#moving into Cadet Bad Batch for the week

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

These Scars Remain

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 6 | Prompt: Battle Scars

Summary: "Did I ever tell you what Tech did when I got my first big scar?" POV: Wrecker (Word Count: 3131)

Read on Ao3

Notes: I touched on a few of the concepts here in one of my other works that I wrote up while imagining how the months between episodes 2.16 and 3.02 had gone for Hunter, Wrecker and Echo. And recently I've been thinking a lot about how Wrecker might have gotten the huge scar on his face. And then I saw this week's prompt. This is the result.

            “Wrecker.”

            Pain. So much pain.

            “Wrecker!”

            Blinding… burning… pain… ringing… agony… so dark…

            “Wrecker! Wake up!”

            Stabbing… crushing… why wouldn’t the pain stop… just make it stop…

            “WRECKER!”

            That voice… he knew that voice… who… Tech, why was Tech yelling at him? Why was the ground shaking…?

            Wrecker came to with a groan. He wanted to move, find his way to more solid ground so he would stop shaking – maybe he wouldn’t hurt as much if he wasn’t shaking – but the only part of his body he could manage to move for himself was his eyelids.

            The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Tech’s goggles, which were currently taking up most of his field of vision – a field of vision that was narrower than usual… Wrecker blinked, what was wrong with his left eye?

            Then he realized the ground had stopped moving… No, Tech had stopped shaking him. Why had Tech been shaking him…? Had he been asleep? Were they late for a battle simulation or…?

            Suddenly Wrecker remembered: the squad was in their third and final week of completing individual field tests, tests that would determine whether each member of the squad was prepared to progress to the final months of advanced training. Hunter and Crosshair were currently in a different room, Wrecker didn’t yet know what tests had been assigned to those two today. Wrecker and Tech had been shuffled into another area, with Tech being assigned target drills with the blasters in one corner of the long training room, and Wrecker being given the task of disarming a bomb at the other end of the room.

            He had thought it would be a smoke bomb or something similar, he had been told as much – at least, he thought that’s what he had been told by the trainers before they left to watch the proceedings from the observation room. Wrecker still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but he was starting to think that definitely had not been a smoke bomb…

            But it didn’t really matter what kind of bomb it had been; he should have been able to disarm it. All the regular cadets had to prove themselves to a certain standard; Wrecker knew full well that his squad of 99s had to prove themselves to be not just on par with the regs, but superior.

            Now, Wrecker couldn’t help but recall that how quickly a cadet recovered from injury during training often played a role in determining whether said cadet was decommissioned or not. And… well, Wrecker knew he had definitely been injured.

            That, on top of having clearly failed the test…

            He didn’t know if retakes were allowed with these exams – he had never asked. None of his squad had needed to.

            “Wrecker! Can you hear me?” Tech may have stopped shaking him, but his anxious voice persisted in calling Wrecker’s name, and Wrecker realized he had spent the last few seconds of reverie staring in a silent daze.

            “Y… Yeah, Tech, I can hear you,” Wrecker replied. His words sounded muffled, garbled to his ears. It hurt so much to talk, but he tried to keep talking anyway, more to reassure Tech than anything else. “Guess I…”

            Tech suddenly disappeared from Wrecker’s line of sight, replaced by a medical droid. “The stimulant worked, CT-9903 has regained consciousness,” Wrecker heard the droid report, before he felt himself being lifted onto a gurney.

            Oh. He was going to be taken to the medical wing. That was fine… just, he didn’t really like going to the medical wing, he didn’t like all the tests that involved being poked and prodded and scanned, and he definitely didn’t like being there alone…

            “CT-9902, where are you going?” the gruff voice of Gibli Ecto, their trainer, sounded somewhere behind Wrecker.

            “I’m going with my brother to the medical wing. I want to stay with him,” Wrecker heard Tech reply.

            “He’ll be just fine on his own. You need to finish your exam. You weren’t supposed to leave your testing station in the first place,” Ecto returned in a tone of finality.     

            “I already passed the test,” Tech replied.

            “Excuse me?”

            Tech’s voice was fading as Wrecker was carried further away, and Wrecker strained to hear his brother’s frank explanation: “Of the 150 targets on the exam, I have already accurately hit the first 136 of them, yielding an average 90.6% hit rate. Even if I miss the last fourteen targets, I’ve already exceeded the target rate required for passing at this point in my training. I don’t need to complete the remainder of the test. I want to accompany CT-9903 to the medical wing.”

            “CT-9902, your insubordination is grounds for disciplinary action…”

            “Let him go, Ecto,” one of the other trainers sighed – Wrecker couldn’t tell who was speaking now, maybe Timbria? “He’s right, he already passed. And these are special circumstances. CT-9902, you’re dismissed.”

            “Yes, sir;” and Wrecker heard hurried footsteps catch up to him before his gurney was carried through the test room doors.

            “I’m here, Wrecker,” Tech said matter-of-factly, placing a hand briefly on Wrecker’s right shoulder to reinforce the fact of his presence. “I’ll stay with you during the medical tests.”

            “Thanks, Tech,” Wrecker said weakly. It still hurt to talk, still hurt to breathe, still hurt to think – and Wrecker found himself succumbing to unconsciousness again.

---

            “Oh good, you’re awake,” was the first sound to greet Wrecker’s right ear.

            “What… what happened?” Wrecker said bemusedly, staring around at the sterile and well-lit room, registering the fact that the left side of his face and head was heavily wrapped in bandages; and the events of the day rapidly caught up to him even before Tech spoke again.

            “You were unsuccessful in disarming the bomb,” Tech started.

            “Yeah, and it blew up in my face. Got it,” Wrecker said, trying to ignore the sick feeling that was developing anew in the pit of his stomach. He was grateful it had been an individual rather than a group exam, that none of his brothers had been nearby when the bomb had gone off, but… What would happen to him for failing his first explosives test? He had heard rumors of other cadets being decommissioned for far less. “I mean, what happened after I passed out again?”

            “You’ve only been unconscious for half an hour, but that was ample time for the medical droids to see to your wounds,” Tech said conversationally, before his tone turned more somber and he seemed reluctant to continue. “Based on what they were saying amongst themselves, I don’t think you’ll regain function of your left eye or ear.”

            “You mean… I won’t be able to see or hear on that side again?”

            “That is correct.”

            Wrecker tried to shrug – oh, it hurt to shrug. And it hurt to grimace from the pain of shrugging. Even thinking still hurt. But none of that mattered. So long as they let him retake the test, he’d learn to live with the pain, just like he’d learn to live partially blind and deaf. He was going to be a soldier and stay with his squad, no matter what. “Guess it’s a good thing I have backups. One ear and eye’s enough. I can still crush droids.”

            Ever since the first wave of graduates had been shipped out a few months ago to officially serve in the Galactic Army of the Republic and fight in the new war, cadets had been informed that they would primarily be facing battle droids, and battle simulations had shifted to reflect this. Barreling through droids had become one of Wrecker’s favorite things to do, and just thinking about it now would have been enough to make him smile – if it didn’t hurt so much to move his face.

            Tech smiled at Wrecker’s brash determination. “That is also correct. It does not seem that your injuries will have any permanent effect on your brute strength and physical domination of the battlefield.”  

            He sounded almost relieved as he said it, and Wrecker suddenly realized Tech was as worried about Wrecker being decommissioned as he himself was.

            Maybe that was why Tech had not only left his own test without permission to make sure Wrecker was alive after the explosion, but also had been so insistent on staying by Wrecker’s side afterwards. If anyone would be able to mount a successful argument against decommissioning any member of this squad of 99s – even if the argument went up against Prime Minister Lama Su himself – it would be Tech.

            The squad had been together long enough and understood each other well enough that Wrecker knew he could count on any one of his brothers for anything. Still, the fact that Tech had risked his own standing as a cadet just to be able to stay close and ensure Wrecker’s safety made Wrecker’s heart warm with gratitude, and he felt in his bones that whatever happened, Tech would always be there for him.

            Wrecker loved his brothers so much. Nobody could have asked for better squadmates.

            “You’re the first of us to be assigned that task. I wasn’t aware the disarming test involved thermal explosives,” Tech said now.

            “I didn’t know either,” Wrecker replied in a low voice.

            Tech sighed. “At any rate, you’re going to have a very – ah, impressive scar.”

            Wrecker frowned as he cautiously patted the layers of bandages on his head. “How do you know?”

            “I saw the damage. The droids did their best and it’s already healing quickly, but… there was a lot of tissue missing. Your hair probably won’t grow back in that area either. All along here – ” and Tech indicated the area by stretching his hand over his own left ear and side of his head.

            The full implications suddenly hit Wrecker; and despite the continued pain, he grinned.

            “What is it?” Tech asked curiously.

            “It’ll be my first battle scar.”

            “I’m not sure you can call it a ‘battle’ scar when you didn’t sustain it in a real battle,” Tech replied drily.

            “I know I didn’t get it in a real battle, but most of the other regs won’t know that,” Wrecker countered. “The important thing is, the regs’ll see this scar and they’ll know I survived something big. And since the scar is right on my face, no one will miss it!”

“Unless you have your helmet on,” Tech pointed out.

            Wrecker stammered for a moment as he tried to come up with an appropriately witty response, but before he could verbalize his retort, the door slid open to admit two very anxious-looking cadets.

            “Wrecker!” Hunter exclaimed, hurrying over to the bed.

            “An actual explosion. Is there anything you can’t survive?” Crosshair quipped as he came up behind Hunter, though the worry was still apparent in his eyes.

            Wrecker tried to guffaw, though it came out more as a wheeze. “It’ll take a lot more than that to put me out of the fight!”

            Hunter shook his head. “This shouldn’t have happened. You weren’t supposed to be tested with a thermal explosive in the first place. From what I can tell, the trainers are all trying to figure out what went wrong.”

            Well, at least he hadn’t misheard critical information… but he had still failed the test, and he was still badly injured, and he couldn’t help but think that he might be deemed unfit to be a soldier.

            “That should be grounds to allow him to retest, then,” Tech was saying thoughtfully.

            “Oh, yeah,” Hunter said, “that’s not gonna be an issue.”

            Hunter said it so confidently, Wrecker couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief. “Really? So I’m not getting…”

            He couldn’t finish the sentence, but all of them knew exactly what he meant.

            “Nope, you’re not,” Hunter said. “I overheard Nala Se saying we’re ahead of the curve already, whatever that means, and that the Jedi will probably want to see our skills for themselves when they get here.”

            Tech’s face perked up with interest. “Jedi?”

            “Yeah. Some of the cadets were saying some Jedi will be coming to oversee training operations from now on. I guess it’s true.”

            Tech now had his “explanation incoming” expression on. “That will be most interesting to experience. The Jedi are formidable warriors, and by all accounts their ways seem to be quite distinct from the Mandalorian and even Kaminoan styles of fighting and training. They have been…”

            “Yeah, yeah, Tech, we didn’t ask,” Crosshair cut him off with a playful shoulder bump to offset the harshness of his voice.

            Wrecker shifted himself slightly to a more comfortable position, noticing that the excruciating pain had become more bearable now that he wasn’t worried about his fate and the fate of his squad, now that he could look forward with new resolutions.

            He wasn’t going to be decommissioned over this. He was going to become an explosives expert – no bomb would ever best him again, and he wouldn’t let any bomb pose a threat to any of his brothers. He was going to be one of the best soldiers out there, just like his brothers were going to be, even if he only had one working eye and ear. He was going to wear his battle scar with pride, because it showed that he might get knocked down, but he would never be beaten. And as long as he, Wrecker, wasn’t beaten, his brothers wouldn’t be, either.

He would make sure of it.

********

“You must sever the connection hinge. Now!”

Pain. So much pain.

            “There is no time, Wrecker. Plan 99.”

            Blinding… burning… pain… ringing… agony… so dark…

            “When have we ever followed orders?”

            Stabbing… crushing… why wouldn’t the pain stop… just make it stop… JUST MAKE IT STOP…

            “Wrecker?”

Echo’s voice drew Wrecker’s thoughts away from Tech’s final words ringing again in his ear, though it wasn’t enough to draw his gaze away from Tech’s broken goggles.

            He didn’t want to think of Tech as broken. He had tried so hard since Eriadu to focus on happy memories with Tech, their time together as cadets, as soldiers, as deserters, their lives together as brothers. But sometimes – most times – focusing on Tech’s life was impossible, when the brutal reality set in.

