hugged him. For a brief moment it was like being doused in freezing cold water but the warmth radiating off of Wrecker made every bone in his body relax. Hugs certainly hadn’t been at the top of his list of priorities - he hadn’t really thought about it - but he found himself smiling regardless. Wrecker was a tactile guy, mostly shoving and throwing his arm around the others, but hugs weren’t out of the question. Echo just hadn’t realized that Wrecker would ever want to hug him with his metal and attitude and newness to the squad so he’d not yet attempted to get physically closer to any of them yet. At least Wrecker was the easiest to befriend, so quick to invite Echo to join him in their down time and offer him space. It felt nice to be treated like a part of things. He couldn’t really hug him back, not with his arms pinned to the side as they were, but he did chuckle, awkwardly patting Wrecker’s side.

“Any time, big guy. Maybe next time we can make it a few more yards away from the explosion before it goes off.” The light scold was taken lightheartedly with a laugh. Wrecker squeezed him tight one last time then put him down, holding onto his shoulder to keep him steady while he regained his footing. The smile stuck to his face so bad he almost had to hide it behind his hand. Something as simple as a hug and he was taken down, reduced to silence, watching dutifully as the rest of them kept getting under each other's skin. Lucky was a word he would use, he supposed. It may seem simple but the worry that his new squad wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to be tactile with him was slowly ebbing away, flickering to the back of his mind even for the moment. His hand itched to do the same things the rest of them seemed so comfortable with - shoving, ruffling hair, hugs - but he wasn’t quite there yet. Wasn’t ready to be the initiator for tactile forms of affection. Wrecker had opened the door, allowed in some form of familiarity he hadn’t quite realized he missed so much. There was still learning, sure, but hope bloomed in his chest at the thought that this could be more than a squad, more than a team, but something closer to his heart altogether.

[levi-venn]

Accolades - Part Two

Timeline: A Year after the final escape from Mount Tantiss.

Summary: Hunter wants to make an Accolades Box for Omega, too, but he needs his brothers' help. Part One | Part Two | Part Three Available on AO3

Note: A special thank you to @dragonrider9905 @yeehawgeek and @cw80831 for requesting a sequel.

A lot of changed after the war ended.

And the carefully decorated boxes Hunter had made for each of his brothers stopped collecting accolades and started collecting dust. 

He couldn’t bear to look at them when Crosshair joined the Empire. 

He thought about throwing them away when Tech fell.

In the end, he hid the lovingly painted boxes in his armor tote. Out of sight…but never quite out of mind.

A year went by.

Pabu was beginning to feel like home. Crosshair had returned to them. Omega was finally safe. Echo visited often. 

For the first time in Hunter’s life, he could think of those five boxes and not feel his heart cave in on itself.

It was time to add a sixth.

Omega and Phee left that morning for a treasure hunting trip and would be gone for the next week. A week longer than Hunter would like, but it was just enough time for four brothers to get together and figure out this whole...arts and crafts thing.

Hunter sent a message to his squad: [We got a Mission, boys . Come on over at 1300]

He quickly added: [A Fun Mission]

Then...he clarified: [It’s for Omega]

Echo replied first: [Roger that]

Wrecker next: [A mission for Omega? I’m in!]

Crosshair gave a thumbs up.

By 1302, the brothers sat in the middle of Hunter’s home, sitting in a circle on the floor, a box in front of each of them. 

Hunter placed Tech’s box in the center of the circle. They had all agreed to keep it closed.

For a long while, no one spoke, quietly looking at each medal and ribbon and the messages Hunter had etched into each.

Surprisingly, Crosshair was the first to speak. “I can’t believe you kept them. You kept mine.” He turned a medal over in his hand, reading the inscription Hunter had carved over the original accolade.

[The most WIZARD precision shot through a tank’s barrel while spitting a toothpick in a clanker’s eye]

“Heh, I remember this mission. I short circuited the droid’s OS with that toothpick.”

“Oh yeah! I remember that! ” Wrecker laughed, punching Crosshair’s arm, earning a quiet, amused hiss.

“I can’t believe you etched over these medals,” Echo said, looking through his pile of medals.

“Hope it's not too sacrilegious for you,” Hunter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not at all," Echo replied. "I think this is more appropriate than any awards we received on our missions. As an ARC trooper the more devastating our losses, the more medals we received. Really sours the award when its attached to so much death. Trust me, this is better.” Echo read one of his medals aloud.  "'[The most regulation codes recited in an hour]'" He laughed. "I would’ve had hundreds of these medals in Domino Squad.  Thank you for doing this, Hunter.”

“What’s in there?” Crosshair asked, nodding to the box with half a skull painted on top.

“...Nothin’.” Hunter said, scooting it closer to him.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Crosshair sneered, pointing a toothpick at Hunter.

“C’mon, show us!” Wrecker said, and reached for the box.

Hunter snatched it from the circle and hugged it to his chest. “It’s none of your business.”

“Guys, he doesn’t want to-” Echo started, but Crosshair pushed past him to lunge at the box. He bumped Hunter’s arm instead and it slipped out of his hands into Wrecker’s lap.

Hunter dove forward! Wrecker rolled backwards! Crosshair slithered into the fray.

“Boys…” Echo sighed and collected the other boxes before they could get crushed by three grown men wrestling and giggling like shiny cadets.

When the dust settled, Wrecker had Hunter in a headlock while Crosshair perched on Wrecker’s back, gazing thoughtfully at the collection of medals.

“What’s in it?” Wrecker asked, ruffling Hunter’s hair as he kept him pinned.

Crosshair frowned and reached for another medal. And another. And another…

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Hunter grumbled, wriggling futilely in Wrecker’s iron grip.

“You…put the same message on each medal,” Crosshair said.

He didn’t read the inscription aloud.

[This medal is awarded to Hunter for being the proudest oldest brother in this Badass Batch. I love you guys.]

“Wrecker, let him go.” He hopped off his brother’s back and handed a medal to Echo and Wrecker to read. 

“It's the same message on each medal because I felt the same way after every mission," Hunter sighed. "So, go ahead and laugh.”

“You should’ve told us you were doing this,” Crosshair said, handing the box back to Hunter. 

“Yeah! We could’ve made you a medal, too!” Wrecker said, handing a medal back.

"Yeah...well..." Hunter shrugged and looked away. “I didn’t ask you here to make medals for me. I asked you here because I’d like to make some medals for Omega too.”

Wrecker gasped. “Ooh, that's a good idea!”

“So we write anything we want?” Crosshair asked.

“Anything you want,” Hunter said. “We’ll make them together, a daily project, as many medals as we can think of before she gets back. It ain’t a competition, but I’d like to fill it up.” He showed them the latest box with an energy crossbow and white skull painted on top.

“Let's hear our orders then, Sarge,” Echo said. 

“Right,” Hunter puffed up. “Alright, boys, here’s the plan. Wrecker, secure us some bundt cakes from Shep for this week’s end. Lemon for Omega, red velvet for me n’ you, dark chocolate for Crosshair, and confetti for Echo.”

“Roger that!” Wrecker said, and headed off to his solo mission.

“Echo, gather up some construction flimsy and ribbons from Feilo’s shoppe. Yellow and gray color scheme preferred. And we need adhesives, markers, paints, and a few rotary precision tools.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Echo said, and was next to leave.

“Crosshair, you and I are on a scavenger hunt to the junkyard for any materials that look like our old medals. Metal plates, golden chains-”

“Those magnetic rectangular medals that never stuck on our plates quite right?”

Hunter laughed. “Heh, exactly.”

Crosshair got to his feet and extended his hand. “Let's go.”

Hunter clasped Crosshair's hand.

He expected to be pulled up…

…but he didn’t expect to be pulled into a hug.

It was a brief hug. It was a tight hug. And it was exactly what he needed. 

“Thank you,” Crosshair mumbled, releasing him and not looking his brother in the eye. “For keeping my medals, too.”

Hunter put a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming back to us.”

[sadiecoocoo]

Hoth - tcw fanfiction

Relationships - CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives & Clone Trooper Hardcase, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker

Tags - Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Blood and Injury, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Whump, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Needs a Hug, Hurt CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives are Twins, Hurt CT-27-5555 | Fives, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Whump, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives is a Good Bro, Protective CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, Humor, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Planet Hoth (Star Wars), CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Protective CT-7567 | Rex, Concussions, Avalanches

Summary - A small group of Torrent Company, including Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Rex, and Anakin, are sent down to the icy planet, Hoth, to distribute supplies for the new research facility there. Their stay is extended as they are informed that a scouting patrol went missing, likely from the cold and lack of supplies. The group splits up to scout out the area surrounding the base. The Domino Twins survey the mountain range alone, and of course, run into trouble as an avalanche is triggered. Echo is badly injured in the aftermath, and Fives is turned around with no idea of which way the base is. They must try to survive the icy plains until they are rescued.

Word Count - 3,913

Read on AO3

Notes: This is for the 2024 Star Wars Prequels Big Bang! @swprequels-big-bang I worked with @thingskorokhasdrawn for the art and @battlekilt as my beta! tysm to both of you, I had sm fun working on this <3 anyways, I promised a while ago on my Tumblr that I'd make some Echo and Fives centric whump, so here it is! please enjoy <3

Echo loaded another crate onto the shuttle. He dropped it with a huff, then went back into the hangar to grab another. A few paces away, Fives chatted with Hardcase.

“Hey, you two mind helping at all?” Echo asked snarkily, though it held no malice. The two other clones turned to him, Fives sticking out his tongue at his twin. Echo mimicked the action.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” Hardcase quipped as he leaned down to grab a crate of supplies.

Fives, being outvoted, did the same. With their combined efforts, they finished the task fairly quickly, just in time for when Rex and the General arrived.

“Alright, boys,” General Skywalker started. “This is a quick in-and-out. We drop off supplies to help get the set-up of a new facility, then we get back to where it’s warm,” he explained. Echo was grateful to know that the group wouldn’t have to spend a night on the ice-flats of Hoth.

“Let’s load up,” Rex ordered, causing the group to board the shuttle and the pilot to get in the cockpit. 

“Thank the force we won’t have to be there long,” Echo murmured to his ori’vod .

“I’m sure something will go wrong,” Fives said with a grin as he punched Echo playfully.

“Have a little optimism, vod ,” Echo continued their banter, wrapping an arm around his vod’s shoulder.

The group dissolved into silence, save for the occasional remark from Hardcase, as the ship descended into the atmosphere of the ice planet. They all could hear the harsh wind whipping against the ship’s hull. Echo shuddered at the thought of having to feel the blunt force of that wind.

Soon enough, the shuttle touched down and opened its doors to the harsh cold. Echo frowned as snow flew into the ship. He shook his head and followed the rest of the squad. The ARC trooper rubbed his hands together before grabbing one of the crates.

“Are we sure this is the best place to have a facility?” Fives yelled over the wind.

Echo shrugged in response before Rex answered, “There already is a facility.” The Captain started, “It was a Separatist base, but a squad took out the clankers, and now some scientists in the Republic want to use it.” He explained. 

“If this is just a supply drop-off,” Echo said as he carefully put down the crate he had been holding. “Why is the General here?” He asked.

The aforementioned General had gone off to speak with one of the scientists that had taken residence at the base.

“To get a chance to spend some time with his lover,” Fives muttered to him with a nudge. Echo chuckled as he glanced at the Captain, wondering if he may have heard Fives’ remark.

“Or to get away from his other one.” Hardcase joined in with a loud guffaw.

“I can’t take you boys anywhere,” Rex mumbled with a shake of his head, though there was humor evident in his tone.

The troublemakers laughed as they continued to work for several more minutes. Not too long later, they had unloaded all the supplies and were resting.

Echo shivered as a particularly cold gust of wind assaulted him. Flakes of snow had stuck to his armor and melted, leaving small stains on the durasteel.

“When do you think the General will be done?” Fives asked, leaning back against a crate.

“Dunno,” Echo answered with a shrug. “But I doubt there’s much a scientist would need to tell a Jedi,” he guessed. Fives mumbled something about being cold and this taking too long. Echo patted his vod’s shoulder. 

“Change of plans!” Echo jumped at the General’s voice. He stood at attention, waiting for whatever miserable news Skywalker had to share. “We’re gonna have to scout out the area around the facility,” he explained. The entire squad’s mood seemed to sink at that; the cold was bad enough already, and there were heaters all around the base. It’d be ten times worse out there.

“What happened?” Rex asked.

“Some troops already stationed here had sent out a scouting party, but they never returned,” he answered with a shake of his head. “It might have just been the cold, or it might have been hostiles. They don’t have enough people to send another scout party, so they left that up to us,” he finished with a frown.

Fives and Echo exchanged a glance.

“Well,” Rex said with a sigh, “Let’s get moving.”

Fives dismounted the tauntaun he had been given and walked over to the edge of the snowy cliff. Over the snowy plains, he searched for some kind of threat; there was nothing; the planet was desolate and empty. “See anything?” Echo called, still mounted. Fives didn’t blame him; the tauntauns gave them a little bit of warmth.

“Just more snow,” Fives replied miserably. He mounted back onto his tauntaun and continued up the mountain. Echo followed. 

The squad had split up: Rex with Hardcase and General Skywalker, and Fives with Echo. Echo and Fives were tasked with searching the mountain, then the plains surrounding it. The other group would venture in the opposite direction and search the snow plains there.

Fives rubbed his hands together as he urged his tauntaun to move a bit faster. The sooner they got this done, the better.

“What do you say we take a rest up there?” Echo yelled over the wind, pointing to a ledge not too far from them. Fives gave him a thumbs up, then rode his tauntaun over to said ledge before dismounting. 

Echo did the same, then grabbed a metal spike from the satchel on his tauntaun. He plunged it into the ground, then tied the reins around it. Fives got his own and did similarly to his vod .

Fives grabbed a ration bar from his pack and sat down in the snow with it. He took off his helmet and started eating the flavorless meal. Echo sat down next to him, a bit closer to the ledge.

“This sucks,” Fives mumbled between bites. Echo grunted in agreement before looking out over the plains below.

“It’s kind of pretty though, if you ignore the cold.” He said optimistically. Fives rolled his eyes in response.

“Only you could call an empty snow plain pretty.” He muttered snarkily. Echo mimicked him in a high-pitched voice, causing the twins to laugh.

Suddenly, the tauntauns seemed to get anxious. They both started struggling from the spikes, trying to jump away. Fives got up to try to calm his.

“Whoah,” He said soothingly, “Easy girl.” He rubbed the tauntaun’s neck fur, though it did little to calm it. He was about to turn to ask his vod what he thought might be wrong. It seemed like some of the obscure information that he might know, but then he heard a deep rumbling in the ground, followed by the cracking of ice.

“Echo,” He started before the sound got louder. His brother stumbled on the ledge, eyes growing wide as large cracks formed in the ice. Fives jumped towards his brother just as the ledge crumbled, causing both clones to fall down the cliffside.

Fives awoke with a painful cough, followed by a groan of pain. There was pressure on him, like he was buried in something. He kicked out on the small layer of snow that covered half his body, then dragged himself a few feet away.

He curled in on himself, shivering violently. Snow had gotten in his armor, making the insulation useless in keeping him warm. He had no idea where his bucket was, so there was no way to keep his face warm either.

“Echo,” He mumbled, half aware of why he felt the urge to call out for his brother. Then, he seemed to wake up a bit more, and he jolted upright. He didn’t have many injuries, but he felt sore, and the abrupt action sent a jolt of pain through his body.

“Echo!” he yelled, trying to crawl back to the pile of snow he had emerged from. He started clawing at the snow, moving large junks out of the way. “Echo, where are you!” He yelled desperately. 

Fives scanned the area around him, hoping to see a hint of durasteel glinting in the snow. He caught a glimpse of something dark a little ways away, and he quickly stumbled towards it.

There was a red stain in the snow, and right next to it, he saw a bit of durasteel armor that hadn’t been covered by the blizzard. “Echo,” he called, digging into the snow until he could feel his brother and drag him out.

He pulled him out by the armpits. His brother was limp in his arms. Echo’s head lulled to the side, eyes closed. Fives feared the worst as he dragged his brother away from the aftermath of the avalanche.

He laid Echo down in the snow. Fives tried to wipe some of the blood off of Echo’s face, but he had a head injury. He shakily felt for his vod’s pulse. It felt weak, but it was there.

Fives shook his vod’ika to try to rouse him awake. He wouldn’t move. He placed pressure on the head injury, trying his best to stop the bleeding.

“ Eyayah , wake up,” He begged, moving to try chest compressions. He didn’t know if that would help, and after a few minutes of it not doing anything, he went back to trying to shake him awake. He fumbled to try and find a stim in his pack, but most of its contents had fallen out during the avalanche.

“ Eyayah… ” Fives’ voice shook as he leaned down and rested his head on his vod’ika’s chest. He felt the rise and fall of his cuirass, which at least meant he was breathing.

Fives sat back up, solidifying his resolve as he decided that if he couldn’t resuscitate his vod , then he would get him back to the base. He whistled for his tauntaun, but got nothing in return. He hadn’t really been expecting anything either.

He looked around through the blizzard. Fives didn’t know which way was to the base, he didn’t even know which side of the mountain they had fallen off of. Finally remembering that he had it, he tried his com-link.

He was only answered by static; the blizzard wouldn’t let the signal through. He tried Echo’s as well but got the same result.

“Kriff,” He muttered, then to Echo, “I’ll get us out of this, vod’ika . Ni oritsir. ” Fives vowed.

He carefully stood, the wind trying to force him back into the snow. He leaned back down and put a hand under Echo’s back, making him sit up. Fives grabbed Echo’s middle and hoisted him onto his shoulder, stumbling slightly from the added weight. He tried not to think about Echo being completely limp in his hold.

Making a guess from the little amount of sunlight he could see through the blizzard, Fives picked a direction, then started trekking through the snow.

It didn’t take long for him to not be able to feel his fingers anymore. He was stumbling through the snow, almost falling several times. The wind did little to help, making it impossible to walk in a straight line.

“I-I’m sure we’re almost there, Eyayah .” He said to his unconscious brother. He had tried talking to him at different intervals, hoping that something would wake him up, or at least comfort him. He was starting to think that he was doing it more for himself than for Echo. It had started to feel like a lifeline.

Fives’ legs buckled from underneath him. He fell face first into the snow, dropping his vod. He just barely heard the sharp intake of a breath as Echo hit the ground. Fives sprung up at the noise.

“Echo?” He asked, trying to shake his brother awake again. The ARC trooper’s face was scrunched up in pain, and he let out a tight groan. “Oh, thank the Force!” Fives said with relief. He knew that a groan of pain wasn’t too reassuring, but it was another confirmation that Echo was alive.

“...Fives?” Echo mumbled with a hoarse voice. Fives laughed hysterically in relief. He was cut short when he noticed the red on Echo’s teeth. He frowned as he remembered their situation.

“I’m right here, Eyayah ,” he said, gently grabbing his brother’s face. He rubbed his thumbs over Echo’s cheeks. His vod leaned into the touch.

“Wha… happened?” He forced out. He was slurring his words, and his eyes were unfocused; it looked like Echo wasn’t even seeing fives.

“Th-there was an avalanche,” He explained, getting up to try and carry Echo again. “I’m trying to get us back to base.” He made the same movements as before to hoist him over his shoulder, but this time, Echo let out a pained sound.

Fives immediately rested his brother back into the snow. He quickly looked over his pained expression, holding his hands up, not sure of what to do.

“What’s wrong, vod ?” He said quickly. Fives ghosted his hands over Echo’s chest after too long without an answer. Echo took in a sharp inhale as Fives touched his side.

“Sith spit.” He muttered. He put pressure on Echo’s side, stopping immediately as Echo let out a pained sound. Echo tried to push him away, his arms flailing weakly.

Fives cooed at him softly, trying to calm his half-conscious brother. “It’s alright, Eyayah , we’re gonna get you back to base.” He promised.

The ARC likely had a broken rib. Fives cursed their luck. How did he end up unscathed while Echo was littered with injuries?

He gently grabbed his brother’s hand and squeezed it. Echo’s eyes were shut tightly in a grimace.

Fives looked around, his vision blocked by the snowy winds. He could just barely make out the outline of a ridge. Fives turned back to Echo.

“This is gon-gonna hurt a lot.” He warned as he grabbed his brother’s arms. He started dragging Echo behind him, leaving a scar in the snow as they went.

His legs gave out again when he made it to the ridge. He fell against it, leaning his head back for a moment. He shivered and hugged his stomach as he curled up.

After he had recovered enough to move again, he pulled Echo close to him. Fives wrapped his arms around his vod , providing as much warmth as he could.

He tucked Echo’s head under his chin, pressing down on his dark curls. He watched as Echo’s breath came out in white puffs. He was still breathing. He was still alive.

“W-we’ll be okay-okay, Eyayah .” He mumbled weakly as he closed his eyes. The two of them were shivering wildly, their bodies trying to warm them up.

He hugged Echo tighter, as tight as his strength allowed. Echo’s head lolled onto Fives’ chest.

“We’ll be okay.”

Fives stumbled again, almost falling. He carried Echo piggy-back style, his arms under his legs to support him. Echo’s head rested on his shoulder.

The sun had broken through the tormenting storm. Fives had found the strength to climb up the ridge they took shelter against and tried to scout out where the base was.

It was far, but he could see it in the distance. Fives cursed himself as he realized he had been going the complete opposite way. He had started the long trek as soon as he felt strong enough to carry his vod’ika .

The cold seeped into his bones, making him shaky and weak. He couldn’t feel his hands when he didn’t move them, and when he did, it was extremely painful. Pins and needles assaulted him with every step he took. His legs were beginning to cramp.

Fives fell again into the snow. Flakes of it shook off of his hair and joined the white desert. Echo was on top of him, and Fives didn’t feel like he had the strength to push him off and get up.

He tried, placing his hands under him and pushing against the ground. He fell back down, his face becoming buried in the snow. He heard Echo’s faint breathing next to his ear.

Fives suppressed a sob. Everything either hurt or he couldn’t feel it. He was impossibly cold. Snow covered his armor and face, freezing on his skin.

Fives reached back and grabbed Echo’s hand. He squeezed it tightly. Fives let his face fall into the snow. He let out a shaky breath. He closed his eyes; he didn’t have the strength to keep going.

“M’sorry,” he said, barely audible even to him.

Rex kicked at his tauntaun, urging it to go faster. His heart was beating a mile a minute. His breathing was shallow and quick.

When they had returned from their own patrol, Fives and Echo hadn’t checked in. He had hoped that maybe they just weren’t at a good place or that their signal was interrupted by the storm.

Then it got dark as the combination of night and the storm blocked out the light of the stars. Rex had worried a bit more, but he trusted his ARCs.

Then, one of their tauntauns came back. Alone. One tauntaun and no rider returning from a patrol of two. Anakin had to physically hold him back from going out into the blizzard to find his ARCs.

He didn’t sleep last night, worry and fear making him too nauseous to keep his eyes closed. He left as soon as the blizzard stopped a bit before sunrise. He guessed the General would be pissed, but there were bigger things to worry about at the moment.

His tauntaun made a noise of protest as he once again urged it to go faster. He thought he saw something out in the distance. He wouldn’t risk being too late because his tauntaun was complaining. 

“Fives! Echo!” He tried. His voice was hoarse from yelling out into the snowy planes. He clicked the tauntaun’s side again, whipping the reins.

Rex saw it again. A glint of something blue in the snow. He jumped off his tauntaun, not bothering to bring the creature to a full stop. He stumbled through the snow before regaining his balance, then ran towards that bit of blue he saw.

He fell to his knees as he slid to a stop. He clawed through the snow until he revealed Echo’s face, blood drying on his forehead. He pulled the obviously injured ARC out, then continued to dig for his brother.

Both of them were unconscious. Fives didn’t seem injured, but the cold had exhausted him.

“General!” Rex yelled into his comm, “I found them- I need a medic!” He said frantically. He searched for both of their pulses, Echo’s first. There was a light thumping under his fingers, far too slow.

“ We’ll bring a transport, ” Skywalker said through the comms. Rex didn’t bother answering, too busy making sure his ad’ike were still alive. He moved over to Fives. The ARC looked fairly uninjured, but with the cold, that wouldn't really matter.

Fives mumbled something that Rex couldn’t hear. He turned his attention to him as he cupped his cheek. His eyes were half-lidded, looking vacant.

“Fives-“ Rex’s voice broke, “Fives can you hear me?” He tried. Fives groaned. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned his head into Rex’s hand.

“ Buir… ” he mumbled weakly, barely above a whisper.

“I’m here, it’s gonna be okay.” Rex assured. He grabbed Fives’ bicep and squeezed it comfortingly, doing similarly to Echo.

“You’re both gonna be okay.” He promised, praying to the Force that it’d be true. Where is that damned transport?

There was a constant beeping in the background. Echo’s sleep-addled brain barely comprehended it. He scrunched up his nose and groaned at the noise, turning over in the sheets so his face was pushed into the pillow.

The beeping persisted, and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. Bright fluorescent lighting made him push further into the pillow, though this time he took his annoyance quietly. He tried again, this time opening his eyes much more slowly.

He was on a medical bed, and there were several blankets piled on top of him. He blinked in confusion, trying to wash away the last of the sleep. It wasn’t standard for any trooper to have so many blankets in the medbay; surely there was someone else who needed them.

He looked around the room. When he tried to sit up, he only collapsed once again as a wave of dizziness made black spots dance across his vision. He shivered, feeling a wave of cold.

He lay facing the ceiling for what felt like an eternity, waiting for this dizzy spell to leave him alone. Once he felt confident enough to sit up again, he fully took in the medbay. No one but him was in the room, though he thought he could hear muffled talking from behind the door.