            Tech was dead. Wrecker hadn’t been able to save him. Omega was gone. Wrecker hadn’t been able to save her – it had been days and they hadn’t even been able to find her. But there was hope Omega would be found and rescued. There was no hope for the same for Tech.

            “Does it ever get better, Echo?”

            For a brief moment, Wrecker wasn’t sure if Echo had heard the question – his voice had been so low and gruff he wasn’t sure if he had even heard himself – but then Echo sighed and leaned against the console, crossing his arms as he faced Wrecker.

            “Yes,” Echo said slowly. “It does get better. But it never goes away completely. You’ll go for longer stretches of time – days, weeks even – feeling okay, the ache is so dim you almost don’t notice it. And then suddenly you’ll feel the pain all over again, like it never left in the first place. But that won’t last long, the pain will fade again, because you’ll have learned to live with it. Just like all the other injuries and losses you’ve learned to live with.”  

            Wrecker sat in silence, grappling with this explanation. He knew Echo had lost brothers before – lost his entire original squad, actually – and he figured Echo must know what he was talking about… but Wrecker didn’t understand it. At all. Losing a brother wasn’t like losing one’s sight or hearing, wasn’t the same as recovering from a blaster wound or a knife to the gut or burns from an explosion.

            Especially since the brother that had been lost had been with Wrecker since the beginning, had helped him through every single injury, every single hurt, those that had healed without leaving a trace and those that had left scars – all of them, except this one.

            Some battle scars couldn’t be seen. The losses that caused them ate away slowly on the inside without leaving any physical marks, just aching emptiness that somehow hurt even worse than every other injury Wrecker had ever experienced.

            All of Wrecker’s physical injuries had healed over time. He didn’t think it was possible that time would somehow make this wound heal too.

            As if he knew exactly what Wrecker was thinking, Echo now added, “It hurts a lot, at first; but remembering my brothers, what they meant to me, all I learned from them helped me keep moving forward. That’s how I learned to live with it. I live for them.”

            “I… I keep trying to think of Tech, of how much he talked and studied and came up with some of the craziest plans,” Wrecker confessed. “I wanna talk out loud about it, but…”

            He didn’t need to finish the sentence. If he wanted to ramble on about Tech, Hunter would patiently listen to him – Wrecker knew this; but, much as his older brother tried to hide it, the look in Hunter’s eyes when Wrecker had first done this had been more than enough to convince Wrecker to stop. Hunter just wasn’t ready to talk or listen about Tech, and Wrecker had to respect that.

            But thoughts and memories like these flowed easier for Wrecker when he was able to talk through them. Holding it all in was so hard.

            Echo glanced back at Hunter, who was currently sleeping fitfully on his rack. The lengths to which Wrecker and Echo had had to go in order to convince Hunter to rest at all…

            “You can talk to me, you know,” Echo offered. “There’s a lot about your time as cadets on Kamino that I don’t know about.”

            Wrecker sat in silence for some time, staring again at Tech’s goggles. Tech had had such poor eyesight that couldn’t be corrected without lenses, no matter what Nala Se and the other medical personnel had tried, that of all the 99s in the squad, he had nearly always been at highest risk for decommissioning; and after Wrecker’s failed disarming test, it had been comforting to know that one brother really understood what it was like to have limited vision, even if Tech had pestered him for months with all the options he had researched of possible ways to restore Wrecker’s vision in his left eye, while Wrecker had responded by teasing Tech that at least spectacles were not one of the options.

            The memory was enough to almost bring a smile to Wrecker’s face – almost – and he glanced up at Echo.

            “Did I ever tell you what Tech did when I got my first big scar?”

@summer-of-bad-batch

[kybercrystals94]

Letting Go

Read here on Ao3

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 6 | Battle Scars

Rated: G | Words: 903 | Summary: Story takes place just before Omega leaves to join the Rebellion.

Crosshair sits down next to Hunter on the sand. “Omega told me what happened.”

“I’m sure she did,” Hunter says. It comes out harsher than he means it to, but he does not try to take it back. It seems that age has worn down the barriers of his emotions, bitterness and hurt leaking through.

“She said you were being unreasonable, overbearing, and overprotective,” Crosshair continues. “Not to mention your listening skills need some work, because you only care about your side of the argument.”

Hunter’s frown deepens. “Good to know.”

“And I said,” Crosshair goes on, as though Hunter hadn’t spoken, “the same thing I said way back when she was only about this big.” He holds out a hand to demonstrate.

Hunter rolls his eyes, because they never knew Omega when she was that small, but he gets the point.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I said?”

Hunter sighs. He’s too tired to play this game. “What did you say?”

“Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you.”

Hunter turns to look at Crosshair, surprised. “When did you tell her that?”

“When we were going to Barton IV,” Crosshair replies, digging a toothpick out of his pocket. He puts it between his teeth. “That kid’s always trying to prove herself, isn’t she? That she’s one of us.”

“She is one of us,” Hunter argues.

Crosshair huffs. “Of course she is, but she’s not a soldier, Hunter. She’s our kid, not our brother in arms. I don’t think she’s ever figured out the difference.”

“So she wants to join the Rebellion because she wants to prove herself as a soldier?”

“Not entirely, although I think that is part of it,” Crosshair says.

“And the other part?” Hunter asks.

Crosshair meets his eye. “She might not be a soldier, but she is a fighter. We raised her that way, didn’t we? To stand up for the defenseless, to do what’s right?”

“That’s not…” Hunter stops because his voice gives out, barbed anguish ensnared deep in his throat. He tries to swallow it away, but it is unyielding, so his voice cracks and breaks around it. “That’s not what I want for her. I want her to be safe. I want her to be here.”

A younger Crosshair might have looked away, trying to comfort from arm’s length. But just as time has made carefully constructed emotional walls brittle, time has softened the sharp edges of his brother. The former sniper moves closer, knocking their shoulders together. “I’m scared to lose her too.”

“We fought so hard to get away from war,” Hunter says brokenly, “to get Omega away from war. And she wants to throw herself into another.”

“I don’t want her to go,” Crosshair says. “But I think she’s already made up her mind. I don’t know where she gets her stubbornness from. Certainly not from me.”

Hunter chokes on the laugh that bubbles up through the mire of sorrow. “Hate to break it to you, Cross, but you’ve got a stubborn streak a hundred klicks wide.”

“Do I?” Crosshair muses, and Hunter glances at him in time to see a grin twitch his lips in the moonlight. “Because she reminds me an awful lot of you.”

“I see a little bit of all of us in her,” Hunter admits, “and yet she is still something all her own.”

Crosshair hums in agreement.

“What if she loses that?” Hunter asks. “What if joining the Rebellion steals that spark she’s always had? We changed so much from the time we were cadets and then soldiers. We didn’t have a choice. But Omega does. She doesn’t have to face the horrors we did, experience the pain and suffering. She’s safe here. Why can’t that be enough for her?”

“Omega already has battle scars, Hunter,” Crosshair says. “You think she went unscathed living the life she did before Pabu? The kid’s tougher than she looks.”

“I never said I didn’t think she could handle it,” Hunter argues, “She just shouldn’t have to.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Crosshair says. “She wants to. Whether we like it or not, she’s a grown woman. She needs to make her own decisions. She needs to have her own cause, her own life. She won’t have us forever!”

That last sentence is like a blaster bolt to the heart, a burning, white hot sensation that drives the breath from Hunter’s lungs. But he takes the pain and shoves it deep, turning his grieved anger on Crosshair instead. “So you want her to go. You’re encouraging her.”

“You know that’s not true,” Crosshair bites out, and Hunter can hear the effort his brother puts into controlling his own, retaliating anger. “But it’s not up to us. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. We have to let go.”

Bruised silence solidifies between them, and Hunter can’t find it in himself to disturb it. He should apologize, should appreciate Crosshair’s attempt at playing the mediator in spite of his own feelings on the matter. Why does Hunter feel at odds with every sibling, no matter where they stand on the issue?

“You’re stronger than I am,” Hunter mutters at last. “Omega can just talk to you about it…but with me, it’s a fight. Why?”

Crosshair sighs. “Because she doesn’t want my blessing, Hunter. She wants yours.”

And the last of Hunter’s brittle, emotional barrier crumbles completely.

END

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99

[flowersareverypretty]

We're Brothers and Brothers are Always There for Each Other

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

(Will be adding to ao3 soon)

Week 1: "It's not what you think"

His arms curled tighter around his head, hands overlapping each other at the nap of his neck. His chin was level with his chest, almost touching, and his legs were tucked as close as he could get them. He was trying to make himself smaller as another kick hit his lower back. Biting his tongue, he managed to stifle a groan as someone else stomped hard against his hip. It hurt. It hurt so much.

Tech embraced himself for another kick, the two were still jeering above him, they wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. There was a pause between the next kick, before he could question it, he felt a hand slither itself underneath his chin and clamp down around his neck. He was yanked up from the ground and, not letting him regain his bearings, was slammed against a wall. His head throbbed after it bounced back from the impact. Tech tried to shake it off, tired to refocus his eyes, but the hold on his neck did not allow for much movements.

As another round of laughter rose from the cadets, he leaned his head back and scrunched his eyes closed. The cool metal of the wall relieved a minimal amount of the pain, but not enough. He let out a choked groan. When it felt like his head stopped spinning, he opened his eyes again. The world was clearer than before, that was good. He blinked a couple times and focused past the crack in his lens to the clone that held him up against the wall. 

The boy seemed to be saying something, but the ringing in Tech’s ears hadn’t died down enough to hear yet. He could assume it was another attempt to insult him in some way. He didn’t pay that any mind.

Using one hand to lessen the pressure and strain on his neck, he kept it firmly pressed against the wall giving himself support. He moved his other hand to wrap around the wrist of the person holding him up. 

He tried to pull the arm away but there wasn't enough leverage to push against. Tech wheezed. The person’s grip tightened closer to a dangerous level. 

Before he could do anything, the sound of a door opening diverted everyone’s attention. He watched as the cadets turned their heads as the newcomer fully walked in. 

“Hunter…” Tech’s eyes widened with dread when they met Hunter’s own. He quickly darted his gaze from them, afraid of what he might see. “It’s not what you think.”

But Hunter’s attention didn’t seem to dwell on Tech. Quickly his glare moved to the other clones in the room and immediately his presence became hostile. His fists tightened at his sides and his form became slightly bent, as if he was preparing to jump forward at the first sign of trouble. 

“Back. Off.” Hunter’s voice was hauntingly deep. It sent a shiver down Tech’s spine, he feared he would soon be on the receiving end of it as well. 

At first, the cadets hesitated. They exchanged quick side glances at each other but when Hunter let out a growl, they didn’t stay longer. The one holding Tech up by his throat didn’t leave enough time for him to adjust in a way to catch himself. He crumbled to his knees, lungs desperately grasping after the strain. The clone didn’t seem to have an ounce of guilt as he darted away. Once they were a good distance from Tech, Hunter angled himself so that his back was never turned to the cadets. He kept watch long after the door slid shut.

Tech tucked his arms to his chest and pulled his legs closer. He kept glancing between Hunter and the floor. The longer Hunter stood unmoving, the more anxious Tech became. In the back of his mind he knew that the squad leader was still sensing a presence behind that door, but he couldn't help but be afraid that he disappointed Hunter. That he was beyond angry. 

It took a minute longer before Hunter finally let up his guard. As soon as Tech saw the tension release from his shoulders, he ducked his head down. He managed to hold back a flinch when he heard Hunter start to approach. 

“Tech.” Hunter’s voice was soft, with a note of concern. 

Tech glanced up at him. Hunter had stopped just a few feet away from where he sat, crouched down on one knee. When he noticed Tech’s gaze, he reached a hand out. This time, Tech couldn't hold back a flinch, his eyes darted back to the floor. From the corner, he noticed Hunter had paused. A frown became present before he sighed and drew back. 

Hunter stood back up and glanced at the door behind. “Come on,” He took a small step closer, trying to beckon Tech with a small smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

Tech, in return, gave a short nod. Keeping his eyes trained to the floor, he used his hand on the wall to steady himself. His hand slipped causing him to stumble. Before he fell back down, Hunter grabbed his arm.

“I got you.” Hunter murmured. 

–

Hunter carefully dabbed a wet washcloth on a small cut on Tech’s forehead. His eye twitched as it stung with each touch. 

The two sat in silence. Hunter hadn’t said anything about what happened, had not said much of anything after they had left that room. Tech was sure that he was angry, disappointed. It was only a matter of time before Hunter finally chewed him out. Before he would throw him out. Tech was becoming more anxious by the second. He wanted to get it over with.