There was a shuffling next to him; then someone grabbed his bandaged hand. He jumped as he looked down at the surprise person. His face relaxed into a relieved smile at the sight of his brother.

“Go back to sleep, Eyayah .” Fives muttered softly. Echo obliged, laying back down comfortably. However, he only looked over his brother, searching for any injuries he may have had in whatever mission that got Echo sent to the medbay.

“What-” He coughed several times, his dry throat scraping. “What happened?” He asked once he had regained his voice. The ARC slumped into the pillow, content to let the massing heap of blankets weigh him down.

“There was an avalanche when we were scouting.” Fives said, he sounded sad. Echo wished he could squeeze his hand, but the bandaging held his fingers in place. “You got knocked out, I got all turned around. We spent a night out in the cold.” He was starting to sound distant, nothing at all like his chipper self.

“You get hurt?” Echo asked, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. Fives only shrugged, turning his face to cover his nose and mouth with one of the wool covers. Echo moved his free hand to rest on top of Five’s head.

“‘M okay now, vod ,” Echo said softly. He tried to fight the urge to sleep again, trying to blink less often once he noticed each blink lasted longer and felt heavier.

“Rex said the General would let us name the base,” Fives cut in, trying to fill the silence. Echo let out a soft hum, having lost the battle of keeping his eyes open. He still felt cold, and just wanted to snuggle up under all the covers. Though, he wished the beeping would stop, even if it was just a heart monitor.

“I was thinking we could name it Echo Base.” Fives said, utilizing a teasing tone. Echo frowned, peeking one eye open as he gave Fives an unimpressed look.

“There’re way cooler names than just calling it Echo Base .” Echo grumbled, scrunching up his nose. Fives snorted as he lightly bumped Echo’s elbow.

“Too late, I already told them.” Echo didn’t need to open his eyes to see the shit-eating grin on his brother’s face. He let out a huff.

“Can’t wait to get a transfer away from you.” He drawled sarcastically. It elicited a mock-offended gasp from his brother. He smiled softly as he let himself sink further into the pillow.

End Notes: Mando'a Translations Vod - sibling/brother vod'ika/vod'ike - little brother/little brothers ori'vod - older brother eyayah - Echo Ni oritsir - I promise (not exact translation) buir - parent/father again, I really enjoyed working on the big bang, it was my first ever event! I hoped everyone enjoyed and that you all have a lovely day <3

[thecoffeelorian]

Fandom Friday, 08/09: Fanart

Hello again, everyone...and welcome to another installment of Fandom Friday, the two-post series where I go off to find new and interesting fanworks that might need a bit more visibility.

Before we get started, however...I'd like to run a quick interest check for further updates on this subject, as I have recently dealt with a little pushback from a user who wanted nothing to do with this, and so don't want to annoy anybody else if they would truly prefer their uninterrupted browsing. 😅

Therefore...if you are still interested in being tagged for this, or if you are a new friend who wants to be included in all future updates, then please leave this little icon (👩‍🎤) in the comments or reblogs.

If not...then just don't like, reblog, or comment at all, and I'll be sure to remove you. Ya know, because I'm not some crazy weirdo who stays up all night plotting new ways to bother people...or whatever.

Anyway. Now that I've put in my two cents on the subject, here are my fanart picks of the week.

THE HIGH REPUBLIC

The High Republic Fanart--By @magicalplaylist:

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanart--By @tlmtwelve

The Clone Wars Fanart--By @runekirikjartan:

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanart--By @nerdygreenhouse:

The Bad Batch Fanart--By @beeartsy:

ROGUE ONE

Rogue One Fanart--By @foolishskull

AHSOKA

Ahsoka Fanart--By @constellacrow:

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and, on Friday every week, highlight those artists who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the artists a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…this post will be continued in its second half: the Fanfiction Edition.

Thank you, good morning, and I’ll see you in the next post!

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @theosb0rnway @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenabb104104 @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanart.

[crosshairlovebot]

in the dreaming comes the warmth / the domino twins

characters: echo & fives (NOT CLONEC*ST)

description: the ache of missing fives leaves a hole in echo's chest that only his brother's warmth can fill.

warnings: angst. loss. grief. mourning. echo is still grieving despite being part of clone force 99. it's not mentioned, but i imagine this particular moment of pain is triggered by crosshair's chip activation and leaving him behind on kamino.

this was a request from a lovely twitter mutual who wanted a hug between echo and fives <3 i haven't written for echo before so i hope i did him justice. also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Echo knew he was dreaming when he recognised the bright white hallways of Tipoca City, which in the waking world sat submerged in the Kaminoan oceans to fade into rust forever. The hallways were as familiar to him as the curves of his face, memorised and so burned into his memory it was no real shock that he could navigate them as he did now in his sleep.

Echo walked through the corridors, passing what he knew were squads of his fellow troopers with faces identical to his, except his dreaming made them blurry, not fully formed. He passed the gangly Kaminoan’s, their large eyes prominent in the haze of their figures, which seemed to blend with the clinical white of the walls. He didn’t exactly know where he was walking until his feet took him to the junior cadet barracks, the ones he and his brothers shared in their brief childhood.

It was surreal seeing it now, as he walked in, the shapes of the beds and the curves of the walls more defined than the hallways, more distinct in his mind. He took it all in, breathing in the scentless air. The last time he was here, he didn’t even have his name yet – none of them did.

The beds were so much smaller than he remembered. He smiled and sat down on one. He ran a hand he shouldn’t have over the cloth blanket, its fibers feeling as familiar as his own skin. An ache formed in his chest for all he had lost.

The door whooshed open, and his head shot in the direction of the noise. It was then he saw himself run in and climb onto the nearest bed, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms.

Echo blinked in surprise.

His child self was curled into a ball, as tight as he could manage, and Echo could only see the curly dark hair of his head. He remembered he used to do that when he got overwhelmed, but he couldn’t remember when he stopped. He watched his child self grip onto the sleeves of his standard issue cadet uniform tightly, the knuckles on his little hands white.

His child self didn’t see him and made no moves to show that he knew Echo was there at all. It was strange to see himself like this. To see a snapshot of the person he was for a short amount of time.

Echo slowly stood up, the urge to know what it was that made his child self cry when the door opened again, and his breath got caught in his throat and his eyes stung when he saw who it was that stepped in the door.

This was not just a dream, but a memory.

Fives’s tiny face was the same as his had been, except his brother’s seemed to be perpetually twisted into a smirk, and if it wasn’t, it itched at the corners of his mouth, ready to bloom at a moment’s notice. But his face now held no impishness, instead, his small brows were furrowed as his gaze landed on his brother’s curled-up body on the bed.

“Hey, 21-0408, why the long face?”

Echo had to sit down and cover his mouth with a hand to stop the sob that dared to escape his throat. His brother’s voice, albeit that of his child self, felt so incredibly comforting. He thought he’d never hear it again, even if it was that little boy’s voice that all clones had as young cadets. To Echo, it just sounded like him; like Fives; like it did in his fuzzy memories.

His childhood had been a fleeting blur of training programs and accelerated growth, so he didn’t remember much of it. But he didn’t forget moments like this, where his brother’s love had engulfed him.  

Echo watched his child self slowly peek his eyes out from his arms at his older brother.

“Go away,” Little Echo mumbled.

“Come on, 21-0408,” Little Fives said and climbed up onto the bed next to him, trying to pry open his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Little Echo ripped his arm away and wiped his tear-stained face and nose with his sleeve. Echo grimaced as he saw the dark line that now appeared on the red fabric. He forgot kids could be gross sometimes, even himself.

“I said, go away, 27-5555,” Little Echo grumbled. “I want to be alone.”

Little Echo had no idea just how much time he would spend alone.

“Why?” Of course, Fives never let up about anything, even as a child.

Little Echo scowled at his shoes on the bed. “I…I keep messing up…”

“This module is hard, vod’ika,” Little Fives placed a hand on Little Echo’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Fives was barely older than Echo, but his older brother never let him forget it. With the Mando’a nickname ‘little brother’ sticking to Echo for practically as long as he’d known Fives. He pretended to hate it, and he’d give anything to hear it again. So, hearing it now, Echo’s heart seized. He wanted to grab his younger self by the shoulders and tell him to treasure the nickname; to never roll his eyes and pretend to hate it; to call Fives ori’vod in return because he knew he’d get a kick out of it.

“But everyone’s good at this module except me…” Little Echo voiced quietly, not entirely convinced.

Echo tried to wrack his brain for what module his younger self was talking about, but his dreaming made it too hazy to pinpoint; like if his subconscious ventured too far away from the scene in front of him it would fizzle away, and his dream would move onto something else. And he wanted to stay in this for as long as he could.

“You’ll get it eventually; it just takes practice,” Little Fives reassured.

“I’m going to fail…and never be a soldier…” his younger self sniffled. Echo saw his eyes gloss over again with unshed tears.

“Don’t talk like that,” Little Fives chastised, punching him lightly in the shoulder, a furious look on his face. “You’ll be fine. I’ll help you.”

Little Echo’s face lit up with hope. “You will?”

Little Fives nodded. “That’s what brothers do. We look out for each other; have each other’s backs.”

Echo watched his younger self sniffle as he looked at his older brother, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Promise?” he said.

“Promise,” Little Fives said with so much conviction, that it made Echo’s heart squeeze again. He was always so sure of everything, never faltering – not even for a second. Once Fives believed in something, he didn’t waver. Ever.

Little Echo smiled, and wrapped his arms around his brother, who hugged him tightly. Echo watched them embrace, anchoring themselves to each other. He didn’t realise he was crying until he felt a tear fall on his hands in his lap. He reached up to wipe them away, scoffing lightly at himself.

“Hey, Echo, why the long face?”

Echo’s heart seemed to expand and stop as he turned around, seeing Fives standing there behind him several metres away. He turned back to where their younger selves sat on the bed and saw they had vanished, that the room had melted away into a long bright endless plane.

“Fives?” Echo wiped his face again and he saw Fives grin at him, before walking over. Echo blinked around the tears to take the sight of him. His figure was much clearer than anything else he’d seen so far in his dreams. Fives was adorned in his ARC trooper armour; helmet tucked under his arm with a proud smile stretched across his face. He willed his subconscious to stay in this moment, that it would be cruel to rip him from it with no warning. He needed time with him.

“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Fives joked when he came closer, his mouth quirked in that smirk that was so incredibly familiar seeing it felt like coming home.

Echo laughed tearfully. “Your ugly face is just so scary, I can’t help but cry.”

Fives threw his head back in a loud guffaw before punching Echo lightly on the arm. “It’s good to see you, vod’ika.”

Echo’s heart filled with so much warmth at the affection. “Good to see you too, Fives.”

Fives smiled at him before Echo asked, “What are you doing here?”

Fives didn’t respond, he just looked at Echo thoughtfully. Echo cleared his throat and shook his head. “When they found me on Skako Minor and you weren’t with them…”

He felt Fives’s heavy hand land on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I know. But I’m here now.”

Echo felt his lip tremble and he willed himself to take a breath. “I missed so much time with you.”

Fives shook his head. “Don’t think about that.”

“How can I not? I missed everything. I missed…”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that anyway.”

He didn’t need to say the words for Echo to know what he was referring to.

“I…I would’ve believed you.”

“Then you would be dead too.”

Clones were conditioned not to linger on the losses of their fellow brothers. It was the nature of what they were bred for. Born knowing they would die. They were taught to take a moment to mourn, then to keep going. There was no time to let the grief linger in war.

But this was much harder than Echo had been conditioned to think.

Echo’s grief for losing Fives was too complicated for that. Echo lost Fives after the fact. He was mourning him outside of the mourning period, outside of the war. And it was something he didn’t know how to handle. The grief could sit for longer, dawdle almost now that there wasn’t another mission to focus on instead. And it was painful. A never-ending agony that oscillated between a dull ache to suffocating sharpness in the hole of his chest.

Fives had been a constant in his life, from cadets to losing their squad on Rishi Moon, to joining Rex in the 501st, all the way until the fateful night of the Citadel rescue. Fives had been there for all of it. Even thereafter, in the brief lucid moments in cryostasis on Skako, his thoughts would drift to his ori’vod. So, to be released into that mourning, to realise he was free, but without his beloved brother by his side was lonelier than stasis had been.

And hearing how exactly Fives met his end had not made it any easier. It was the unfairest of deaths, and that knowledge almost hurt more. That he wasn’t there. How if he had been, it may have gone differently.

There were so many moments where Echo would think of something he wanted to tell Fives, only to realise a moment later that he couldn’t. It was a cycle of remembering he was gone. Those milliseconds of bliss, before he remembered, were bookended by the searing hurt. And there was no one to share that hurt with.

Rex was elusive in his hiding and had gone through his mourning period. And though Clone Force 99 had provided him with a home, a comradery, that he was grateful for, they had not lost anyone the way Echo had lost Fives. They didn’t fully understand.

Echo just wanted the one person who understood him, who knew him inside and out.

In other, much less complicated words, Echo missed Fives so, so much.

And at those lowest moments when he missed him; when the aching felt never-ending and moving forward felt futile, Echo imagined what it would’ve been like had they both found their ends together. How much easier it would’ve been on his heart, to know that his brother was with him even in death. That if there was an afterlife, it would be spent together. That their hearts had stopped at the same time, one not forced to go on without the other helping keep it in rhythm.

The galaxy had not been so kind to grant him that.

“I…I know,” Echo replied quietly, his throat thick.

He watched Fives’ face study him for a moment before his brow settled into a crease, and his hand tightened on Echo’s shoulder. “Echo…don’t be sad.”

Echo looked at him with disbelief. He could see all the texture in his face and feel the puff of breath against his nose. It was as if he wasn’t dreaming at all. “How…how can I not be sad? You’re not here.”

“No, but you are. You have a second chance, Echo. A second chance to live.”

Echo shook his head. “You should be here too.”

“Maybe. But my path was different to yours. You finally get a chance to choose what you do with your life. Nobody else; you, vod’ika. That freedom I was fighting for? You have it now. You have for both of us. Do something good with it. Something we’d both be proud of.”

Echo looked at his brother searching his face for something he couldn’t name. Maybe he wasn’t searching at all, but memorising. Memorising the look Fives was giving him now; the pride, the unwavering belief he had in him. He hadn’t seen it in such a long time. No one had expected anything of him in just as long.

“Promise me you will, Echo.”

He didn’t even need to think about it. “I promise.”

Echo could feel the waking world calling him, so before Fives faded away, he wrapped his arms around his brother. Fives dropped his helmet and didn’t hesitate to embrace Echo back. Arms tightly holding each other, hearts pressed together and beating in time. Echo could feel Fives’s solid chest and his warmth as if he were awake. Everything felt right in the brief, brief moment. That anchor had returned. That pain in his heart had dulled in his dreaming and been replaced with the warmth of his brother he’d been wishing for. He gripped the edges of his brother’s armour, afraid to let go, to leave this moment. But knew he had to. He’d made a promise.

“I love you, Fives,” he choked out.

He felt Fives’s palm run over his hair as he spoke against his ear. “I know. I love you too. Remember, I’m looking out for you.”

Echo jolted awake. His chest heaved as he tried to remember where he was, and his body ached like it just run a marathon. Across the small corridor, Wrecker slept, soft snores sounding. The nightlight in Omega’s space glowed softly through the curtains, and Hunter had fallen asleep on the floor, his back leaning on the wall next to the ladder, no doubt guarding their sister’s bad dreams. He could hear Tech tinkering away in the cockpit, on watch as they flew through hyperspace. Where was Crosshair?

Oh. Right.

Echo ran a hand over his face and turned towards the wall, his eyes stinging with tears. He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his middle, ignoring the bulk of his scomp. He tried to preserve the warmth he felt from his dreams which threatened to evaporate in the chill of hyperspace. He pressed his eyes shut, willing himself to go back into that dream, to return to Fives and get one last look at him, but it was no use. He was here. And Fives was there, or somewhere.

It could’ve been a few minutes or an hour when he heard a voice. “Echo?”

He turned to see Tech looking down at him in his bunk, adjusting his goggles. “What is it, Tech?”

“I’m afraid it’s your turn on watch.”

“Great. Thanks,” Echo grumbled.

He tried to inconspicuously wipe his eyes as he swung his metal legs out of the bunk and stood up, stretching his neck. He watched Tech remove his goggles and rub his eyes and sat down on the edge of Echo’s bunk. They had limited space, and Echo didn’t mind sharing.

“Sweet dreams,” Echo told him as Tech lay down, falling asleep almost immediately, as he tended to do.

Echo walked to the cockpit and shut the door so the light from their travels wouldn’t disturb the others. He sat in the pilot’s seat and sighed, putting his head in his hand, no hair on his head to clasp as he tried to recentre himself. He took in some steady breaths, focusing on a screw in the floor panelling. He did everything he could to quell the turning of his stomach and the throbbing in his chest. Just as quickly as it had filled in his dream, the waking world had returned that giant hole in his chest, seemingly aware that something had filled it again briefly, and now it felt the absence more.

When would this feeling of emptiness end?

The Marauder shifted in its hyperspace travels, tilting off course slightly, triggering some alarms. Echo immediately sprang into action, and his hand and scomp grabbed the controls to steady the ship. With a frown, he checked the stabilisers and saw they needed recalibrating. Didn’t Tech just deal with this after they’d left Ordo Moon mere hours ago? He tried and failed not to get annoyed – he just needed to fix this, and quickly so they didn’t veer off course and fall into a star. He sighed, knowing they’d have to come out of hyperspace for these repairs. Maybe the ship had been more damaged than he thought.

Echo slowly pulled back the hyperdrive lever and the ship came to a halt in open space. He hoped no one woke up with the disturbance and that this wouldn’t take long. They didn’t have time to waste. He placed the Marauder in idle whilst he scomped in and started recalibrating. It was a lot easier now that Tech had upgraded his cerebral interface, so there was less strain on him. He was able to scomp in and load up the commands without much effort. As the commands processed through the system, he watched the stabilisers respond and recalibrate in his mind’s eye.

It was then he felt a shiver run up his spine.

A monitor beeped, interrupting his realignment, and Echo looked at a screen searching for the alert among the pop-ups when he noticed the time.

05:55. Echo’s breath hitched.

He heard the door behind him slide open but didn’t look away from the monitor. He couldn’t.

“Everything okay in here? I felt something,” Hunter’s voice thick with sleep asked.

Echo kept his gaze on the numerals, and he allowed himself to smile, that warmth he’d been longing for slowly filling the hole in his chest.

“It will be,” he told Hunter.

Fives was keeping his promise, so Echo would too.

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3

🏷️ @starrylothcat @32rotations @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @ladyanidala @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls

TAGLIST FORM

[warsamongthestars]

BAD BATCH (CHARACTERS) + ECHO HEADCANONS-- WITH STORIED BITS!

Because I was inspired by tags, why not a round of BB HCs?

Not TBB, just BBs. The characters, and I'm coming out the Clone Wars primarily, with only bits taken from TBB. ( Like a good fanfic, Let's steal back the small good things )

I know, I analyze--so let's see how far I can stretch it, yeah?

Today we are HCing...

99 AND THE 99 PROJECT

THE BAD BATCH'S MUTATIONS (Thus their abilities)

DOMINO SQUAD

( I would label it as Mature (Because I have a general idea of labelling), but Tumblr decided to be fucking hilarious about it--so I'm going ask you to be Mature. There's nothing explicit here, its about as snarky as a Discworld novel. So Guess that means its Teens and Up, PG-13, or whatever. )

99 INSPIRED THE 99's PROJECT

"Old man 99!? THE JANITOR FROM KAMINO!?"

Whether 99 was an alphagen or a first-gen, the idea here is based on small TCWs comments. Stuff about "Growth" tubes.

Its probably in the capitalist-eugenics aliens' (kaminonians) interest to skip the uncomfortable bits in natural human growth. After all the uncomfortable bits of human growth aren't Profitable.

So, have an age to load a clone into a growth tube, and just, rapidly grow them until they're the stage you want (to be profitable). This means skipping teenage years. It means skipping the small childhood years.

So, given that 99 is mature and capable, he was likely loaded into a growth tube about where his "teen years" would start... and it went horribly wrong. Aging him by decades instead of a few years.

And the 99 project, would be Nala Se's little project, to find out why it went so wrong--and then to fix it for future clones. Because after all, you can't have an army of old men.

And judging by the fact that 99 is the only Old Man Clone we've seen in TCWs, I imagine the project worked as intended--and like any greedy eugenic science-capitalist, Nala Se decided:

"Y'know, I could do something more with this. I could find the most common 'bugs' in our clone genome, and I could stretch them, and modify them, and make benefits out of these flaws."

And the 99s were created

ADDENDUM - on Growth Tubes

Growth Tubes would only be successful if the human brain was stimulated rapidly as the body grew, or you risk compromising the human brain. Its a very delicate organ and rapid growth would be very bad. So flash-training, basically rapidly dumping organized information and sensory input, would occur over the course of the rapid-growth. This is to ensure you have a nice healthy human brain afterwards. There are clones who did end up with a "leaky growth tube" (rumors about Hardcase), where the only issue hat ended up happening is a deficit in attention spans and impulsiveness.

What's significant about First-Gen clones, is that they mostly went the old fashioned way of growing--as in slow (but accelerated) growing. After First-Gen, Kaminonians decided: "No, this is not fast enough... and its too stressful, Teenage clones complaining about growing pains and having attitudes--its just too much. What do they think this is, a Human Domicile?"

Fast-Tracked clones are those who ended up in a growth tube the majority of their time, and even then, skipped steps once they were out. Domino Squad, being fast-tracked, maintained the "attitude" flaws characteristic of those who didn't spend a whole lotta time working with brothers out of the tube.

This is also why all "standard" clones look older than their early twenties. Many were grown out, biologically hitting the fast-forward on growing years to be fully grown. Chronologically, they are official "10". They only have 10 years of life, by the start of the war. Accelerated Aging measurement? 20. Because they are made to age twice as fast a normal humans. Biologically? Mid-20 to early 30s. It helps the resemblance to their prime, and avoids any possibilities of "late growth spurts". Luckily, clones are made to stay in their prime far longer than a normal human.

2. THE MUTATIONS OF THE BAD BATCH "They're non-standard but with abilities not seen in even normal humans."

The problem with finding a 'flaw' in a genome is that you have to ask...

a). Who is saying there is a Flaw? Are they someone you want saying that there is a flaw?

b). Why is it a flaw? ... But is it really?

c). what are they going to do to "remedy" the "flaw"? Is it an actual remedy, or are they just saying it is.

And being capitalist-eugenic scientists, who study the science of profiting from genes and geneing from profits, certain "flaws" are going to be the non-profitable kind.

They probably think its a terrible terrible sin, that the human genome is not naturally made to make capital.

But through this list of Flaws, Nala Se decided--"we can gene splice can't we? Yes, why shouldn't I gene splice. I can make much better clones through splicing."

After all, if you're going to make money from genes, in order to do more geneing, adding more Genes should surely add more Money.

FOR WRECKER...

(Shift from "canon"--for thematic reasons, this Wrecker is 9901)

Kaminonians are baffled by how strong and yet delicate humans are. They can lift 300 pounds, and yet can still get crushed to death by 300 pounds.

Its ridiculous, really.

So Nala Se took notes and samples from the beauty and gracefulness that is the Rancor.

And for her designated 9901, gave him near instantaneously recovering muscle, that could lift 3x the normal 300 pounds of health humans, and indestructible bones.

Why if an explosion were to hit 9901's face head on fro the left side--it would not, in fact, pulverize his skull or any the soft tissues the skull protects. The eye would absolutely be kriffed though.

Sure, the increased metabolism might be a bit too grand for the rations...

But the Kaminonians were assured--they are specially crafted rations, and the clone will just have to adapt. Humans can just, not be hungry after all, why it takes a month for an average human to starve! If the clone complains, well he is getting fed so he wont' starve. It's a bargain, after all. He's lucky the Kaminonians are even bothering.

FOR HUNTER...

( Shift from "canon"--for thematic reasons, Hunter is now 9903 )

The various pores of the human face always seemed to... leak to the Kaminoinans. Why do humans have to do so much leaking? Ought to make all those "face pores" that do their "poring", do actual useful work for once.

So for 9903, he got an ampullae. Plenty of the predators on the planet of Kamino had ampullae, and they seem to get along just fine.

Because of the odd small organ network that encompassed his face and down his neck, connecting various natural human senses such as scent, taste, sight, and hearing, 9903 proved to be passively sensitive towards electromagnetic fields. He would always know where North is on a planet. He would always know where he was at, and what was around him.

Why, the Kaminonians though, that would be PERFECT for droids! Droids have electric-magnetic fields!

... The unfortunate fact, that the Kamionians neglected to add, is that Everything produced an electromagnetic field, and super imposing upon natural humans senses of "being sensitive to particles" and "being naturally sensitive to atomic wavelengths"...

is that it would be a sensory nightmare. A cacophony of hell from the very world around him, to consume him utterly.

Well... The clone will just have to adapt, as the Kaminonains say. By the very coral reefs of Kamino, the clones are just not grateful for the work we do over their petty little lives.

FOR CROSSHAIR...

( For thematic purposes--we're keeping 9904 )

Humans have such tiny eyes, the Kaminonians think, how do they see so much if they're so tiny? and sensitive. By the whale song of the sea, Human eyes are just Too Sensitive.

So for 9904, they gave him super sight. But not just super sight, but super duper protected sight. They decided that the vestigial "third eyelid" had no business being vestigial anymore, the lazy little thing, and regave it life in 9904's eyes.