Tech rubbed his thumb into his palm as comfort. “I’m sorry.” 

He felt the washcloth pause mid dab, resting against the cut. Tech’s gaze darted towards Hunter but nothing clued him in what he was thinking. The washcloth was pulled away. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Hunter asked, his voice sincere rather than confrontational. 

“For not fighting back…” Tech pulled his hands to his chest. “I know that I’m behind everyone else. That I am not as skilled at fighting. I’m holding everyone back.” He took a shuddering breath. “But…but I'm trying! I’ll try harder! Please don't get-”

Tehc didn’t get to finish. Hunter was now kneeling in front of him, Tech’s hand in his own, brushing over freshly made nail indents.

“Tech.” Hunter looked into Tech’s eyes. “You are a member of this squad. You will always be a member. You are stuck with us.”

“But-”

Hunter cut him off. “You don’t have to be as skilled as us. You got us, remember? We will cover for you, as you will do for us.” He set Tech’s hand back in his lap. “We’re brothers and brothers are there for each other.”

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

Week 3

Alt Prompt: "Forget I asked"

A/N: I've seen variations of this scenario around and thought I would add my own iteration into the mix. I hope you enjoy. (Also side note: I am so behind on my schedule for the prompts 😅)

Tags: fluff, brotherly love, cute little cadets Word Count: 763

Crosshair was laying on his side in his bunk. His arms were folded across his chest, and he had a scowl on his face. It was well into the night but his brain was wired and he couldn't sleep. He started at the wall of their barracks, the grey the same dull, dank colour as always.

He didn't know why he was so hung up on this. If he just asked Tech he would get an answer and that would be the end of it. He didn't have to make this much of a fuss. But he was, like always he was spinning his thoughts around in his head like the waves on Kamino, over thinking something that was so simple.

Tech was breathing deeply on the bunk attacked to Crosshair's across from Hunter and Wrecker.

Just ask him about it, don't make a big deal out of is and if he says 'no' then that's fine.

He's going to be a soldier one day he can't let silly things as simple as a question stop him in his tracks, and he couldn't let the idea of Tech saying no stop him from asking in the first place. Tech was his brother, his twin, there was nothing for him to be nervous aboout.

Yeah, yeah exactly.

Rolling over with force that was unnecessary, he stands up and walks the three paces to Tech's bunk and raises his arm to tap Tech's shoulder but hesitates. He lowers his arm and opens his mouth instead but doesn't say anything. He closes his mouth and sighs frustratedly he closes his eyes as he does. Suddenly he feels a hand grab his knee and he jumps.

"Crosshair, what in Makers name are you doing?"

Crosshair shoves his hand in his mouth to muffle his yelp of surprise. Tech doesn't look amused and he waits for Crosshair to answer his question.

"Well-" he says pouting slightly at being caught off guard so easily. "-I just wanted to ask you something"

Tech looks confused at Crosshair "Could it not have waited till the morning?"

Tech doesn't seem mad, just confused and sleepy but it's still enough for Crosshair to regret his decision. "You know what, just forget I asked. It doesn't matter"

Crosshair goes to stomp back to his bed but Tech gets up and follows him back those three steps.

"No, it clearly is important, and if you don't tell me now it will bother me all night"

Crosshair sits on his bunk and puts his head on his fist. "I told you to forget about it Tech, you'll say no anyway"

"Well how do you know that? You haven't even asked me"

Crosshair puts his head in his hands irritated. A silence stretches on between Tech and Crosshair before Crosshair mutters "...I just wanted a hug"

Tech didn't answer, Crosshair knew it. He was being stupid; he should have just stayed in his bunk.

"Oh, was that all it was. I thought something was wrong"

Crosshair looks at Tech from the edge of his hand "So it that a yes? Or a no?"

Tech answers by sitting on the bunk beside Crosshair and placing an arm over his shoulder. Slowly Crosshair leans over and rests his head on Tech's shoulder, Tech doesn't move away so neither does Crosshair. The stay like that a while, listening to the buzzing of the lights, the sound of each others breathing and the light rain that is pattering against the window of their room.

Crosshair closed his eyes for only a moment, but when he opened them again, he and Tech had moved back into the alcove of Crosshair's bunk.

Tech was leaning against the wall, Crosshair's head was resting on his shoulder, and he had his blanket tucked around his legs. Tech was also talking to Hunter who was standing in front of the two of them.

Crosshair felt his cheeks grow warm as he looked sheepishly at Hunter.

But Hunter didn't tease him, no Hunter did something Crosshair didn't expect. Seeing Crosshair was awake he smiled at his brother, walked over to Wrecker's bunk pulling him sleepily out of his bed whilst grabbing their blankets and crawling onto Crosshair's bunk.

Tech must've told him.

Hunter sat down on the other side of Crosshair and wrapped his arm around Crosshair along side Tech. Wrecker yawns and lays down resting his head on Hunters lap.

All Crosshair wanted was a hug and he ended up getting more affection than he could have hoped for from the people he cared about most

[electrikworm]

Dark Corners and Shadowed Halls

Relationships: Crosshair & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: None

Summary:

As cadets, the Batch watch a horror holovid together. They are definitively not scared of it. If they're unable to sleep after, there must be some other reason.

Written for @summer-of-bad-batch Week 4: Cadets

Reading the first chapter of @sadiecoocoo's fic The Shadows Are Coming got me thinking about the Bad Batch and horror, and I ended up here. I highly recommend reading the first chapter of her fic if you like horror!

Word count: 1,884

Read on Ao3

The holovid hadn't been scary, so obviously Wrecker wasn't scared.

They'd heard about if from some regs. They'd been scared, even if they were older, but Crosshair said that's just because they're regs. But it sounded fun, and proving to themselves that they were better than the older clones they'd heard about it from was even more reason to watch it.

Tech had no difficulty finding it for them of course, as he often finds things for them to watch or read. He's the smartest clone by far, but Wrecker thinks he might even be the smartest person in existence.

They huddled close to watch the hologram projected by a device Tech probably isn't permitted to have. Wrecker loves it when they do that. He gets to hug his brothers, all whilst being at the perfect range to annoy them with jokes and commentary about what they're watching.

The holovid was fun, and predictably, not scary at all.

But Wrecker can't sleep. His growing pains are mild today, so he should really be able to sleep. It's not like he's scared of the holovid, so it must be the storm keeping him awake.

Lighting flashes outside their window, casting long shadows across their barracks. Wrecker bolts upright. Is someone standing against the far wall, near the door?

Heart beating against his ribs, Wrecker grasps Lula tightly. It was too tall to be his brothers.

It can't be one of those things, those monsters, from the holovid. They're not real.

But it looked like one.

The room is illuminated again. Wrecker hates how many far too dark corners there is in their barracks, all perfect places to conceal one of those things.

Wrecker pulls his blanket up to his chin. He's not scared, but he has to check on his brothers. Just to make sure. But he can't call out to them. What if there really is something in the room with them, and he alerts it?

Blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Lula in hand, Wrecker inches to the edge of his bunk. It feels like there are eyes on him from every dark corner of the room.

They stare out into the dark together, huddled closely.

The first step across the cold floor he takes is slow, but then his mind conjures images of hands grabbing at his leg and he speeds up. Crosshair's bunk is empty, so Wrecker has to cross the room.

He's almost running by the time something catches his leg and he's sent sprawling across the floor, tangled in the blanket he's carrying. Wrecker panics. He won't let anything grab him!

Flailing and tripping over the blanket and his own feet, he gets to Hunter's bunk, immediately hopping up onto it.

Next to Hunter, Crosshair is there already too. Their eyes are wide.

"Want- Wanted to check on you." Wrecker says, out of breath. His heart feels like it might just leap out of his chest.

"Did you have to be so loud about it?" Crosshair snaps, tremble in his voice.

"Didn't do it on purpose! I tripped!" Wrecker omits the part where he thought something grabbed him.

A figure appearing at Hunters bunk makes them all flinch. Wrecker's back hits the wall as he moves away with a yelp.

It's just Tech.

"Who made that noise?" He looks very serious, goggles hastily pulled on his face judging by how crooked they sit.

"I tripped." Wrecker mutters, rubbing at his sore knees. The fact that he fell flat on his face hurts more than the bruises.

Tech hums, climbing into Hunter's bed too. He squeezes himself between Wrecker and Hunter.

"To set things straight, I am most certainly not frightened of the holovid we watched." Tech states. "That would be irrational."

Wrecker, Crosshair and Hunter second the statement, even if all four of them are trembling slightly. When Wrecker takes both his younger and his older brothers hands, neither Crosshair, nor Tech deny him.

"The regs were just being silly, letting a holovid scare them, but that couldn't actually happen, right?" Wrecker asks, clearly directed at Tech. They all go to him for answers, even Hunter, and he's the oldest. "A illness that that can change people, even when they're dead?"

"Hypothetically, making a virus with those capabilities could be possible. There are species of fungus that do something similar." As not frightened as Wrecker is, Tech's answer still makes him gasp.

"Not here on Kamino, right?" Hunter asks, leaning forwards. "They wouldn't make something like that..."

The holovid said the virus was made in a lab, and practically half of Tipoca City is labs. Wrecker squishes Lula to his chest. There was a part in the holovid that played in a lab that was out of power, dark an silent. There was a lot of bodies in those bits.

"They wouldn't." Tech doesn't sound sure. Wrecker swallows dryly, pulling his brothers closer. He always sweats at night, so Wrecker's thirsty, but the prospect of getting up and looking for his canteen isn't very appealing.

“You see anything, Cross?” Wrecker asks, squeezing his little brother's hand.

“Nothing.” Crosshair says. Wrecker watches as his pupils flick about the room. With his enhanced eyesight, Crosshair can see far better in the dark than any human.

The shadows shouldn't bother Wrecker as much, now that Crosshair's confirmed he can't see anything. But Crosshair looks far too unsure for Wrecker's liking.

“We could beat them easily.” Crosshair mutters, pulling the hand linked with Wrecker's close to his chest. It's clear he means the monsters from the holovid.

“Some of the characters were soldiers too, Crosshair.” Tech says.

“Yeah, but they weren't enhanced.” Wrecker doesn't want to think about Tech's statement more than he has to. Almost none of the characters survived the holovid.

They go silent again.

“How'd they do all the effects?” Hunter asks. There was fire at some point, but Wrecker knows Hunter is referring to the way the monsters looked and the gory ways characters died.

“The holovid was entirely made with rather low budget practical effects.” Tech says. Of course he looked this up already. “That's why everything looks so-”

“Fleshy?” Crosshair interrupts. The word invokes the scene were a character is shown being torn apart and eaten in graphic detail. Wrecker shudders, but definitively not because he thought the scene was frighting.

“Precisely.” Tech says.

After a few seconds, Hunter wiggles free of the huddled group and gets off the bunk. “I'm going to the refresher.” Hunter says, voice wavering.

“Alone?” Tech asks.

Hunter swallows, looking around. “We should all go together.” It almost sounds like a question.

Wrecker nods. He doesn't want to get out of Hunter's bunk, but Hunter leaving their barracks alone wouldn't feel right. They should stick together. What if he runs into some regs?

Leaving their barracks, following behind each other closely, Wrecker regrets not taking Lula with him, even if he doesn't like taking her out of their personal space. Instead, he clutches his now empty canteen tightly.

Tipoca City's lights function with sensors, so they aren't walking in the dark. But the halls in front of them, sensors not yet activated, those remain pitch black. Wrecker squints to sharpen what he sees in the dark, unable to make anything out.

Besides Hunter making them stop a few times so he can listen to their surroundings, they get to the closest refresher without any issue. They're alone, thankfully. Regs is the last thing they need right now.

After they've all finished, and Wrecker's refiled his canteen and drunk from the tap, spilling some water on his shirt in the process, they head back to their barracks. Wrecker is calmer now, certain they won't stumble upon anything unwanted on the way.

Hunter stops them again occasionally. The first time, it's just a precaution, but the second, Hunter's breath hitches.

“Someone's walking towards us.” He whispers. Despite having had water, Wrecker's mouth feels dry. He grabs the back of Hunter's shirt, pulling his closer to the wall.

They can't see what's approaching them, they're standing near a branch in the corridor. Wrecker doesn't dare breath as they wait. What if it really is one of those monsters from the holovid?

Wrecker can hear the footsteps too now, far too loud as they grow closer. They should have armed themselves with something. Wrecker gears up to throw his canteen at whatever is about to come around the corner.

Swiftly, a tall figure turns into their corridor. Without hesitating, Wrecker throws his canteen. The figure dodges, canteen clattering loudly across the white floor.

“What the kark is your problem?” The figure, a human with straight brown hair shouts, making Wrecker flinch. She must be one of the bounty hunter trainers, going by the way she's dressed.

“Sorry.” Wrecker mutters. He's not sure the bounty hunter hears it. She's already turned around to pick up Wrecker's canteen. She throws it back.

The canteen hits the wall between Wrecker and Crosshair's heads, force of the throw knocking the lid off it and splashing them both with water. Wrecker repeats his apology.

The bounty hunter takes a step towards them, disapproving expression on her face. Wrecker looks at his shoes. He knows better than to provoke a trainer that's already mad at him.

“Aren't you supposed to be asleep?” Her words sound almost slurred.

“We were using the refresher.” Wrecker's thankful for Hunter taking the initiative. It's not just the fact that he'd the oldest that makes him their leader.

“And do you have to do that in a group of...” The bounty hunter pauses for a long time. “four?”

When none of them answer, not really having anything to justify their actions, The bounty hunter groans.

“Fine, don't answer! I don't kriffing care what your reason is.” She walks off, turning to look at them a final time. “I'll be watching you.”

Wrecker's heart beats furiously as he shares a look with his brothers. He scoops up his now dented and empty canteen. Wrecker should just be grateful it didn't hit him in the face, but the bent metal still makes him a little sad.

Mind on the confrontation with the bounty hunter, Wrecker doesn't think of the holovid until they're in their barracks. Then, the unease of being surrounded by shadows returns. Walking a little too fast, Wrecker beelines for Hunter's bunk.

Not a word exchanged, they all get comfortable in Hunter's bunk, sharing blankets as well as Lula. It's Crosshair that starts another conversation, asking about a specific effect in the holovid, where one of the monsters is cut in half by a closing door.

Wrecker doesn't plan to fall asleep whilst Tech tells them more about the process of making the holovid. He wants to know what Tech has to says, but even more so, he wants to stay awake to keep an eye on his brothers. But at some point, his eyes drift closed.

Next think he knows, Wrecker wakes to Tech's loud snoring and one of his brother's limbs digging uncomfortably into his back. Whilst the weather on Kamino is rarely good, it's brighter during the day.

Most importantly, the shadows are a whole lot less threatening. And even if they were, it's not like the holovid was scary, so Wrecker wouldn't be scared.

[wreywrites]

The Ones We Carry

Summer of Bad Batch Week 4

Prompts: Cadets & “You really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

A/N: Flashbacks for this and Jedi June? Apparently. Also I'm a day late. These prompts were a struggle for me (idk man) and I'm still not totally sold on this one but in the spirit of not getting bogged down, I'm posting it and moving on. Warnings: Not-so-fond memories of Kamino, Crosshair gets to swear a little, as a treat AO3

“How do you know him?” Omega asked as the recorded holo came to an end.

Zara, arms crossed, frown etched on her face, said, “I’ve known him for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s safe to go running when he asks nicely,” Hunter said with an equal frown.

“He’s not going to turn me—”

“I knew Cid for a long time, and look what she did,” Echo growled. “I vote no.”

“It’s not a kriffing vote.” Zara ground her teeth. She liked the guys, but she was an adult, and a trained Jedi, and didn’t need them to always be babying her and breathing down her neck in the name of keeping her safe. “I’m going, because my people asked me to.”

“Oh, he’s ‘your people’ now?”

“What about us?”

“Listen!” she snapped. “Last time I saw him was years ago on Kamino, telling the shinies stories about flying fighters in—” She stopped at the looks on their faces. “What?”

“Kamino?” Crosshair hissed.

Hunter worked his jaw. “So he was a bounty hunter.”

“No, he wasn’t then and I’d bet you the bounty I’m worth that he’s not now—”

“That is precisely the issue,” Tech said. “As a Jedi, you are worth a substantial bounty, one that would make almost any galactic citizen willing to turn you over to the Empire. What is to say this one won’t seize the opportunity?”

She shook her head. “I’m going.” She slammed a datachip on the table. “This will decode in two weeks. If I’m not back and you haven’t heard from me by then, you can go to the coordinates and start looking for me. Got it?”

Zara didn’t wait to hear their answers before stalking off to the ship, immensely glad they refueled when they got home from the last trip so she could just leave right now.

*****

“How did it go today?”

Crosshair shrugged as he finished reassembling his rifle after cleaning and polishing it.

“How about you, Wrecker?”

“Hungry,” Wrecker mumbled. “They made me train through lunch.”

“Here.” Tech held out a ration bar, one of the many 99 had smuggled to them over the last several months since their training had intensified.

Wrecker inhaled it, then started recounted his day, his eyes lighting up the way they always did when he got to talk about wiring explosives and timing detonators. “He actually said I did good today! Got to wire a domino string for blowin’ up walls and dams and long stuff like that. Said I was a natural.”

“Well… you are,” Tech tilted his head quizzically. It looked like he was wondering why the instructor had bothered pointing out such an obvious fact.

Crosshair elbowed him on his way to his bunk.

“Wh—”

“That’s good, Wrecker,” Hunter said quickly. “Really good.”

What none of them said, what they never mentioned, was how normal it was for Wrecker to train right through meal times, for Hunter to get back to their barracks at the end of the day with a splitting headache, for Tech to alternately babble without end all the words he wasn’t allowed to say during training or sit in silence with his datapad either ignoring or not even hearing conversation directed his way, for Crosshair’s eyes to burn from strain and his legs to twitch and bounce from pent-up nervous energy.

For the words they all heard, all day, from the bounty hunters the Kaminoans hired to train them.

Words that even the other cadets, who harbored mixed feelings about the enhanced cadets, wouldn’t repeat—not even to tease them. The other cadets didn’t hate them, but it kriffing felt like the instructors did.

Words sneered at eight-year-old children.

“Surely you can do better than that.”

“Faster—you can’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

“You should know this.”

“If you can’t handle this, maybe we should decommission you right now and save ourselves the trouble.”

Crosshair’s eyes felt like the eye drops one of the medic trainee cadets had given him had been replaced with liquid tibanna. He couldn’t even remember how far he’d been shooting today—just that it seemed unnecessarily far—

“Hey.”

Wrecker’s weight settled onto Crosshair’s bunk.

“You okay?”

Crosshair rolled over to face the wall in response.

“Don’t let ’em get to ya,” Wrecker said quietly. “We know you’re the best, no matter what those bounty hunters say.” Then he stood up, and something small took his place.

Crosshair stayed there, curled on his side with his eyes squeezed shut toward the wall until the others had finished their nightly routines and one of them clicked off the lights. When it had been dark and quiet for several minutes, he rolled over.

There was Lula.

*****

It was her first time in hyperspace.

No, it wasn’t.

The first time she had been only one, and Master Depa had been bringing her from Mandalore to Coruscant. Zara didn’t really remember it. She remembered being sad, though with the benefits of age and hindsight and knowledge of the Force, she had later become sure that it wasn’t her sadness, but his.

This trip, though, this trip she would remember forever. The joy running rampant through the Force between her and her clanmates and the excitement that Padawan Swan felt at this great responsibility and honor that had been given to her.

Nahdar bounced in place next to her. On the other side of the room, Anakin and Aayla wrestled to burn off some energy.

Zara looked down at her datapad and its collection of sketches. Soon she would be building it, the lightsaber in her designs, and then she would be carrying it on her hip like the big Jedi did, and then she would be learning as someone’s padawan! Her eagerness was palpable, she was sure, but she didn’t care. She was surrounded by friends and today was the first big step on their way to becoming Jedi.

*****

“Force, you’re stressed.” Zara nudged the wall panel, opening the door to the supply closet and revealing Crosshair sitting in a nest of blankets. She dropped a couple of ration bars into his lap. “And you’re here, when I recall all of you saying you didn’t want me here, so go ahead and explain that.”

“You said you knew this guy on Kamino. But did you know what he was like on Kamino?” Crosshair shook his head. “They were awful. All of them. Acted like they’d rather be anywhere else and getting their toenails ripped out than teaching us. Made life hell for us in exchange.”

“I was there,” she said quietly, trying to be patient. “I was on Kamino several times during the war. I know what it was like—”

“No you don’t!” he snapped. “We grew up there! We only had each other and the mudscuffers training us, and they were—No.”

“No what?” Zara snapped back.

“You’re not—You insist on going to see this man? Fine, whatever. But you really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

“Is that what you’ve got the whole entire Force churning about?”

He leveled a glare at her.

“No, I’m serious. You snuck on the ship with me and now you’re sitting here stewing because I’m going to visit my uncle, the Protector of Concord Dawn, who happened to train fighter pilots on Kamino, because you think he’s the same person as kriffing Bric Sykevi—”

*****

“Yes, Master Chief.”

“Sorry, Master Chief.”

“I’ll do better next time, Master Chief.”

It made him feel better that the regs were terrified of Master Chief too, but it didn’t make him any less scared of the man, or of the punishments he could dole out and the threats he could make that only took one misstep to turn into actions taken.

He couldn’t wait to graduate, to get promoted from cadet to private or whatever they wanted to call him, to leave Kamino and never see those instructors again.

*****

“Bric—!” He was on his feet, pile of blankets left behind as he towered over Zara. He dropped his voice and growled, “Bric Sykevi is the lowest piece of bantha shit in the galaxy. If he died right now, I would only mourn because I didn’t get to kill him myself.”

“Whoa…” Zara breathed, leaning away until she bumped the wall.

“And anyone who willingly worked for him—I just—I can’t—”

“Please take a deep breath.”

He hauled in a breath through gritted teeth. “I was raised by bounty hunters hired, first by the Kaminoans and then by Bric Sykevi, to turn us into cold-blooded killing machines. That is my experience with what you might call ‘parental figures.’”

*****

Ky and Master Obi-Wan were laughing so hard tears ran down their faces.

“So Quin—Quin—” Ky wheezed, completely unable to finish her embarrassing story about Master Quinlan, but Master Ob-Wan didn’t need her to. They had known Master Quinlan since they came to the Temple as children.

“Let me guess—he tried to sweet-talk—”

“He tried to sweet-talk the guard!”

Master Obi-Wan roared, leaning against Ky as she howled.

Zara smiled. Their quiet afternoon of meditation had turned into Anakin napping in the grass—Master Obi-Wan said he needed it after their morning spar—and Ky and Master Obi-Wan trading stories about their adventures in the wide galaxy while Zara sat and listened and basked in the sunshine of the Force.

In moments like this, she could remember more clearly. A blue-eyed boy, his tongue sticking out and his eyes crossed. A red-haired man picking her up and tossing her high over his head, then catching her and spinning her around and around as she laughed.

*****

“So you decided to stow away? To what? Protect me from my actual family member because you had horrible people paid to raise you?”

*****

Crosshair remembered pain and fear and exhaustion, learning to check corners not for enemy soldiers but for angry trainers looking to take out any and all frustration on him. The only real safety was to be found with his brothers, their little band with its four members, four sides in stable square, with no blind corners.

*****

“I came along because none of us had to be alone on Kamino. We had each other. I don’t want you to—”

*****

Zara remembered sunshine and laughter and safety, the knowledge that everyone in the Temple wanted what was best for her and for her to become the best Jedi she could be. She had her creche mom and her master and her master’s master and her master’s friends and her friends’ masters and all of them working to better each other and her and the galaxy around them and expecting nothing in return.

*****

“You don’t want me to trust someone I shouldn’t? Who gets to make that choice? Do you need him to fill out an application? Run a background check? If that’s the case, you might want to run one on me too—I’ve done some questionable shit, you know!”

“You just—trust—everyone!”

Zara clenched her fists and inhaled sharply. “Actually,” she growled, “I trust very few people, but I value the ones I do trust, and I work to maintain a mutual level of trust. Fenn Rau is the only person alive who I knew more than ten years ago. And the other two people I’ve known for even halfway close to that long are bounty hunters. Everyone from my old life is dead. I will not turn away from this last person. Not now.”

She took four steps back down the hallway before spinning on her heel and storming back. “And you, Crosshair—” she jammed a finger in his chest, “—you had better learn how to trust people, because it’s a big kriffing galaxy, and it’s a terrible place to be alone. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

*****

He remembered late nights in the barracks, talking and laughing with the other three, the worries and stresses of the day forgotten in those moments over games of dejarik and smuggled snacks from 99.