Why it could protect from Water, and Dust, and Bright Lights.

And they, the Kaminonians, were really reeving up now. Why just stop there? Give him reflectors. Let him see in the dark!

Why didn't we think to do this for all the clones?

Because sudden lights and sudden darkness, would mess up his eyes immediately. Because long term lights would cause a sensory overload. And long term darkness would cause (temporary) color blindness.

And no amount of protection stops a blaster to the face.

Well, thinks the Kaminonains, Its not as bad as the last ones.

FOR TECH...

( For thematic purposes... he is 9906. Yes, I like "Baby Tech", shush you. )

We know exactly what to do with this one, thinks the Kaminonians. Humans are just so... Dull. We load their brains nice and healthy, and they're still so dull.

We want at least one to have an intelligent conversation with.

I KNOW, LET'S MODEL THIS ONE AFTER US--THE KAMINONIANS! And we're geniuses you know, why shouldn't at least... one clone, be a genius like us.

For 9906, they attempted the daunting task of Modifying the Brain. Increasing memory retention and synapses flexibility. Awareness and understanding--a living computational organ.

And 9906 was Perfect.

... Save that he did not like Kaminonians, because healthy human brains, by any standard, tend to develop things like "Understanding" and "Feelings for and about other People", and tend to greatly dislike those who want to treat other people monstrously.

Why, 9906 even argued against the treatment of Clones. Clones are capable of thought and creation, they are a people and thus their own culture.

And the Kaminonians mourned. Clearly, all the work they put into this brain was for Nothing!

It only wants to learn about the galaxy and discover the beauties and wonders behind technology and space and peoples--why, it doesn't think of Profit or Genes at all!

It even argued that it wasn't a Product to be Sold, but a person to be talked to. The Kaminonians found this scoffful.

It would learn, the Kaminonians decided, oh it would learn.

ADDENDUM

What about 9902 and 9905? Well... Heheheh.

DOMINO SQUAD "A real domino effect, this one."

There are birth batches, and there are batch-squads. Birth-batches separate to all become batch-squads... but not all batch-squads are from the same birth-batch.

Such is the case of the fast-tracked "Domino Squad". Because they were fast-tracked, these clones spent an unpresidented time in the growth-tube. And worse, each one had a falling out with their original batch-squad.

The one that would be known as "Hevy" was overly confrontational, and prone to starting fights. He failed out of his original batch-squad for his attitude and physical violence.

He mellowed out, once he found that his aggression lead to serious consequence, but it didn't completely stop the fights or the lone wolfing. (Until after graduation).

The one that would be known as "Cutup" never took anything seriously, and his old trainers (and old squad) had enough. The trooper didn't even take regulations seriously, and was caught with contraband (Cutup couldn't believe that simple playing cards were "contraband", haven't they ever heard of a game before?)

The one that would be known as "Droidbait", tended to give up too easily, in a total reverse to "Hevy's" situation. Surrender is not acceptable, and he'll have to relearn the hard way.

The one that would be known as "Fives", ironically, did not have a poor record following him for anything he did. Half of his birth-batch-squad were found deceased after a training exercise. The survivors were sent elsewhere. For this, Fives was a quiet, serious but very anxious cadet and rookie until he hit arc-trooper. He kept even his name close. Just in case. Fives got to watch one of the survivors graduate with Bravo Squad. He never found out what happened to him after that.. but he doesn't assume its good.

Always have to adapt on the fly, because if you don't, the situation might just kill you. No matter how "Safe" everyone says it is. In fact, especially if its "Safe".

The one that would be known as "Echo" was the most devious.

By all accounts, Echo was a stand up trooper--he read the regulations and followed them to the letter. He took pleasure in buffing his armor and uniform. He could recite exact rules, was perfect in inspections. He knew exactly where everything is and how to act as expected. A true "By the Book" trooper. Why, what could ever be wrong with Echo?

Because if you look like you belong, and if you know the rules, you can do Anything. And Echo, he knew that people knew that the Way Things Act were often considered more important than What Things Actually Are, but you still have to Play Expectations if you want to get what you want.

And Echo, he tended to learn how play expectations. The fact is, while it was considered an accident and misunderstanding--Echo put himself in a position to get transferred away from his old birth-squad.

( He had nothing against his old birth-batch. They were fine lads. But Echo refused to be canon-fodder. If he was going to go out into the galaxy and make a difference, he was going to do it his way--if he was going to get blown up, it was because he damn well decided he was going to get blown up, not because a general told him to. )

Yes it would mean being held back. But such is the price of prep work (He certainly didn't feel like he was ready--and he wanted to test the waters a bit longer), and well, there had to be brothers on Kamino, who actually think about what they're being told--not just blinding follow without consideration.

And you can only work the rules to your liking, if you know what the rules are. Good thing Echo likes to read.

ADDENDUM

Reason Birth-batch and Batch-Squad are separate, is because the general idea is that they birth clones enmass, but since we only ever see cadets in squads, they aren't necessarily trained enmass.

There had to be a reason why Echo had the Balls to jump Rank and talk to a General, as a cadet, as request transfer.

None of the numbers of Domino Squad match up to indicate that they're apart of the "Birth-Batch". So this sugested to me that they might be from different batches--and thusly, are probably a "throw them together" squad.

[noperopesaredope]

Do the Star Wars Clones Age at 2x Speed? Yes, and Here’s the Math

I recently decided to look up the canonical developmental ages of the clones while working on an AU concept, and while most sources said they age at twice the speed of humans, I saw a few others debating this notion. So I decided to do some research based on the time when each of the events happened and the realistic developmental age the clones could be during these periods when we see them.

Has someone probably already done this? Yes. Do I care? No. I’m autistic and can do what I want. Also, I spent a weird amount of time on this and want to share it to confirm once and for all.

So, the Kaminoans began creating the clone troopers about 10 years before the Clone Wars began. This means that by the start of the war, the oldest clones would be developmentally about 20, which makes a certain amount of sense. We also see the relative age clones are deployed, what with the Domino Squad, and they both look and act like people in their early 20s.

The war lasts for about three years, meaning the oldest clones were developmentally around 26 or so when the war ended, something that makes a certain degree of sense based on how the older clones act. They do seem a bit older than 26, acting and looking more like they are entering their 30s, but that could be due to the experiences of war drastically aging them in terms of maturity.

Rebels takes place 14 years after the war ends, but we only see the clones again in Season 2, 16 years after the war. If the clones do develop at twice the speed of humans, then the clones would have aged 32 years. Adding that by how old they were when the war ended, they would be developmentally 58.

The reason the clones appear to be older than this is likely due to their white hair. However, white/gray hair usually starts to appear during your mid-thirties, and many go full gray around 50. The clones would be developmentally almost 60, which is when plenty of people are fully gray. So it wouldn’t actually be all that unrealistic for them to be 58, and becomes more obvious when you actually take a good look at them and take into consideration their health and fitness levels.

While this isn’t actually any proof, I would also like to quickly mention how old the clones would be for the rest of the overall movie series. A New Hope takes place 19 years after the end of the Clone Wars, so the clones would have developed 38 years. Adding that by 26, it would have been 64 years for the clones. So the oldest clones would likely be developmentally 64 by the start of A New Hope. A New Hope takes place over the course of either a week or 3, which won’t affect my calculations that much.

According to a couple sources, The Empire Strikes Back takes place 3 years after A New Hope, so 22 years after the Clone Wars ended. The clones would have aged by 44 years, so they would be developmentally 70. The Empire Strikes Back likely takes place over the course of about a few months (mainly due to the Yoda training), so again, it still doesn’t affect my calculations that much.

Return of the Jedi takes place roughly a year after The Empire Strikes Back, and over the course of a week or so. The clones would have aged 2 years, so they would be developmentally 72 by the end of the 2nd trilogy. This means that a clone could have lived through both the Clone Wars and the reign of the Empire. They could have seen the Empire’s rise and its fall, depending on whether or not they died of old age. And chronologically speaking, they would only be 37.

Sadly (or perhaps luckily), they would not live to see the rise of the First Order, as that rose to power 30 years after the fall of the Empire, which would be 60 years for the clones. And that would make them developmentally 133, which is not likely.

But it’s still fascinating to me how the lifespan of a clone trooper works in the Star Wars universe. I’m currently writing up the outline of an AU about clone troopers, and I was thinking about this and how it affects them and their lives. IDK, just wanted to get all this math out of my system after doing Star Wars math for a couple of hours (for the AU).

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Parabellum 🪙 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine/John Wick AU

Set in an alternate universe where Top Gun is actually part of an underground assassins bureau in NYC

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Parings: Dagger Squad x Wick!reader (platonic/work relationship), John Wick x adoptive cousin!reader (platonic), The Bowery King (platonic), The Adjudicator (platonic) Zero + students (platonic)

Content Warnings: angst, profanity, banter, blood, violence, graphic depiction of injury, mentions of death and murder. AU set in the JW universe where Top Gun is a tactical assassination squad for The High Table. Set during JW: Chapter 3–Parabellum, but everyone is the age they were in TGM (so the year 2013 since all the movies are set within days of each other despite released years apart) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 8k

Premise: There are two rules everyone who works for the Table must follow: 1. No business on company grounds, 2. All Markers must be fulfilled. For John Wick, there are several debts he is owed as he battles against the whole world after breaking rule number one. And two of them fall under rule number two. John’s in for quite the treat when he heads to the Top Gun hangar to cash on of his debts from none other than his cousin, who happens to be the leader Top Gun’s infamous tactical assassin squad.

Note: Y’all I am so hype for John Wick Chapter 4. JW is one of my fav franchises and Keanu Reeves is my baby daddy 🥵 Maybe once Chapter 4 comes out I’ll do a part two to this since I have no idea what’s gonna happen to John and also if you’ve seen John Wick 3, do y’all think Winston is part of the BK’s plan or did he really betray John for his own selfish needs? like the Parent Trap imagine I did, I basically rewatched all the JW movies cause there was a marathon and got inspired. I really need to focus on my school work though cause I didn’t do so hot on my first writing assignment (it was research methods and my professor didn’t have the instructions very clear 😭) but I had to get this done and out first before taking a small few days of break to do my homework. — Bee 🐝

I do not own any of the characters from TGM or JW, this is for fictional purposes and entertainment. Read over CW before reading and reblogs , likes, and comments are welcomed but please do not steal or repost onto other platforms.

——————————

The phone was on the edge of breaking by how hard she was gripping it, cursing and flinching each time Halo strung a thread through her skin to seal the gaping wound that nearly sliced her face off. She couldn’t see out of her left eye and her lips were split in diagonal from the direction of the blade. Never had she experienced being cut by a katana in all her years of service….but there was always a first for everything.

“What do you want?” She winced again, glaring at the wall with hatred. While the Bowery King, who was experiencing his own hell with seven cuts to him, relayed to her the most recent update of their mutual ‘friend’, Y/n ‘Domino’ Wick thought back to the past last week. As much as she wanted to avoid it, she knew what was coming the second the message appeared on her phone: ‘John Wick—Excommunicado in effect in 1 hour. All services closed. Open Contract set at $14m.’

Seven Days Earlier….

The message was just sent out, everyone in the hangar appearing confused when the cell phones beeped at the same time causing them all to withdraw theirs from their pocket. Upon reading the words, multiple eyes turned to the woman seated at her desk. An opened bottle of whiskey was beside her, a stack of papers to be sorted through in a basket. She appeared emotionless as she read the message once before sliding the phone back in its place and storing it away.

“What’s up with Domino?” Omaha looked at Fanboy and Coyote when the woman rose from her chair before kicking it across the room and disappearing.

Fanboy shook his head, sighing in apparent distress, “You’ve heard of John Wick?” Of course he wasn’t talking about the fact his name was on the message they all got, he meant if Omaha knew who he was.”

“Only from stories. Ain’t he like the best there is.”

“The best and even more,” Coyote commented, already checking to make sure his gun was armed. “Man’s a beast. People call him the Boogeyman—or Baba Yaga to be more exact.”

“Anway,” Fanboy brought the attention back to him, noticing Domino called over Fritz, Rooster, Payback, and Hangman. They all were deep in discussion. “Domino and John were both orphans in Belarus, growing up together at the Ruska Roma.” Knowing what the Ruska Roma was combined with the fact Domino and John knew each other, Omaha made a face of shock. “They’re kinda like cousins—not sure if they are blood related, adoptive, or just grew close enough that they see each other as such. She doesn’t say a lot about her past, but before she became Domino her name was Y/n Wick. Now that Mav and Cyclone retired she’s been in service longer than any of us.”

“Just don’t ask questions, alright,” Coyote warned with a glance, “I know you’re new to the whole thing but keep quiet and you’ll live longer.”

If only Omaha had asked what John Wick looked like. Would’ve saved him a broken arm had he done so because when the poor guy went to do his surveillance, he was shocked to find a bloody man in their parking lot who immediately got in a tousle with when Omaha charged him.