He was never quite sure if it was because of or in spite of their training that they were so inseparable, so united, so devoted to each other. Maybe both. No matter the pain it took, cadet-hood had forged their bond as brothers, and they would never be alone.

@summer-of-bad-batch

[jillianfahey]

Bad Batch - Afterlife? Wrecker 1 1/2 (Wreckers POV)

Wrecker looked around at all the brothers around him, hoping that Hunter was there somewhere. He hated the thought of how his brother and squad leader must be blaming himself for their brothers deaths. But he could only see the regs around him.

Picking his larger than normal frame off the floor he stood tall, looking around for his brother. There was no sign of Hunters slightly shorter than average frame and shaggy hair so he started walking, trying not to bump into any of the regs around him as he searched. It was almost as if they were on Kamino with the amount of brothers of all ages around him, and he wanted to laugh at loud at the joy the cadets obviously felt as they ran together. Not in an exercise, but because they were playing games and being brothers.

None of this made sense, but it felt nice seeing his uptight brothers relaxed even if they were still short with him. Finally the hall changed and he heard a sound he never thought he would hear again, “Technically the…” he didn’t listen further as he barreled over to hug Tech the smaller brother he was not able to keep safe. Feeling his brothers smaller fame stiffen before relaxing and stating, “While I did miss you as well this display is unnecessary.”

Over his shoulder the deliberate, “How touching.” Crosshair, their first batchmate to apparently die but was here with them safe and sound. But Wrecker needed to hug him and Echo noted with a smile that while Crosshair grimaced at the crushing embrace he did nothing to escape it. 

It took about a month for Wrecker to stop staring at his brothers who seemed suddenly alive and try to listen to them planning. But his new friend Hevy has so many plans to wreck things and that was fun too. Echo dragging them both out by the ear was not fun though. Wrecker was planning on a new batch of playful destruction when Hunter stumbled into the room. From the unkempt hair, dark circles under his eyes and hollows in his cheeks they could see he hadn’t been taking care of himself. He also needed a good shower or three but Wrecker hugged him anyway. It was a long few weeks before their older brother would let them out of his sight. 

A month or so after Hunter was starting to realize they would not disappear if they left his sight for thirty minutes Wrecker was leaning in the open area of the hall that seemed to be an unofficial gathering point for everyone. He was supposed to be listening for any information but he kept thinking of you and how he had traded work for the pair of clothes that was now next to his exercise equipment. He wanted to see you, hold you, and let you know that everything was going to be fine. 

The regs stirring around got his attention and he thought it was probably just Hunter checking on him as he had been away for longer than his older brother liked. But no, it was, “Y/n?”

The loose garment you were wearing swirled as you turned to him. Crying “Wrecker,” you ran directly into his arms and he gathered you close against him, carefully tucking the bottom of the garment down. He knew you well enough to know that the loose garment riding up to show even more of your body would make the situation worse. 

Speaking only to you as you shook, “Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He hurried to the Batches apartment. On the way he saw Hunter who took one look at your shaking form and signed ‘apartment’ before moving away again at his nod. Opening the door one handed he firmly shut it behind both of you and carried you to the couch. Setting you down he gently untangled himself from you clinging hands with a, “Hold on a minute,” before going into his room. Picking up the smaller set of clothes from the chair next to his exercise equipment he hurried out to you. You hadn’t moved from where he had set you but you met his eyes and when he held out the clothes you took them and then followed his motion to his room. Nodding once you went in and closed the door behind you. 

Running his hands over his head Wrecker silently kicked himself, he needed to do more to let you know that you were safe. But what else could he do? Trying to think though his options he heard the door open and tuned to see you in the t-shirt and sweat pants. You were no longer shaking and your face was bright with happiness as you smiled you at him, “Thanks Wrecker, your the best.”

Feeling the blush across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Its really nothing.” Then he noticed the couch and remembered that talking about bad experiences helped so he motioned to it, “Want to tell me what happened?” He thought he had a good idea but he wanted to know your experience to help you. So when you nodded and sat down on the couch he sat in the chair across from you trying to note points, quietly nodding along to show that he was listening.

At the end of the story of what had happened to you that morning Wrecker spoke, “You don’t get a room just like that,” he snapped to show quickness. “At least that’s what Tech says,” seeing that he had scared you, “But not to worry you can stay with us.” Extending his arms to show the whole apartment, “The Bad Batch lives here.”

Seeing you smile always made his heart melt a little bit, and this one was even better than usual, “Thanks Wrecker.” Then there was the sound of a stomach protesting and he loved seeing your ears turn pink with embarrassment, “Do you have anything to eat?”

Grinning at you, “Oh yeah!” Then he lead you over to the kitchen to have some of the soup Echo had made. He couldn’t remember why it was so hearty, but it was filling and good. And seeing your happiness at the meal made everything even better. 

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

I hope that this was enjoyable. I'm sorry it took so long for the POV of our big, soft hearted boy.

[nimata-beroya]

SUPERNOVA

This my piece for Day 1 of @tbb-appreciation-week!!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Royce Hemlock Additional Tags: The Bad Batch Appreciation Week 2023, Tbbaw2023, force sensitive AU, Force-Sensitive Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Canon-Typical Violence, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Are you sure?, Force Lightning (Star Wars) Series: Part 1 of TBBAW 2023, Part 9 of Good Soldiers Follow Orders, Good Brothers Disobey Them Summary: Hunter shows off his ace up his sleeve in a confrontation with Dr. Hemlock during the rescue of his sibling in Mt. Tantiss.

SUPERNOVA

“Come closer and he’ll die.”

Time stays still, and the tension grows in the room to an unbearable level, so thick that it makes it impossible for Hunter to breathe. His eyes can’t stray away from Dr. Hemlock at the other end of the room. He’s aware that Omega unconscious on the floor at a side, but he doesn’t dare to peek at her. Everything in him is urging him to check on her, but he doesn’t dare to move. With his enhanced senses, he can tell she’s waking up; she’ll be fine.

Hunter can’t say the same thing about the brother he thought he’d lost, whose life Hemlock is threatening right now. Hemlock smirks knowingly, as he hovers his fingers over the buttons in the console. His threat echoes in Hunter’s mind, and he cannot control the surge of fear and anger washing over him. And with it, something much more profound and animalistic comes along.

It’s a feeling that he learned to suppress during his cadet years, channeling it for a good use. One that’s now boiling to dangerous levels. Hunter is about to explode like a supernova. Struggling to to take control of his emotions, his fingers tighten around his vibroknife.

Hemlock watches him intently and says with his poised yet dangerous tone, “Consider your next move very carefully, or the day will end poorly. You and your friends might have successfully taken over the facility, but I’m the one in control here.”

“Step away from the console, Hemlock!” Hunter growls.

“If I don’t, what? You can’t stop me.”

In other circumstances, such a taunt would’ve bounced off Hunter like it’s nothing. But he has no longer the ability to think rationally. These past months since Hemlock took Omega away, all his training, all his skills to stay calm in a tense situation have been wiped out till there’s nothing left. All that Hemlock words do is snap the feeble tether Hunter has on his emotions.

He can’t control himself anymore.

Keep Reading

[ilcuoreardendo-fic]

Hunter & Echo (Snippet)

Part of my Echo and the Batch (working title) set of fics - small, meaningful moments Echo shares with his new squad, taking place in the days and weeks after he joins the Batch.

These are likely part of a somewhat larger self-indulgent series (Written in the Dust) featuring a Jedi apostate character who’s been kicking around in my head for a bit (well...since watching Echo get blown up on Lola Sayu).

This is just a snippet. Full fic coming soon. Fics for Crosshair and Tech to follow. And here’s the first one - Wrecker and Echo - if you missed it.

______________________________

“Where’s everyone?” Echo’s mouth felt stuffed full of gauze.

“Kicked ‘em out. Well, Crosshair and Tech had things to do. I just got ‘em moving quicker and made Wrecker go with ‘em. He’s not the best thing to wake up to after a night like yours.”

Echo flung the blanket back, swung his legs off the bed and sat up with a huff. He rubbed his hand across his face. Less than two days on Kamino and he was already fucking up the dynamic.

“I didn’t mean to kill the homecoming mood.”

“You didn’t,” Hunter said firmly, slipping off the table. He picked up canteen, held up a pill bottle in his other hand. “Another round? Need to take the edge off?”

Echo took the bottle. They were the same pills Kix had given him on Anaxes. But the bottle was different. And the label.

“These are yours,” Echo said dully.

“Yeah, wasn’t sure where yours were.” Hunter sat on the bunk next to him. “The thing about enhanced senses...they play hell on the body until you get used to them, learn how to tune in what’s necessary and tune out the rest. Used to be real bad. As a cadet, I’d get headaches that laid me out for days. Not the results the Kaminoans were looking for, but “desirable mutations often come with side effects that must be properly managed.” Used to be on a different med at a much higher dose...”

“Pump you full of drugs, send you back to the field.” Echo had seen it multiple times. Brothers with blaster holes through their guts, held together by bacta patches and Symoxin, glassy-eyed from endorphins and the rush of drugs, descending on the battlefield with only one thought in mind—the fight, the win—and inevitably meeting their end by way of a battle droid’s blaster.

“Yep,” Hunter said. “Have to say, I was more agreeable on the higher dosage, but much less effective in the field. More than once, in the early days, Crosshair or Tech or Wrecker had to drag my ass out of the fire, when the drugs were too much or after I’d switched back and had moments where I lost myself, got blinded or deafened by blaster fire or explosions. And,” Hunter’s voice grew firm, making Echo look up from the pill bottle. “I’ve done the same for them. So hauling you up after you puke your guts out from a migraine? All part of what we do. The Batch looks out for each other. And you’re one of us now.”

[tragedy-for-sale]

Pain Like This

'Growing up, we got use to it, Crosshair's cries that we could never stop, Tech's frustration and anger, fits of rage, Hunter hiding everything away, it was just how we grew up. It was just a bunch of pain for us, Echo, we never looked forward to the future like regs did, like you did, 'cause we were so scared not all of us would make it. We still are.'

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

'One, two, wheeze, one, two, wheeze...' Wrecker repeated in his head, he listened to his little brother's breathing as he slept. '..One, two, wheeze..' Crosshair won't let himself fall asleep until the others do, but no way was that happening, Wrecker mastered that art of fake sleeping so he could listen to Crosshair's breathing, just in case it stopped.

The light would stay off, even if Hunter and Tech ever left the refresher. Opening his eyes, Wrecker looked to the closed door, hearing the faint whines of Tech, who'd taken residence in front of the toilet, 'Medicine and whatever the heck they fed him-' He threw it all up anyways, so why did they keep giving him it?! Wrecker's face twitched, looking back down to Crosshair. 'One, two, wheeze...'

The door opened, Hunter came out with the same look as always: Pure unhappiness. "Trade you?" Hunter whispered, walking to Wrecker, who nodded and carefully got up, not stirring Crosshair until Hunter had climbed into bed. Wrecker got up, grabbing some water and handing it to Hunter, "Thanks."

"Yeah," Wrecker nodded, "You need to sleep, so sleep." He narrowed his eyes and hit Hunter gently on the shoulder, "..Please." He added before heading to the refresher, where Tech was laying in the floor.

"... I'm sick of this. I'm sick of laying here, my eyes hurt, my stomach hurts, my throat hurts, my everything hurts." Tech complained as Wrecker came and sat with him, "I can feel my stomach's acid eating my throat-" He sat up, Wrecker frowned at the tears in Tech's eyes, ".....Crosshair, he's okay?"

"... Y-yeah!" Wrecker shook his head to get himself back in the moment, "Hunter's with him now and so's Lula-" He explained. Tech nodded, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head in his arms.

"His breathing?"

"Still even, one, two, wheeze." Wrecker recalled. Tech nodded as he hugged himself tighter, closing his eyes. Wrecker wondered if Tech would want Lula, but he knew Tech wouldn't want to take it from Crosshair. "... Feeling better?"

Tech's head shot up, "Yes, very much so, let's go train, in fact." He said before jumping to the sound of a loud crack of thunder and the flickering of the lights. "How long has that been going on?"

"Mmh.." Wrecker thought, looking up he stared at the light for a long time before saying, "I don't know, the light is off in the room." He watched his brother closely, 'why isn't he wiping his eyes?'

Tech stretched out his legs, taking a shaky breath, "I wanna lie down," He looked to Wrecker, well, the blob he knew as Wrecker. "Can we go lay down?"

"Yeah, you need to sleep." Wrecker smiled, patting Tech on the shoulder before standing up and picking Tech up, who felt like a rag doll in his older brother's arms. Stepping into the darkened room, Wrecker stepped as quietly as he could, making sure the rain was louder than he. He came to his bed and tucked Tech in, "I'm just gonna go clean up, okay? Then I'll be back." He knelt down by the side, pulling the blanket up and grabbing another pillow.

"Okay," Tech mumbled as he tried to make out Hunter and Crosshair, he saw Hunter getting up, 'What are they gonna talk about?' He watched the two of them start to straighten up, whispering close. Tech's focus came back to himself as he felt his stomach turn. Wrecker had put him in his bed, not his own. Tech looked across the room longingly, and with a quick glance, he kicked the blanket off and headed towards his bed on the other side of the room. He climbed into his bed, smiling as he looked at the mess on his bed, he checked a few switches and loose wires before curling up and laying down to sleep.

Hunter and Wrecker had gone into the refresher, it was a place to talk if they didn't want their brothers to hear. They sat on the floor, Wrecker silent, ready to listen, as did Hunter. He ran his hand through his hair as he let out a sigh, "They wanna do the second trial tomorrow," Hunter whispered, there was an edge to his voice, he spoke fast, not giving himself enough time to turn his voice into a cry. "They wanna stick him with more needles but he's been so sore and they wanna keep hurting him-" He failed, his voice broke as his eyes watered, ".. He couldn't even hold his blaster today, Wrecker, he couldn't stop shaking and they wanna do that all again?"

Wrecker bit his cheeks as he wrapped his arm around his brother, Hunter was the type who didn't like help, so Wrecker knew, 'He needs to rant, and if he crys-' He listened to his brother's broken breathing, trying so hard to be quiet. The refresher was the place to go if they didn't want their brothers to hear, like the sound of their crys. Hunter had fallen into his brother's arms, gripping his shirt in a pained frustration, he wanted to cry and give up, but most of all, he wanted his brothers to be okay and to be healthy. But they were always so far from okay, all of them were so far from okay. How were they ever going to be soldiers?

Through a small window, they looked to the pounding rain and saw the flicker of lightening, they counted the seconds until a boom the thunder came, and when it did, Hunter let out a sob, it was the only thing loud enough to mute him but not wake their little brothers. "You need to sleep," Wrecker whispered, you had a hard day too, you were in pain too-"

"I don't care." Hunter pushed away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, "I don't care about me, I care about our family, I care about our little brothers and how they're always in pain," gritting his teeth, his anger settled in, that was how it always was. Hunter would be reminded with how unfair life was, and how his brothers were in bodies that were sickly and killing them. Everyday, he thought about how his baby brothers were dying. And Wrecker, Wrecker thought about how all his baby brothers were in pain, how all of them were dying.

He pulled Hunter back into his arms, "You'll worry tomorrow, and the day after that, and the next." He huffed as he stood up, Hunter unwillingly in his arms, "You'll cry tomorrow too, you'll scream too, but right now, we're sleeping," He walked back into their room, his loud booming voice got quiet, "... you're gonna sleep, Hunter."

"What if-"

"Sleep, we'll put the blankets on the floor next to them, but if you're not gonna worry about yourself, then I am, and I say you need to sleep." He set Hunter down as he grabbed blankets and pillows. "Okay?"

Hunter grabbed his pillow, hugging it, "...okay." He mumbled reluctantly, "But if they wake up, so will I." He argued as he grabbed a blanket and laid down.

"Deal." Wrecker smiled as he laid down too, hugging Hunter close. He stared up at the darkened ceiling and it was then, the fatigue of it all hit him. '...All my brothers are dying.' He thought, his frown becoming apparent,

'My baby brothers are all dying.'

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

[whirlybirbs]

FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good. 

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling. 

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details. 

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel. 

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch. 

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot. 

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 

Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?” 

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.” 

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

[kybercrystals94]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Master List

(Finally compiling all of my Summer of Bad Batch 2024 fills into one place 🙈)

I am thrilled to be an overachiever, filling 28/28 prompts this summer for the event I had the privilege of facilitating, @summer-of-bad-batch 🥰 and I am proud to have worked alongside so many amazing creators this summer to fill prompts in so many unique ways!

Find my list of fills below the cut!

Neon Warfare

Prompts Filled: Week 1 | Main: Water Gun Fight | Alt: "It's not what you think."

Excerpt:

"C'mon, Echo," Wrecker whines, making a grabbing motion with his outstretched hand. "It's water. It's not like it's gonna hurt them." The manchild does have a point. Echo sighs. "Fine. But so help me, you shoot me again with this thing, I'll send it out the airlock."

Eyes Wide Open

Prompts Filled: Week 2 | Alt: Comfort Zone

Excerpt:

"Did you know," Crosshair says, conversationally, "that Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?"

Might

Prompts Filled: Week 2 | Main: Injured

Excerpt:

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so intensely, why it feels like an abrasive lapse of memory. He’d seen Echo deal with the same, exact issue as he acclimated to the loss of his own limbs after his rescue from Skako Minor. He’d never thought Echo ridiculous or idiotic for it. In fact, he’d admired the reg’s tenacity, how quickly he corrected and adapted. And yet, here is Crosshair, refusing a cup of caf because he used the wrong hand to claim it. 

A Dangerous Dance

Prompts Filled: Week 3 | Main: "It's just a scratch."

Excerpt:

The Mandalorian trainer pulls a knife from the sheath strapped around his vambrace, and twirls the short blade deftly between his fingers. The man isn’t even looking at the weapon, his eyes following the movements of his sparring clone cadets. If he notices the shaggy headed cadet unabashedly watching him in the far corner, he doesn’t give any indication. 

Anything

Prompts Filled: Week 3 | Alt: "Forget I asked." | Bonus Alternate Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

Excerpt:

Crosshair wakes to a snuffling sound, and turns over to find his sister standing next to his bed.. “Omega? What’s wrong?” “I got sick,” Omega mutters, and her breath trembles. She’s crying, softly, quietly. Crosshair reaches over and clicks on the lamp, bathing the room in a warm glow of light. But the warmth does not extend to Omega’s face, her skin pale and eyes red rimmed. She blinks rapidly, and a tear escapes, creating another shiny track down her ashen cheek. She does not look well at all. Of all the times for Hunter and Wrecker to be gone on a supply trip for the island. 

Cadets (Artwork)

Prompts Filled: Week 4 | Main: Cadets

Stolen Time

Prompts Filled: Week 4 | Alt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

Excerpt:

He breaks the surface of consciousness with a breathless gasp. When he moves to sit up, a weight on each of his shoulders holds him back. A soothing voice speaks incomprehensibly and close, warm breath on his face. Tech continues to choke down gulps of air, his lungs greedily accepting the panicked doses. Words begin to take shape in the voice above him, and he hears his name, spoken so softly and gently that Tech knows that the speaker loves him. But he doesn’t recognize the voice, although his mind feels thick and muddled. Perhaps he simply cannot remember. 

Local Flavors

Prompts Filled: Week 5 | Main: "You're a bad liar." | Alt: "Need a hand?"

Excerpt:

Crosshair plucks one of the bottles from the basket, holds it up and shakes it. “What the kriff is this stuff?” “Seasoning,” Hunter says. “For cooking.” Crosshair manages to screw off the lid one handed, sniffing at the contents suspiciously. He makes a face. “I do not want this on my food.” Hunter snatches it away from him. “You wouldn’t know good flavor if it bit you in the shebs,” Hunter says.

Letting Go

Prompts Filled: Week 6 | Main: Battle Scars

Excerpt:

Crosshair sits down next to Hunter on the sand. “Omega told me what happened.” “I’m sure she did,” Hunter says. It comes out harsher than he means it to, but he does not try to take it back. It seems that age has worn down the barriers of his emotions, bitterness and hurt leaking through. “She said you were being unreasonable, overbearing, and overprotective,” Crosshair continues. “Not to mention your listening skills need some work, because you only care about your side of the argument.” Hunter’s frown deepens. “Good to know.” “And I said,” Crosshair goes on, as though Hunter hadn’t spoken, “the same thing I said way back when she was only about this big.” He holds out a hand to demonstrate. Hunter rolls his eyes, because they never knew Omega when she was that small, but he gets the point. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I said?” 

A Tiny, Unfamiliar Voice

Prompts Filled: Week 8 | Alt: Lula

Excerpt:

“Are you awake?” a tiny voice whispers. A tiny, young, unfamiliar voice. Wrecker groans. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. He doesn’t want to wake up. Not yet. He feels floaty and heavy all at once. And painless. He’s contentedly numb. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt no pain at all, not in his muscles or his head or his heart…he doesn’t want it to end.

Treacherous Waters

Prompts Filled: Week 6 | Alt: "Get out of my room!" | Week 7 | Main: "Don't avoid the question." | Alt: Getting a Haircut

Excerpt:

Crosshair knows he should be relieved, but somehow he’s tread into more treacherous waters.

Racket

Prompts Filled: Week 8 | Main: Swimming Lessons

Excerpt:

"Oh, look, a little lab scrabber,” Racket sneers when Omega walks into the infirmary with AZI. Omega ignores him, keeping her pace to show she doesn’t care. However, AZI stops to look at the clone sitting on the edge of a medical cot holding an ice pack to a developing black eye. “I must correct you, CT-1051811. Omega is not a lab scrabber. She is a medical assistant.”

Too Young To Grow Up (Drabbles Collection)

Prompts Filled: Week 9 | Main: "Hold still." | Alt: Stargazing | Week 10 | Main: Hugs | Week 11 | Alt: "Yeah, kid, we're fine." | Week 13 | Alt: Crashing Hard

Excerpt:

Moments and memories of Omega growing up on Pabu.

Threat

Prompts Filled: Week 10 | Alt: "Just when were you planning on telling us that?" | Week 11 | Main: "I didn't think I would get this far."

Excerpt:

“Just when were you planning on telling me that you were building a battle droid?”

Nightmares and Demons

Prompts Filled: Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness | Week 12 | Main: Nightmares | Alt: Radio Silence | Week 13: "Stop touching me!" // "I'm not touching you!"

Excerpt:

The girl came again. She knows his name. Speaks with a familiarity he craves. She tells him they are coming. Their brothers. Their brothers are coming. It is only a matter of time. He believes her. He has to believe her. If he doesn’t, he has nothing. Nothing but the poison that the Empire has leached into him. Needles and torture and endless, endless pain. Her promise, void and empty as it is, is like a light in the inky, consuming darkness. A fragile, flickering flame on the end of a match. It burns close to his finger tips, but he won’t let it go.

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

Week 3

Prompt: "It's just a scratch"

A/N: Not me writing this literally 24 hours before the next prompts come out haha. Ngl tho it's kinda of topic but i just wanted to do some retired Pabu writing and this prompt kinda subtly fit it, I was planning on making it more angsty but it ended up being nice and fluffy. Anyways I hope you enjoy. This will be on my ao3 as well. Tags: none, fluff, slight injury

The afternoon sun shone down on the rocks that Omega and Echo were standing on. Despite Hemlock being gone and Tantiss destroyed Echo wasn’t done training Omega.

Since his cadet days he had done his best to work by the book and train for as long and as hard as he could. Spending time with Clone Force 99 has taught him to loosen up just a little bit, but old habits die hard.

He knows Omega isn’t a soldier and her biggest threat was sitting at the bottom a valley but she needed to know how to keep herself safe in a galaxy so vast, because he knew that eventually one day she would leave Pabu. It was a given but in the meantime all he could do was prepare her.

Right now with the sun beginning to sink lower in the sky but Echo was trying to get as much training done with Omega as he could.

“You need to keep your guard up; one wrong move and you are open and vulnerable. And then you get hurt, or worse” He took another light swing at Omega, and she brought her arm up to block his punch. She did so successfully.

“Where are your weakest points?” he says testing her as he makes another swing.

“My throat, ribs and knees. I can’t leave those open or in range”

“Good. What points do you aim for?”

“The sides of the head and eyes, neck and legs. Attacking the head can disorient, damaging the eyes can be dangerous, neck can be fatal, and legs can subdue them”

“Yes perfect. And what if they are carrying a weapon” he swings again

“Focus on disarming them then either fight or run”

“Excellent” he says before taking one final swing at Omega

Her progress has been promising; she has been able to keep up with him during exercise. She can shoot her practice targets with accuracy that even Crosshair has praised her for. Her ability to complete the terrain courses he sets up have been slower than the rest of her progress, but he knows at the very least she’ll survive.

“The suns going down but I want to try one last thing. You think you’re up for it?”