The private hangar was located just a few miles from downtown at a very small private airstrip surrounded by a chain link electric fence, far enough and secluded that nobody in their right mind—unless of course, they were in need of service—migrated to. And unfortunately for Omaha he’d never seen John Wick before…so how was he supposed to know the intruder was the infamous assassin.

The two were going at it for a good three minutes until it ended with Omaha’s arm breaking and John’s belt around his neck. His air was constricted, the man fighting back against the hold in hopes of freeing himself. Before John could do the final twist to end Omaha for good, the sound of a gunshot followed by a speeding bullet against his face had John tripping back, releasing Omaha who took gasps of breath.

“That’s enough you two,” a stern voice said, multiple footsteps approaching. Looking up, John's eyes landed on his cousin flanked by members of her Dagger Squad on either side of her, guns trained on him as a warning for John to not make a sudden move. “We don't want things to get messy now do we?”

It had been years since the cousins had seen each other, well before John retired to marry Helen. They were roughly ten years apart in age, making Y/n around 40 now that John just turned 50. He was her mentor and protector during their time in the Ruska Roma, having been brought to the U.S from Belarus when John was 11 and Y/n was barely a year old. It’s unsure if they were even related but considering John looked after her like a family member people just assumed they were. Then when she got older she ditched her birth name and started going by Y/n Wick.

When John had heard several years before he retired that Y/n became a member of the Top Gun tactical execution squad, part of him felt he had failed her. Of course it was likely for her to join the underground world they were pretty much forced into by being a part of the Ruska Roma, but he hoped she’d not dive too deep. She was only 22 when she joined, becoming one of the best associates in the organization. Then just before he retired she was promoted to second in command, now four years later she was the leader after her predecessors decided to step down.

Looking at her now before him, he could tell Y/n had become the hardened contract killer she was destined to be. Reputation nearly rivaling that of his own. As a member of the Top Gun Tactical Dagger Squad Y/n earned the callsign ‘Domino,’ learning how to fly a plane due to the fact Top Gun provided services to associates by transporting them to and from locations. As highly skilled assassins the team are often hired by mobs, including the High Table when they don’t feel like sending their personal squads, to take out private contracts. Sometimes Y/n was directly offered contracts especially by those who wanted to keep their dirty work as hidden as possible.

Taking in the current Dagger Squad, John recognized most of them: Rooster, Payback, Fritz, Hangman, Coyote, Yale and Phoenix. When they last saw each other eight years before they’d all been recent recruits. Now they were molded killers. The other bunch were new faces—including the one he just broke the arm of. They had to have joined within the last several years. All wearing flight suits with their patches on the left breast, John read: Harvard, Bob, Fanboy, Halo, and lastly Omaha.

“You good, Omaha?” Y/n asked, not taking her gaze off of John. The man moaned in response.

“I think my arm is broken, boss.”

“Halo, Bob,” she simply said, the woman next to her and the man on the end dropping their guns to move over to the fallen man. When Halo walked off, Rooster took a step to the right so he was now directly next to Domino. On the opposite side to her left was Payback.

The two haul Omaha off, disappearing into the hangar. “Well,” Y/n puts her hands on her hips. “You sure know how to make an entrance. Hello, John.”

“Hello, Y/n.” She glared at the name, but made no move to correct it.

“Did you really have to break my guy’s arm?”

John gave a light shrug, putting his hand to his injured shoulder that was bleeding from a stab wound. “He came after me.”

Y/n gave an unhumorous laugh, shaking her head, “John, you got a fourteen million dollar bounty on your head. Can’t really blame him for trying—If I didn’t have a sense of why you’re here I’d give my crew the word and let them light you up before finishing you off myself.” It was harsh coming from a family member, but John couldn’t blame her. They’d been estranged for years now with their last encounters anything but friendly.

What John didn’t know though was Omaha had no idea what he looked like. Y/n was just trying to get under his skin.

“Go ahead and pull it out,” she challenged, eyes narrowing at the man. The squad kept their weapons raised, but relaxed their stance at her order.

Slowly John reaches into his jacket pocket, removing one of two Markers, making sure it was the right one before presenting it to the group. He saw the woman immediately stiffen, face tightening as the anger never left her eyes. In fact it looked like it increased by the sight of the object.

A debt she had to pay.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here, John. Some. Fucking. Nerve.”

“Y/n—.”

She cuts him off with a harsh tone, “You’re excommunicado, John. Services are now closed to you. As of five minutes ago that marker is void.” That last statement was actually on the fence.

There were two big rules in their world: 1. No business on company grounds. 2. All Markers must be fulfilled.

Given John broke rule #1 he was labeled excommunicado with the original contract of $7m by Santino D’Antonio doubled to $14m. Any and all services were now closed to him, even as simple as receiving medical treatment by a company doctor.

But what of the Markers?

John had two. One from Y/n and one from Sofia Al-Azwar, both given to John at different times, both where John had to transport and hide their children. In Y/n’s case she had gotten pregnant just shortly after leaving the Ruska Roma and was on her way to becoming a contract killer. She was barely 19 and in no way able to raise a child. So she called John and swore the blood oath to him that she would return the favor no matter the price or cost when the time came. Over 20 years later she still didn’t know what happened to her son. Sofia had originally come to Y/n to help her out when she needed to get her daughter away, but Y/n assured her John was better for the job, confessing he had done the same for her.

Would the Markers still have to be completed although he was banished and being hunted by the High Table? The same ones who order hits on those who don’t fulfill the Markers when presented by the person they owe? It was a tough situation.

It was Domino’s current situation.

John pleaded to her, opening the object to reveal her bloody fingerprint, “This is your blood. Your bond. When you needed help, Y/n, I was there. Now I need your help. You owe it to me, please.”

Y/n inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, “Top Gun works for the Table, John. We have been in service to them for decades. They will come for us—for me, for helping you.” In the corner of her eye she saw some of the crew stiffen, hands gripping their weapons tighter at the fear of facing the Table.

John gave her a look, “They will come for you if you don’t.” That had her nearly falter, seeing a look of angst overtake her.

“Some family you are, John. Bringing death to my door. Risking the lives of my team!” She couldn’t help but shout, no longer holding back her anger. All she could think about was the fact the Table likely already knew he was there. They had spies all over the city. Once he leaves they’ll be sending someone even if she didn’t help him. “What the fuck do you want anyway? What’s the favor you so desperately need after all these years that’s made you put me and my crew in danger.”

“My ticket,” he simply tells her, watching her face become ashen. “I know you still have it. I need it now, Y/n. That’s all I ask for.”

A long time ago John gave Y/n his ticket every orphan of the Ruska Roma receives upon ‘graduation’. A symbol of the favor the organization owes them after spending years under them. Y/n had cashed in on hers a long time ago, but John had her keep his safe. Believing he’d never have to use it.

It was kinda ironic when she started thinking about it.

“You could’ve had it all you know,” she dryly laughs, gazing hard at the man she saw as a cousin. “You got out—away from this. Tell me, Jordani, was it worth it?” She waits for a reply but it doesn’t come. Of course it wouldn’t. She could see it in his eyes it wasn’t. “What were you hoping to gain by hunting down the Tarasov punk? You should’ve fucking known it wouldn’t have ended once you finished the job. You opened the damn door, John. You gave Santino everything he needed to check in on his favor that you owed him. It honestly baffles me that you, John Wick, thought it was a good idea to give that man a marker. You’re reasoning? I'll never know.”

She has to pause to cool down a bit before continuing, “You could’ve asked anybody else to help you that night—you could’ve asked me, John. You had the marker all this time. Why the fuck didn’t you use it then?” She raises a hand as a signal for him to keep quiet all while ordering the squad to stand down. “Don’t answer that. I honestly don’t wanna know. It’s your fucking karma at the end of the day.” Again she gives a dry laugh, “I just find it hilarious honestly. The reason you’re in this shit show to begin with is because you owed Santino—which would’ve never happened if you didn’t let your impulses take over and go after Iosef Tarasov. You let some punk ass kid bring you back. A domino effect at its finest,” she has to laugh at her own joke, but nothing about it was funny. “Now here you are, cashing in on all the favors you’re owed. Me….The Director…I take it Sofia is next on your list?”

No answer. Y/n tightens her lips, nodding slowly, “I thought so. She’s over across the sea. You think she’s gonna just let you waltz in, John?” Y/n smirks, “but first you gotta survive getting out of New York. And unlike the other night when it was just the city after your ass, you got the whole world wanting a piece of you now. Fourteen million dollars,” she hums, tilting her head like she’s deep in thought. “Saying it out loud…it’s tempting.”

“Fifteen,” Fanboy says, making all eyes turn to him. “The contract just went up.” Y/n nods, turning back to John with a shrug.

“You hear that, John? I wonder who’s responsible for adding the bonus.”

“You’re not gonna kill me, Y/n,” he says unfazed, making her narrow her eyes a tad.

“And what makes you so confident I won't? Pretty bold of you to assume when you got ten guns on you.”

John tells her like it is, “Because you would’ve already done it by now.” He got her there. She would’ve given the signal the moment they surrounded him if she truly wanted him dead. And as much as Y/n was pissed off with John, he was the last person she had who she considered family. And she was indebted to him.

Hating the fact he was right, Y/n just nods, “Fair enough, John.”

“Look,” he holds up the Marker, “you do this for me and we’re done. You and I are even and the Table can’t fault you for following their rules.” His reasoning makes her scoff.

“You don’t really know if that’s true, John. But thanks for trying to lighten the situation,” she was being sarcastic, having had enough of the ordeal. “I’ll be sure to tell whoever they send exactly what you said. Maybe I'll live to see the next day.” They just stare at each other, letting the reality set in.

“Fritz,” the man beside Payback responds with a look at her, “bring me the blue book with gold trimming in the safe. The one on the top shelf—you know the one.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he holsters his gun and walks toward the hangar.

“Coyote, go get the keys for the Ducati Diavel,” when he goes Y/n then calls to the woman beside Rooster, “and Phoenix, grab me a 9mm from one of the units.”

“On it.”

“Fanboy, and Harvard,” the two snap to attention awaiting orders, “Go check on Halo and Bob, see if they need help dealing with Omaha and call the Continental doctor if need be.” She sees John falter at the mention of the doctor, remembering he was just there and had to shoot him in a non-fatal area on the docs insistent to cover for the face he helped John. “Actually scratch that…take him to the urgent care that’s off the road past the gate. Tell them Domino sent you.”

“Yes ma’am,” they both say and head out, leaving Payback, Yale, Hangman and Rooster on either side of Y/n, the woman standing in the middle between the four.

“What are you doing?” John asks.

“Paying my debt,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Ensuring the bargain has been fulfilled. You may have given me the impression all you want is your ticket, but I know you were hoping for something a little more. Consider it done.”

John shakes his head with a frown, “I wasn’t gonna—.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” she tightens her lips. “Sure you weren’t. How the hell else are you gonna get to The Director from all the way out here with nothing but a belt to defend you, John? I’m surprised you even managed to make it here within the hour.” Holding out her hand, Phoenix places the 9mm in the open palm. At that moment Coyote pulls up the motorcycle, keeping the keys in the ignition when he puts it on its stand. Then Fritz arrives with the book, handing it over to Y/n’s other open palm.

Approaching John, Y/n extends both hands to pass the gun and book to him. He holsters the gun first then opens the book to remove the fake page revealing the compartment with his ticket, aka the rosary, and a wad of gold coins. He pockets both the rosary and coins, before handing back the book and Y/n holds it out for Fritz to take back.

“You’re going to war, John,” she watches him open the Marker, pricking his thumb on the needle before placing his bloody fingerprint onto the open space beside her own. “With the whole damn world. Even if you make it to where you’re going…it won't end there. This is only the beginning.”

“I know,” he sighs, handing her the now complete Marker. “Consequences.” She gives a tight smile, fingers encasing around the object.

“Consequences. You should’ve thought about those before blowing a hole into Santino’s head. Would’ve saved you all the trouble.” He doesn’t react with the exception of a curt nod, knowing she was right. But he made his bed, now he has to lie in it. “Goodbye, John.”

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

They all watch as he mounts the bike and takes off into the darkness, becoming smaller with each minute until finally he’s out of their sights. Finally Y/n lets out the breath she had been holding, angry tears stinging her eyes that she refuses to let the team see. They’d never seen her scared before, she wasn’t gonna let them see now. Even though they had every right to be just as scared.

Gathering herself, she cranks her neck to the sky and closes her eyes for a brief moment before turning back to the remaining Squad members, the one who were coming up on ten years whereas all the others she sent away were only a couple years in. “Prepare the bunker,” she watched all their eyes widen, glancing at each other hesitantly.

“Are you sure, Dom?” Rooster questions, looking a bit unease. They hadn’t used the bunker in so long, it was gonna take time to prepare it. Not even the Table knew about it. Top Gun predecessors from when the underground crime world started built it for caution in case they were to have troubles with the Table. It was basically a whole level floor underneath the hangar equipped with everything they needed from food, water, bedding, clothing, and of course weapons and arsenal. They could survive weeks underground and no one would know. They had security surrounding the premises that they could access from below ground.