Omega is breathing hard, but she is ready. She’s going to prove to Echo that she is just as capable as the rest of her brother or any of the regs. Tech has given her the knowledge, Wrecker had taught her demolitions, Hunter had taught her how to track and scout and survive on next to nothing, and Crosshair had taught her the ins and outs of every weapon imaginable, but Echo taught her how to adapt. How to defend herself and defeat enemies of all kinds. If she was able to keep up with and stand up to him then she would be ready for anything the galaxy will throw at her.

“I’ve got the boys to organise their own obstacles for you to complete all over Pabu. Consider this your final test of sorts. At the end of the route, you will have to defend yourself against a surprise attacker – me. If you can best me then I’ve taught you all I can. You think you’re ready Havoc 5?”

Omega takes a deep breath in then smirks at Echo “I’m ready!”

He smiles back at her, looking at her now he takes a moment to notice how much she’s grown. He remembers when they first met her, how small she was, how often they had to get her out of trouble. But now she’s taller, stronger. Her shoulders have widened and her training has helped her build up a stronger frame. Her hair had grown out which Hunter had helped her keep in a tight braid. His years of having to deal with longer hair started to become useful again since she grew it out. They were luck because the rest of the batch would have been useless when it came to hair.

So, Echo set her off on the path and made his way to the final location waiting for her to arrive. He set himself up in the shadows by the entrance to the cave and waited for her to arrive.

Omegas first challenge was set up by Crosshair, she had to complete a small parkour course whilst avoiding stun blasts from him as well as hitting her own targets. Crosshair almost got her, but she ducked just in time and shot her last target. Trying to hide his pride in Omega, he directs her to her next step of her test.

She made her way around the beach of Pabu and came to where Wrecker had set up several types of explosives along the beach. Some hidden and some in plain sight. Omega counted at least eight visible to her. As soon as she got to Wrecker, he clicked the detonator and told her she had 30 seconds to defuse them all. So she got to work moving swiftly one by one to each bomb disarming them, she thought she had tripped one of the last ones but she was able to reroute the circuit and cancel the detonation command. With only three seconds left, thanks you Wrecker’s rather loud counting, she completed her task. Wrecker roared with approval and sent her to her next task with a pat on the back that almost sent her into the sand.

She next found Tech sitting down a side street along the main town centre. His test was a quick-thinking verbal response test. He thew facts and questions at her with lightning speed as she answered just as quickly, she stumbled over her words once or twice but was able to pick herself back and up and continue to recount the information Tech has taught her over her years with them on the Marauder and even on Pabu, giving her exercises and tests to make sure her information was up to date. Once he was happy with the questions, she had answered he told her she had to go to the small forest at the back of the island. She guessed Hunter was waiting there for her.

When she got there she was a little confused at first as Hunter was no where to be found but when she stepped onto a small piece of paper with the word “Come find me” written on them she knew what her next test would be. She took in her surroundings and made note of every clue to where Hunter was hiding. An indent in the dirt which was a boot track that had attempted to be covered. Disrupted leaves moved in the direction opposite to the wind. Any whisper of movement or a breath taken in too sharply. Eventually she found Hunter hiding up between two trees, his back pressed to one and his feet to the other.

“Found you” Omega says, and Hunter lets himself fall to the ground gracefully

“Good job kid, you beat your record time,-” He ruffled her hair “-go on Echo’s waiting for you at the cave”

“Roger that!” She said and sprinted back to the other side of the island.

Hunter smiled after her, watching her run away. She had gotten fast, really fast. Her comfortability with the lay of the land made her lightning quick. As he watcher her go the pride in his heart swelled. Omega had come so far, and he was proud of every single thing she was doing to improve. It reminded him of seeing his brother progress when they were cadets. Watching them move up from Cadets to “Shinnies” and then to Troopers that were being dispatched every free moment they got. He remembers how Shaak Ti looked at them when they “graduated” she praised them for their effort and progress. It’s one of those memories that stuck with him, and he hoped with his brothers too.

As Omega made her way back to the cave her heart began to race inside her chest. She was ready, she knew that. She had completed all of her tests and done all of her training along the way, but she knew that she had to complete this final test for her brothers to fully see her as capable and as trained as them. For them to recognise her as a soldier the same as them. She knew that didn’t want her to be a soldier that they wanted her to a kid, but she was a clone like them, and she wanted to prove to them that she was no different.

As she stepped into the entrance of the cave she slowed from her run to a hesitant walk, making a slow rotation as she walked further into the cave. She had to wait for Echo to appear, she was listening, preparing herself for the first attack.

And then it came, out from the shadows high up in the walls Echo leaped at her taking a sweeping dive for her legs. She jumped and turned around to face him, bringing her arms up in a guard position. He makes another swift attack for her, and she ducks.

“You can’t stay on the defence forever” he calls to her and her brow furrows

She knows this is her final test, but she worries that she might hurt Echo is she uses all her training. But then again, that is what he wants.

Echo keeps up his barrage of attacks aiming for her head and her arms, leaping around to attack her sides and her back. He makes swiping kicks for her legs, but she is able to keep him at bay. But he keeps encroaching, quickening the pace of his attacks and forcing her to move quicker each time, keeping her thinking on her feet.

She knows the test won’t be over until she manages to knock Echo down but she just can’t bring herself to attack him.

Faster and faster his attack comes, and Omega can feel her arms bruising up slowly, she’s starting to get agitated. She’s never going to complete this test if she doesn’t act now.

So she does, she ducks and hides in Echo’s blind spot kicking in the back of his knees. He buckles and turns on his knee bringing his arm up to block an attempted strike to his shoulder. But Omega is fast, and she takes his arm and pulls it backwards causing Echo to be put off balance and pulled onto his back. She attempts to get on top of him to pin him, but he presses a boot to her chest and pushes her off. He stands up again and she recovers from his attack, he leaps for her as soon as he is on his feet again. But this time she is ready; she grabs his arm as he makes a grab for her and twists her body so his arm is pulled away from her and his chest. Continuing her spin, she pulls him further and with all of her strength she tugs sending him stumbling forward and falling into the dirt. Before he can even stand up again, she has crawled on top of him and subdued him.

She won.

“Good job kid” he said as she crawled off him and offered him her hand and helped him to his feet once more.

When she grabbed onto his hand, she felt dirt and something wet on his hand. When she took her hand away there was a light smear of blood on her hand, looking worriedly at her own hand she grabbed at Echo’s and saw a gash across his palm and gazing on his fingers.

“Oh Echo, your hurt”

“Nah, its just a scratch, I survived getting blown up remember? I’ll be alright kid” she doesn’t let go of his hand and carefully begins to wipe away and pick the larger chunks of dirt from his hand

“You should be proud of yourself kid. You’re officially a Clone Trooper now” He stops her from clearing the debris from his hand and pulls her into a hug instead.

Omega wraps her arms around him and squeezes his middle, she is tall enough now to be able to hide her face in the crook of his neck.

Behind them they heard loud yell and Wreckers voice saying, “Way to go Omega!”

Omega lets go of Echo and the two of them walk over to the rest of the squad, they head back to their home in lower Pabu praising her as they go.

Today has been a good day.

[returnofahsoka]

The Bad Batch Family headcanons, go! ❤🌈

yesyesyes let's goooooo

omega loves helping tech fix things around the ship. she hands him the tools he needs and asks A Lot of questions. tech loves getting questions and he always answers them in detail. and omega just listens so intently and he loves her for that

sometimes tech gets so immersed in his current project that he doesn't notice how late it is (it's usually hunter or crosshair or echo who remind him to eat and sleep at those times). when omega is listening to him explain something and it gets so late that she just dozes off where she's sitting, tech always lifts her up very carefully and carries her to bed

then more often than not, she stirs and looks at him sleepily and asks him to stay and tech just can't say no to her

omega loves being carried around by anyone, actually, but her favourite is wrecker because sitting on his shoulder gets her to be the tallest

wrecker and omega try a new kind of sweets on every. single. planet.

tech has a box of chalk lying around the ship (it's for writing his equations and schematics on the wall, so that they are easily erased later). when omega sees him working on some project, she asks if she could draw on the walls too and then two days later every straight surface inside the marauder is covered with omega's drawings

they tell her stories from their missions sometimes (they try their best to keep them appropriate for a child, of course). wrecker enjoys storytelling the most, he acts out the sounds too - every sound, the droids, the explosions, everything. echo tells her about some of his missions with the 501st. hunter doesn't usually tell her missions, but rather things they did as cadets on kamino. it's from these stories that omega learns more about crosshair and what he really is like and even though they never properly met, she just misses him so much

sometimes omega sleeps in hunter's bunk when she has nightmares. there was one time she woke up and didn't find hunter there, and it scared her. turns out hunter was sleeping in wrecker's bunk along with tech and echo. it was just one of those nights when they needed each other's closeness

of course she joined them in the bunk, somehow squeezing herself in to lie between hunter and echo

actually, every clone loves sleeping in a pile, and the batch are no exception. even as cadets, after a hard day of training or later, after a difficult mission. sleeping in a pile makes them feel safe

when hunter can't sleep, focusing solely on the sound of his brothers' breathing helps him ground himself and fall asleep

when he first joined them, echo didn't know if sleeping together with them would even be an option. he desperately wanted to feel the warmth of someone, especially on the worst nights (the stasis chamber had been cold, so cold) but he guessed he wasn't the most comfortable person to cuddle with, metal prosthetics and all. plus the batch were such a tight-knit group, they probably wouldn't want him anyway

they did want him. it was after a very hard mission, with a few very close calls and when wrecker asked if they could all bunk together that night, no one even questioned that echo was going to be included

he truly felt like one of them for the first time that night. they could not replace his batchmates or his brothers at the 501st but they were his brothers and echo belonged with them

in the beginning, it took him a long time to accept that he didn't need to do everything by himself and that his new squad family was there for him

wrecker was incredibly awkward around echo in those early weeks, because wrecker loves hugging people and punching them playfully but he had no idea how echo would like that after what happened to him. it changed when wrecker got separated from the squad on one of their missions and when he found them again, it was echo who went in for a hug first

when he first moved in, the batch was suddenly facing the problem of having only four bunks for five people and echo was 100% ready for having to sleep on the floor but then tech and wrecker put up a hammock for him. they worried it wasn't gonna be enough, but in reality, echo felt so cared for

the bad batch aren't actually from one batch btw (they aren't even the exact same age) but since none of them fit with their original batchmates because of their mutations, they were assigned in one squad together as cadets. they still refer to each other as batchmates because they have always felt closer to each other than to any other brothers

as kids they were tested a lot more often than the other cadets and failure always meant the threat of decomissioning. it was especially hard on tech who had been even smaller than his brothers as a child and he kept failing the physical evaluations. well, until wrecker started working out with him

wrecker then took up working out with echo when he wanted to build up his strength and gain back his muscles after skako minor. and then he worked out with omega when she decided she was going to get stronger to be able to properly use her bow

every time omega practices with her bow, the batch are reminded of how much they miss crosshair because it should be him who teaches her how to shoot and aim and oh force, they really really need a plan to get him back

echo loves being on watch-duty in the cockpit and gazing out the window when everyone else is sleeping, no matter if they are in space or on some kind of planet. he missed seeing the stars and the sky

before the empire, crosshair would join him in the cockpit sometimes. neither of them talked, they just shared the silence. now it's omega who sometimes joins echo when she can't sleep, and he just scoops her into his arms and he talks - or sometimes sings - to her quietly, until she falls asleep

[not-a-big-slay]

Wish

Bad batch as cadets

Warnings: none

Type: fluff

Summary: The boys as cadets making wishes as a celebration of the end of a cycle

#BADBATCHWEEK2021: Day 6 - Favorite location

tags: @bad-batch-week @bad-batch-week-archive

Raindrops were knocking on the roof while the thunder shined through a small high window. Dim yellow lights were a better choice to have at night, than those bright white ones they had to light their beds. It was a chilly evening, all of them were in beds. Today was the end of a cycle, as Tech informed them. In some systems there was a big celebration of entering a new age. On Kamino, you didn't even notice that a day has gone by.

Maybe it's a big thing for clones that are out in the wild, but not for cadets. Not for the defectives. Tech, Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair were together from the start. As a defective clones, they had to be separeted from others, so they've got their own quarters. Someone could feel lonely, living like this, but not these guys. All they needed was each other. They didn't like the regs anyway.