Domino was confident the Table had already been tipped off by an associate. They were gonna have to act quick.

“Very,” she walked a few steps, stopping so she was directly in front of the group. “Expect us to have company when the sun rises—maybe in a few days if we’re lucky. I’ll deal with the Table,” she assures, looking them each in the eyes. “When that happens I need you all to be in the bunker where you’re safe. And you will not come out until they have left the premises—regardless of what happens to me.” Immediately there were sounds of protest.

“Dom, that’s suicide,” Rooster states the obvious. Phoenix pitches in, “You’re not serious, boss.”

“There’s no way in hell we’re leaving you alone with them,” Hangman voices, going as far as taking a step closer to the woman. Fritz and Yale back him up while Payback comments, “You don’t even know if they’re coming.”

“I didn't ask for your input. From any of you,” she shuts them up. Rubbing a hand over her face, Y/n gives a tired sigh. “You don’t think I don’t know what they’re capable of? I have been in this life longer than any of you—I’ve seen everything you can imagine when it comes to the business we’re in. Or at least I thought until John Wick decided to cause hell two weeks ago,” she mutters the last part under breath. No one could’ve predicted that when John exterminated the Tarasov crime family that he’d be the Table’s #1 target. Where the rules were no longer black and white.

“My point is,” she calms down the raging thoughts in her head. “I’m the one who helped him. They are gonna come after me, but that doesn’t mean you all have to be in the crossfire. If they see you here, even if you’re not doing anything, they’ll kill you,” her tone turns harsher, to get it through their heads the seriousness of it. “I don’t want any of you going against the Table, not when I’m gonna need you all if I survive the meeting.”

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Yale is the one to ask the question.

“I don’t know,” she speaks truthfully. “But if John is going where I think he is…then tonight was just the beginning.”

Seven Days Later….

She honestly expected them earlier. Rumors spread in the days after John’s excommunication. An Adjudicator of the Table visiting those who assisted him. At the Ruska Roma, the Director had her hands sliced through with her entourage slaughtered just the day after John cashed in his ticket. Then the Bowery King was set to pay a price for refusing to step down after a warning of seven days to get his affairs in order. Many of his men dead within minutes. That morning he received seven cuts for the seven bullets he gave John the night he executed Santino, and was left for dead. Was he alive? Y/n wasn’t even sure. All she knew was Winston had until nightfall to step down from the Continental before they paid him a visit.

Right now though, in the early evening of the seventh day, Y/n sat in her chair in the middle of the hangar. Around her were Zero’s students, the man himself closest to her while the Adjudicator stood before her. Unbeknownst to the group the team of assassins they expected to have seen were down below watching the scene unfold through the monitors mounted on the concrete wall. They’d been underground for the whole week, Y/n not risking them being out in the open when she knew the Table would arrive at some point.

After the first day she was confident it was to spook her. Especially after discovering the Director was punished for her role in transporting John across the Atlantic. Yes, they were trying to scare her alright. They damn well knew she aided John Wick. They were just waiting for the right time to make their presence known.

“Where is the Dagger Squad, Domino?” The Adjudicator paced in front of her, eyes drifting over the empty hangar. It was too quiet for her liking.

“On a mission.”

“There were no recent contracts from my knowledge for your department. When did this happen?” She pressed, turning to the assassin. Y/n could tell she was examining her body language, hoping to catch her in a lie.

“A private one came in this morning. I sent them off just before you arrived.”

“From?”

“The Triads,” she answered confidently.

“Where to?”

“Out west. They requested the location to be confidential. You understand, right?”

The Adjudicator nodded slowly, not really sure if she believed the woman, but kept her gaze focused. Two planes were moved to make it look like they were gone. Domino hoped they would take the bait.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“I have my suspicions,” Y/n replied, remaining calm and unthreatening. “It wasn’t hard to guess after whispers coming in from the city.” It was obvious she was referring to the Bowery King and Director.

“And do you have anything to say for yourself about why you broke the rules and aided John Wick in his escape from New York? I am well aware of your personal history with him.”

Y/n willed herself not to react to the last comment, focusing on the question. “I owed him a debt. Which you already know—it’s why you’re here. Maybe you can tell everyone at HQ to add more details on the fine print of what to do when the bearer of your Marker breaks the rules. As far as I’m concerned,” she dares to shrug, “I followed them.”

“So you have a point,” the tattooed woman gives a tight expression, not liking her attitude. “You may have upheld the rule of the Table but that doesn’t mean you didn't do more than what you had to. Especially due to the personal connection involved. John Wick was seen coming to this location on foot and leaving twenty minutes later on a motorcycle.”

Y/n tilts her head, now looking bored. “What are you getting at? That’s part of what he wanted.”

“Tell me what all he wanted, Domino, in order for the debt to be paid.”

Y/n kept eye contact, the two almost in a staring contest with neither wanting to blink as she listed off what all she provided. “The book containing his ticket, coins, and a 9mm that he had me store ages ago for ‘emergencies,’ and a mode of transportation.”

“You didn’t offer one of your pilots to escort him to Morocco?”

“He didn’t indicate Morocco was where he wanted to go,” she fired back. Now she was playing dumb. Of course she knew he was heading there since Sofia was now the manager of the Moroccan Continental. “He just wanted those things and then said he’d be on his way. And because I didn’t know if the Marker was invalid given his status, I delivered with his request. Fulfilling the Marker because that is your rule.”

The Adjudicator takes a moment to think before placing her hands behind her back. “I may not have proof you acted against the Table, Domino, but rest assured we will find out if you did. Until then, I will leave you with a warning of what is to come when that happens.”

Y/n’s heart kicks in pace, stiffening when Zero comes to stand in front of her. Before she could react a searing pain erupted in her face, head snapping to the side by the force causing the woman to fall from her chair. “GAHHH!!” She audibly reacted as she landed on the ground, hands going straight to her face only to be drenched in the blood pouring from the gaping cut. She couldn’t even open her left eye, her right one watery causing her vision to be blurry. Looking up she saw Zero wiping his katana with his sleeve.

He fucking sliced her face.

The iron taste in her mouth was due to the fact her lips were split. It was a diagonal direction of the blade against skin, going from the edge of her right jaw all the way to her left temple—completely cutting her lips and slicing her eye. Speaking of her eye it was on fire, figuratively speaking. Glancing around she silently thanked the fact her eyeball wasn’t staring back at her meaning it was still in its socket. But judging from the pain and the fact when she tried to open it she was met with darkness indicated the eye was long gone.

Underground, members of the Dagger Squad had to refrain from getting into the elevator and rush in guns blazing. They were given orders, and if the Adjudicator did not report back to the Table they would know something happened and send their full force against them.

“She’s alive,” Rooster said in relief when Y/n moved, them all watching her hands go to her face. Phoenix changed the camera to a different angle and they saw the full extent of her injury. Everyone grimaced, some cursing at the sight of Domino’s bloodied face. It was literally sliced at an angle.

“Fuck,” Fanboy muttered, Halo already moving to gather medical supplies.

“She said to wait until they were gone,” Payback reminded them when a few started to move to the elevator. The Adjudicator, Zero, and his students had just left the hangar, but had yet to be fully off the premises. On the monitor it showed Y/n stumbling as she tried to locate the closet with towels and supplies. Blood trailed after her, leaving a line in its wake. It wasn’t until the cars passed the gate and were well off into the city that the squad rushed to the elevator.

“Domino!” Y/n heard someone shout, mind a bit hazy from the blood loss and beginning to feel numb.

“I got you, boss,” Fritz picked her up bridal style and rushed her to the makeshift medical room with Halo and Bob running behind him. Placing her on the bed they got to work. Halo started an IV while Bob did his best to apply pressure on the wound.

“She’s gonna need blood,” Bob said, cursing by the amount she was losing. “Who here shares her blood type?”

“Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote,” Halo lists off, grabbing the syringe with a light sedative to help Y/n with the pain.

“We’re gonna need all three then. Fritz, can you—.”

“Already on it,” he doesn’t let him finish the sentence, yelling out their names who all appear within seconds. With Harvard the two begin setting up to remove a pint of blood from each.

“You with us, Dom?” Halo takes a light to shine in each of her eyes, apologizing when Y/n moans when her left eye is touched.

“As best as I can be. Just do what you have to do. If I die, I die.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Bob tells her. “You’re gonna be fine, Dom.”

For a good couple hours they were working on repairing the wound. Y/n was a little dozy from the drugs, but managed to stay away during the whole thing. When it came time for the stitches, Halo was about halfway done when Rooster came in with Y/n’s phone. “It’s the Bowery King.”

“Help me up please,” she motioned for them to help her sit up, Halo careful with the sting and needle in her hands. Bob and Fritz pulled to an upright position before she asked for the phone. Rooster handed it over, moving to stand with Phoenix and Payback against the wall. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Y/n placed the phone to ear. “What do you want?”

She received a chuckle, “You sound as bad as I feel.”

“Just fucking get to it. I can’t move my mouth without wanting to scream so let me hear what you have to say and let us be done with it.”

“Have you heard the latest on Mr Wick?”

“He’s the reason Berreda lost his balls.” She received another chuckle.

“Well our friend is stateside again. Lucky bastard cut a deal with the one who sits above the Table.”

Y/n stilled, blood running cold. “He found the Elder.” Those in the room who knew what she spoke of shared the same reaction.

“He did,” the King muses. “And the deal for him to remain breathing is to be forever bound to the Table. The first on his list of bidding is Winston.”

Y/n had to pull the phone away for a moment, in disbelief at the news. She almost wanted to laugh at how things seemed to turn out for John. “He’ll never do it. Winston knows how to manipulate him to get what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to betray him in the end.”

“I’m happy you and I are on the same page. I was thinking the same exact thing���which is why when the time comes, I’ll be there to pick John up.”

Right as he finishes his sentence all the phones beep, those in the room removing theirs to see the text. Domino looked at her own phone, shaking her head when she read: “The New York Continental status has been changed to Deconsecrated. In effect in thirty minutes.”

“Would you look at that,” the Kind hummed. “Just what I expected. I give it til dawn before they get tired.”

Y/n was starting to get annoyed, wanting him to cut to the chase. “So why are you calling me now?”

“Because I want us to be a step ahead of them, Domino.”

Y/n takes a moment before saying, “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been doing some thinking over the past week—and after this morning these cuts have sealed the deal,” he laughed at his own irony. “All this High Table bullshit….under the Table is where shit gets done and you know it. All of us are pawns in their game. I say it’s time we dethrone them once and for all.”

Y/n straightens her posture, processing what the King was implying. “You’re asking for war.” She noticed her team visibly reacting to the statement. “You’re wanting to go to war with the Table.”

“Quite so.”

“And you want me and my team to help you.” There was no need to say it like a question.

“Just think about it,” he tells her. “Wait the night out or wait for my call. We’ll discuss more then.” Before she could reply the constant beep filled her ears signaling he had hung up. Sliding the phone in place, Y/n stared ahead, this time not even flinching as Halo worked on her.

It was quiet for the remainder of the hour, the beeping of phones signifying the deconsecration of the Continental was in effect. When Halo cut the last bit of thread on Y/n, the woman downed the painkillers and gulped the water bottle in seconds.

“You’re all dismissed. Stay close to the hangar—I don’t trust that they’re not lurking by the gates.” When they all left she changed into a fully black outfit, ending with a leather trench coat. Then she shuffled through one of the cabinets to find an eyepatch, which was a fucking sight when she put it on.

“I look like that dude from those comics Fanboy reads,” she announced when she walked into the area everyone was in, many of them stopping what they were doing. Phoenix, Bob, and Payback were cleaning the blood off the floors while Hangman and Fritz watched the monitors. Halo was checking over Omaha. Yale, Harvard, and Coyote were going through inventory and finally Rooster and Fanboy had finished up calls with potential clients. All eyes turned to Domino, Fanboy having to hold back his comment of saying, “Nick Fury,” though he did have a small smile on his face.

“How you feeling, boss?” Payback questioned, taking a seat on a chair after discarding the bloody water from when he mopped the floors. His answer was a groan, followed by her saying, “Like I should’ve let y’all shoot John Wick and spare me from becoming a raggedy Ann doll.”

Falling into a chair, Y/n thanked the glass of whiskey from Fritz and accepted a cigarette, leaning forward to light it when he offered the lighter flame. Checking the time on the wall, it was approaching midnight. God did she blackout or something? Where the hell did the time go? By now the Continental was likely a graveyard.

“I’m sorry about this week guys,” she said softly, letting the smoke leave her lips, wincing from the sting as the stitches keeping them together served as a reminder of what happened. “I should’ve told you all about the Marker ages ago.”

“It wasn’t our business, Dom,” Hangman pulls up a stool, setting himself on it once it appeared the coast was clear. “Those things are between those involved.”

“Yeah,” Coyote pitched in. “None of us blame you. We probably would’ve done the same. We just hate that you were punished for upholding the deal.”

“It’s not completing the Marker they were upset about,” she taps the cigarette against the ashtray. “Had I not, it would’ve given them the excuse to kill me even though there is no official rule about Markers and those who bear one that are excommunicated. It was the fact they know I did more than what was needed. I could’ve just given John the ticket and sent him off, but instead I willingly armed him with the means to have better odds. That’s why they’re pissed.”

“But they have no proof,” Harvard said from the side. “How would they know you did?”

“They know our history,” she simply sighed. “That’s enough for them to have suspicion. Whether the Adjudicator did it on her own accords or the Table ordered her to give me a good warning that they’re onto me…what’s done is done.” She finished her cigarette, “Now we figure out how to keep them off our backs.”

Several of the daggers looked at each other, wondering how to ask the question they all wanted to know since her phone call. Rooster is the one to speak up, “What about the Bowery King?”

“What about him, Rooster?”

“He’s wanting war with the High Table,” he crosses his arms, ignoring the looks from those who were not present when Domino was on the phone. They appeared surprised, and a little uneasy.

“He’s out of his damn mind,” she told him harshly, trying to not show she was tempted at stepping down from her position to join the mission. Hatred at the Table was rising in her, the King making a fair point at how everything gets done under the Table but they get to reek the benefits of what they do.

Y/n wanted to fight back, she really did. But she wasn’t gonna take her team down with her. They still had lives and going against the Table would not be easy. If she were to take the Bowery King up on his offer she would do it alone and spare them all.

“You know he’s right,” Halo pitches in, surprising the woman. Then she remembered Halo was right next to her and probably heard the entire conversation. “Everyone of us, those in service and in management, are just pawns for the Table and those who sit above it. We’re the ones who keep this business alive while they get to sit back and relax.”

Catching onto that Halo was leaking what the Bowery King told Domino, Phoenix stands from her chair. “You’ve been in service longer than all of us, Domino. You said it yourself. Haven’t you realized things are starting to get out of hand? I mean look!” She gestures to Y/n’s face, “You followed their rules and they nearly took half your face off. Who gives a fuck if you did more than what you had to—John Wick is your family. How could they not expect you to want to help him?”

The others voice agreement, Fritz nudging Y/n lightly with his arm, “It’s not fair, Dom. It hasn’t been fair in years. I say we should do it.” He specifies when she gives a confused look, “Join the Bowery King.”

“No,” she shakes her head immediately, “No—if anyone is going against the Table, it’s gonna be me. I’ll step down and you guys continue what we’ve done here for decades. I will not have you all die because of my cousin's mess.”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Hangman politely grabbed her attention. “It’s not up to you. Even if you step down, we still can join him if we please. So why not do it together. Because we’re not letting you go alone.” Everyone agrees with murmurs and nods, causing Y/n to drop her head between her shoulders.

“We’re talking war. Against the High Table—not some single crime syndicate we’ve dealt with before, this is all twelve seat holders, the Elder, and all their subordinates. Which we—,” she gestures to all of them, “we are those subordinates. This goes past New York…it’s the whole fucking world.”

“We know,” Payback says with confidence. “We know the risk, Dom. We’re willing to take it.”

Y/n connects her gaze with each member, seeing the determination in their eyes causing an emotion she couldn’t describe to swarm through her. What she didn’t know was they each were on board the second Rooster and Halo revealed the Bowery King’s offer. Seeing their friend and comrade nearly die by following the rules they all swore to obey ignited a fire in them. They were after revenge. Who’s to say the Table wouldn’t come after them in the future. Better to stop them now before that could happen.

The assassin was having trouble grasping it all. This was her family. The people she trusted most in the world. John was once that person, and right now he has a lot to do to gain it back, but if he joins the cause then they could be unstoppable. And from what the King told her, he was confident by dawn John would be involved.

“Okay,” she says softly. “We do this as a team. The same way we’ve always done. But no one—,” she lifts a finger to emphasize her point, “no one steps out of line or goes rogue because an opportunity arises. We have to play this safe. We need to be tactical in our approach. Even if it takes weeks, months, hell, even a year or more before we see some action, then we will be patient. The Bowery King, John, maybe even Winston if the old man doesn't become a snake, all of us know the best thing to do is hit the Table when they are at their most vulnerable. When that happens….it will break before our eyes.”

Seven Hours Later….

John looked lifeless as he laid on the cold ground. Who could blame him really after he fell over ten stories while hitting obstacles that broke his fall. Not even five minutes after he landed a white van pulled up in the narrow alley, Harvard and Yale hopping out from the back to drag the man into the vehicle. Before they could close the doors a gray pit bull jumped in, licking John’s face. Recognizing the dog as the one Y/n warned them about, they shut the doors and yelled for Coyote to start driving.

When they got to meet up point, John was handed off to one of the Bowery King’s surviving men, wheeling John into the underground tunnel they had all taken up camp. Coyote ditched the van with all three sneaking into the tunnel, careful for prying eyes. Once in the tunnel they got to work with half of the Daggers while the other half accompanied Domino where the King was located. Like the Top Gun boss, the King had stitches on his face and neck. His cuts were smaller than the one she received, but enough to do damage.

“How you doing, John?” He asked from his throne. John’s dog made himself comfortable on the couch. Off to the side, barely seen with the limited light stood Rooster, Hangman, Payback, Fritz, and Phoenix. “You look as bad as I feel,” he started to laugh the same way he did over the phone, setting down his orange soda, “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Raise a hand if you can hear me, John.”

With a tremor, John lifted his left hand to raise his index and middle fingers, making the King go, “Oh shit. They took a finger. Ain’t that a bitch?” His laugh increased in volume when John maneuvered the hand to show only his middle finger. The rumble of his chest from laughing made the King groan from the pain of his injuries there.

“Oh John. Fucking. Wick. So, the old boy keeps his hotel and you take the fall. Can’t say I blame him I would’ve done the same thing if I was in his shoes,” he pauses to inhale as he moves to stand from his throne, “But this High Table shit. Seven cuts. You should see what they did to your cousin. In fact, she’s right here.” A cane is in his hands when he begins to move closer to John.

The heels of Y/n’s boots echo, the light hitting her stitched face when she comes to stand beside the King. “Damn,” she mutters with a grimace. “That fall sure did a number on you, Johnny boy.” John doesn’t look at her, he keeps his head down the entire time. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here? I was hoping to be rid of ya after last week. Funny how fate works.”

The Bowery King chuckles, focusing back on John. “Under the table is where shit gets done. And they about to find out if you cut a king, you better cut him to the quick. So,” he lowers himself to the ground, holding onto his cane. “Let me ask you, John, how you feel?” John pants, face still hidden by his raggedy hair. The King speaks with menace, “‘Cause I am really. Pissed. Off. Are you pissed off, Dom?”

Y/n crouches down, elbows resting on her hips as her one eye stares down on her bloodied cousin. Her tone is the same as the King’s, “I’m really fucking pissed off. You pissed, John?”

“Hmm?” The King awaits his answer, hands shaking from how angry he was. “Are you?”

The fallen man finally starts to move, the two watching closely as he holds himself up on his hands. When he turns to face them, they finally see his bruised face, but they are more drawn to his eyes. He’s absolutely pissed the fuck off.

“Yeah.”

………………

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @poppyalice2001, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black

[blackkatmagic]

im just here to say its really delightful to see you having such a blast writing the dead tree, i genuinely can hardly keep up 🥰. the way you write granta kind of reminds me of maul in how they deeply desire personal relationships (if to destructive point) but in opposite directions in that maul canonically offers apprenticeships and blood vendettas to all six people he can offer whereas granta can hardly imagine anyone putting up with him without even a tenuous familial tie, and its really sweet that he was so wholehearted in wanting to take in domino and jax (and tup). granta's fondness for all of the clones like, as a people, was very touching given their shared circumstances and the kindness offered by the ones he met. im also glad he may have spent his time as a lab rat reassessing his priorities in life but he absolutely spent none of it in reflection of his parents and how they. might not have been great to him. he came out with a fresh view on life but it clearly was not at all a theraputive retreat for him and he still has baggage and biases that give him blind spots to other peoples behaviors and the miscommunication between him and domino squad comes out really believable and compelling!

Anon I want you to know this ask threw me into a manic spiral of trying to piece together a Maul/Granta plot that wouldn't end with seven trillion dead and 1000+ worlds on fire and now I have ANOTHER wip that's lodged itself firmly in my brain. :')

[archivistofnerddom]

How the Batch responds to someone who denigrates the color pink in front of them

And God forbid if this happens when Omega is figuring out her personal style, preferences, and fashion sense.

The Batch would certainly not ascribe to the belief that pink is for girls and blue is for boys. They make it their personal mission to prove that that’s nonsense.

Hunter

Guess who found pink-handled knives? And guess who will always at least two strapped to his belt at all times?

Rambo Barbie over here has traded out his usual bandana for a bright pink one. He’s wearing it with absolute and complete unfazed confidence. Giggle about it at your own risk and peril.

Just in case the knives and bandana were a little too subtle, he makes a point of wearing pink (possibly flannel) shirts regularly. Said shirts run the full spectrum of pink, but that’s fine. He thinks he looks good in the color.

He will absolutely look anyone who goes off about the pink/blue gendered thing dead in the eye and just go, “No.” That usually stops the BS in its tracks.

Crosshair

This man knows he looks good in black. That doesn’t stop him from having pink be his new go-to highlight color. All of the little accessories and details on his armor and helmet are now a lovely share of pink.

When his hair starts coming back in, he starts coloring to a nice light pink (blush) color. Just don’t mistake the pink hair for friendliness though. He’s still a snarky bastard.

His Firepuncher gets a makeover too. Crosshair enjoys taking people out with a neon pink sniper rifle. (It sets a very specific, very petty tone — and he’s here for it.)

He will also intentionally be a little shit and set people up to get verbally knocked down a peg or three. Tech has roughly five versions of the same speech about how assigned gendering colors is an outdated concept. Crosshair is going to do his twin a solid and let him loose on idiots. (He enjoys watching the chaos and panic that unfolds.)

Tech

Like I said, he will give a full lecture about the fallacy of “Pink is for girls, and blue is for boys.” Oh, did you want to see slides to go along with that? Here, he’s got those too.

Tech shows up with pink-framed goggles, a pink-cased data pad, and pink embroidery on all his pockets and pouches within 24 hours. For him, fashion is functional first, but it can also be fun and make a statement.

Did you say give the Marauder a new paint job? Why yes, it is time that it got a new look. Thank you so much for suggesting that. (And yes, Wrecker helped with the paint job and redesign. They both did such a good job.)

Tech also knows how to recalibrate his blasters so that his blaster bolts and stun rays are pink. He can show you how he did, if you ask him nicely.

Wrecker

This man comes in one setting — loud and enthusiastic support. And the best way to do that? Head-to-toe neon pink At All Times. (Seriously, this man shows up with completely pink armor and a helmet and just continues to do his normal job without commenting on his new paint job.)

Lula gets a wardrobe upgrade too. She’s now for a very cool pink jacket that Wrecker made for her himself.

Wrecker will loudly and eagerly proclaim that pink is his absolute favorite color anytime he hears a person talking shit about the color. He isn’t putting on a front either. He does love the color pink.

Guess who has pink smoke grenades and pink glitter bombs in his pack at all time? Wrecker. Why? Well, why not!?!?!

Echo

Bright pink kama for life! No, he will accept no questions or suggestions to the otherwise. His kama is pink, and he looks fabulous.

Echo may be a part of the Bad Batch now, but he was part of the 501st and Domino Squad before that. If you give him just the slightest scrap of an idea, he’ll run with it in a way that would make Fives proud . . . which is why so many people wind up covered in a violently pink glitter-and-glue mixture when they say stupid shit. (Wrecker may have helped.)

He gets Tech to upgrade his scomp to be metallic pink.

Grumpy Disappointed Mom Face gets deployed with great effect. Echo isn’t mad that you’re spouting nonsense. He had just hoped you didn’t buy into the nonsense that only girls can like pink.

Omega

Omega colors the tips of her hair to be bright pink. It’s actually a whole family project, especially in deciding which shade of pink would look best on her. She also used this as an opportunity to try some new hair styles to show off her color makeover.

She also got Tech to readjust her bow so that it too fires pink bolts. (They’re gleeful menaces on the battlefield together.)

Leaning into pink helps Omega connect with her femininity. For as much as she loves her brothers, that’s one area where they aren’t the best role models (even if they fully support her during this journey). She is the one who helped her brothers incorporate pink into their current wardrobe.

Omega also learns how to give manicures. The only polish choice anyone she gives one to gets to make is whether or not they want glitter. Everyone is going to be rocking pink nails when she gives them a manicure. (The Batch are very diligent and serious about maintaining their manicures.)