They were in bed, minding their own buissness like they typically did. ,,Do you guys think they'll ever send us on missions?" Tech and Hunter looked at each other. They didn't know how to answer that. ,,Keep on dreaming, Wrecker'' Crosshair scoffed, ,,They only send regs to the field." He took a toothpick and placed it in his mouth, looking at upset Wrecker. The rain got louder when the silence was casted upon them. After a while, they layed to their sides, attempting to fall asleep. Cross took his toothpick out and threw it on the ground. Tech noted to himself to scold him about it in the morning.

,,That's not fair.." Wrecker said before closing his eyes, waiting for his mind to stop thinking and finally rest. Hunter moved on his back, placing his hands behind him. ,,It is what it is, Wreck..." he stated looking up. They don't know where they'll be send after completing the final trials. They don't know if they'll even complete them. There's a lot of things they have to know, but is it sure that they will be troops? They're defective, so why not just send the normal ones? Why are they even training them? Nala Se told them they are rare and one-of-a-kind, but wasn't she just sugarcoating the truth for them?

,,You can't do anything about it." said half asleep Crosshair that had to have the last word. Tech opened his eyes as an idea entered his head. ,,You can wish for it.." he announced as he was sitting up. Wrecker quickly got up too, his eyes sparkling with hope. Crosshair got up either, however his eyes were sparkling with annoyence. He really thought they can move on from this discussion and go to sleep.

,,In some cultures, people say outloud their wishes at the end of a cycle and believe that they will be granted the next one. It is not proven it works, but you wont lose anything if you'll try." Tech informed them. He read about it and thought it would be a good idea to cheer his friend up.

,,Let's try it!" ordered Wrecker and looked around at his two quiet roommates. Crosshair rolled his eyes lying back down: ,,Okay, make a wish and then shut up." he closed his eyes again, really hoping that he could fall asleep now. ,,It only works if everyone in the room wishes for something." Tech teased and tried not to smile. Wrecker began to nudge Cross and talking him into it when he finally gave up and sat up looking at Tech, expecting him to die under his stare.

Wrecker impatiently commanded Tech to go first. ,,I wish for a new helmet." he said. It's a thing he needed the most. His current one had a crack after he fell down hard at one training. He wished for it a long time and Kaminoans keep promising him one. Wrecker rolled his eyes. It was something he couldn't stop talking about. But he didn't say anything about it being a stupid way to waste a wish, because it was Tech's and not his.

,,Your turn Cross." Crosshair turned to him, making it very clear he's doing this unwillingly. He took a deep breath and looked, relaxed, at Wrecker. ,,I wish I could sleep without being interrupted with your little games." Wrecker's excited smile changed into a serious face: ,,If I didn't have a wish already, I would wish you'd be gone.". Crosshair lied down on his back and allied his hands. ,,Please, wish for that, I beg you.". It soon turned into a fight between them and Hunter, sick of the heavy sarcasm running out of Crosshair's mouth, got up and quickly stopped them. Wrecker looked at Crosshair the last time before ignoring him completely.

,,Now, why don't you tell us your wish, Wrecker." Hunter suggested and sat back down on his bed. He looked at Crosshair laying on his back, listening to them. ,,I wish to fight in a battlefield along with a Jedi master," he shared. Cross shaked his head, but didn't say anything. ,,I wanna be a trooper and be in a battalion!" he continued. Tech nodded and smiled at him like a mom, that knows something is probably not true, but they wont tell their child anyways, only not to ruin his excitment. ,,Congrats, now can we go to sleep?" Since Crosshair asked politely, they lied down, ready to enter the dream realm.

Wrecker however got quickly up. ,,Hunter, you didn't wish for anything." he stated, full of fear that the wishes now wont come true. Hunter thought about it, observing the ceiling of his bed, then got up with an answer: ,,I wish we'll stay together. Not only in the next cycle, but even in the battalion." Hunter doesn't like people and has never let them as close as he has these guys. He didn't wanna lose that. Wrecker was smiling from ear to ear and layed back down. ,,That was the best wish." he said before closing his eyes. ,,Absolutely beautiful." Crosshair joked and turned around to face the wall. Hunter rolled his eyes. Maybe he could have wish for Crosshair to be a less pain in the ass.

While everyone setted to sleep and Tech switched off the lights, Crosshair smiled as he, unknowingly with Wrecker, wished upon the milion stars all their desires will come true. The thunder exploded as their breaths settled and their minds fell asleep.

Here to the next cycle..

[bimormondisaster]

Four times Crosshair helped his brothers and one time he did the best he could.

Hello! This is my first time doing something like this so I hope you enjoy it. I'm still very new to writing and I suck at editing so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Word count: 2,781

Warnings:

Wrecker- Mentions of blood, violence, Hurt character.

Hunter- Mentions of overstimulation and migraines

Echo- Nightmares

CT-9904- That scene from s1 e1 tbb

Wrecker (Cadets, age around 16)

The feeling of the clone’s face against Crosshair’s fist was satisfying. Even after the blood started to cover his knuckles, he kept punching. It wasn’t until the cadet’s eyes closed that he stopped. He let the boy’s tunic go, and he hit the ground with a dull thud. He would wake up eventually and Crosshair would inevitably get punished but right now he didn’t care.

He was alone when he got the com. He was getting cleaned up after some private training., about to meet his brothers in the cafeteria but when Hunter told him that kriffen reg had landed Wrecker in the med bay he changed course.

He made his way to the medbay. Stopping only to wash the blood off his hands. Looking in the mirror he noticed his hair was getting grayer. He wasn’t sure why his hair was graying so early but he didn’t mind it. Wrecker always teased him about it but he thought it made him look more mature.

The med bay door slid open revealing Hunter sitting beside a bed as Tech paced. A droid was hovering over the bed occupied by Wrecker.

Hunter stood as he walked over. “What took you so long?”

“I was busy.” He forced himself to look away from Wrecker’s bloody and bruised form and to Hunter. “How is he?”

Tech answered first. “Under these conditions, there is a 15 percent chance that he will wake up in the next hour, Every hour after that the chance goes up by 7.5 percent until hour five where if he’s not awake by then the chances lower by-”

“He’s going to be fine.” Hunter supplied, sending a comforting smile to Tech. The droid left without a word and the boys settled down. Wrecker’s face was swollen. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, including his eye. Every moment that he watched, that he saw his brother in this state, his fury grew.

“What happened?” He asked through clenched teeth.

Hunter and Tech shared a look and Tech adjusted his goggles.

“No one knows yet,” Hunter said.

His hands tensed into fists. The quickly bruising knuckles protested but he didn’t care. That’s when he saw it. Lula, tucked in beside Wrecker, was looking almost as bad as its owner. One of the ears was hanging on by a thread and a leg was missing.

Without saying anything Crosshair stood up and grabbed the stuffed toy.

“I found the leg in the hall.” He pulled it out and offered it to Crosshair who took it without a word.

Crosshair didn’t know how to sew but he tried his best with the supplies he could find in the med bay. They all waited. Hunter as still as possible, trying to keep the squad as calm as possible. Tech buried himself in his padd and tried to distract himself. Although every hour Crosshair could hear him whisper the new odds of Wrecker waking up.

Crosshair folded in on himself completely focused on fixing Lula. His long legs protested being forced into the chair, his back ached from being slouched, but he didn’t mind. After two hours Lula was all fixed up. It wasn’t what Crosshair would call a good job, but it was the best he could do. He just hoped it was enough.

Tech

If Tech wasn’t dead at the end of this Crosshair was going to kill him. Not surprisingly the job went bad and now they were in a shootout. His scope allowed him to see the chaos in the warehouse from the hill he was nested on. Amongst it all was Tech. Who disobeyed orders and abandoned his cover; running like a kriffin idiot trying to get to the computer.

“Tech get under cover!” Hunter’s voice came through the comm.

“No can do Hunter. If I can just-” Tech was cut off as more droids entered the warehouse, open firing.

Crosshair cursed under his breath and started to pick them off. There was little chance of this mission succeeding but that’s where they worked best. In the midst of the blaster fire, yelling, orders being called, and explosions he noticed something. Another blaster was shooting into the warehouse at Tech who had, so far, dodged the fire purely by dumb luck. He watched carefully, tuning out the bickering in his ear.

A streak of a blaster shot through the air heading for the very clueless Tech who was pinned down. Without thinking he aimed. Time slowed as he watched the bullet fly through the air. His finger tightened on the trigger and in the time of a heartbeat he fired. The bullets collided and went wide, missing Tech who was quickly getting surrounded.

He aimed again, this time at the chains holding up the large doors. He shot. The first chain broke. Reaming at the other chain he fired again. His brothers could handle the droids, He’d handle the sniper. He shot again. The chain rattled but stayed in place. Another shot and the door dropped crushing the few droids underneath.

“Cross what’s happening? Was that you?” Hunter’s voice broke through the wall of concentration he put up.

“Little busy” He replied, moving positions to aim where the other nest would be and waited. One breath, two, three, there. Movement caught his eye as someone poked their head up. His finger tightened and he felt the familiar kick of his gun. The figure dropped and He stood.

By the time grabbed a speeder and made his way to the warehouse the fight was over and other than a few burns and cuts his brothers were safe.

Hunter

Hunter was having another bad day. He didn’t have them as often as he did when they were cadets. He had learned how to suppress it better. Or, Crosshair suspected, how to hide them better.

However, he still had days where he was easily overwhelmed. They all knew the signs. Talking quieter, flinching more, headaches, tensing at the smallest sound, not wanting people to talk or touch him, sitting further away from the group. Crosshair had had migraines before and remembered how awful those were, he was glad that he would never have to deal with increased senses.

Hunter was in the cockpit looking out the window. Everyone had tried to give him as much space as possible so they were making themselves busy elsewhere. He set a steaming cup of the tea he always drank when he had bad days down as gently as possible in front of Hunter and sat across from him. They sat in silence for a time. He watched Hunter slowly sip the tea.

“Thank you,” Hunter whispered

“You should go lay down. I’ll keep the others quiet.” Although he had lowered his voice Hunter still winced.

“I’m okay, We’re almost to the mission anyway.”

Stubborn as always. Wordlessly Crosshair checked the computers, there was an uninhabited planet not far from them. He entered the coordinates and the ship changed course.

Hunter raised a questioning eyebrow and he just gave him a smile.

“Where are we going?”

“Jargon. It’s quiet.”

“Cross I-” He glared at the dash that beeped and sighed. “Thank you”

He hummed in acknowledgment. The mission could wait a few hours, or even a few days, as long as his brothers were okay.

Echo

Crosshair couldn’t sleep. He and Echo had just gotten back to the ship after a week away. Tech, Hunter, and Wrecker were still away and weren’t expected until at least the next day. Why Hunter decided to make him go alone with the new guy was beyond him. He wasn’t interested in making friends. He had his brothers and that was more than enough.

He laid in his bunk staring up at the ceiling. The ship was eerily quiet with everyone being away. As much as he wanted to enjoy it, it filled him with dread. He had grown to love the noise and chaos that came with the bad batch and missed it when it was gone.

He heard movement and was pulled from his thoughts.

“No… No” Echo was murmuring. He sat up and got out of bed to see what was going on. Quietly making his way over he could see Echo tossing in his bunk. His first instinct was to call for Hunter. This was more of his thing. However, that wasn’t an option.

Kneeling beside the bed he put a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “Echo,” Echo responded by getting louder.

“No! Please!”

“Echo!” He shook him. “Wake up.”

The tossing stopped and his eyes opened with a deep breath. He tried to sit up but the hand stopped him. “Rex will come back for me!”

“He already has.” He removed his hand and leaned back to give the man some space. Dealing with nightmares wasn’t anything new. They all had them.

Clarity came into Echos eyes. “Crosshair?” He sat up, still breathing heavily.

“You had a nightmare.” It was a fact and yet Echo looked down ashamed. Crosshair watched carefully as Echo looked everywhere but him. “I’m sorry I woke you.” With that, he laid back down. Crosshair internally cursed both the regs and Hunter.

Nightmares were a part of life for the clones however the regs had something against talking about them. They preferred to keep the pain a secret, pretend it wasn’t there. Why they were taboo to talk about was beyond him. He had spent many nights listening to his brothers talk about theirs and he had spent almost as much time sitting up with at least one of his brothers because of his own nightmares.

While he understood why and even accepted bringing Echo aboard he still wasn’t that close to him and didn’t plan on getting close. He was, after all a reg. A reg who had special abilities now, but a reg nonetheless. He knew that Hunter wanted him to let Echo in the way he had let in his brothers. He also knew that he didn’t care what Hunter wanted. However, as he watched Echo close his eyes and pretend to fall back asleep his heart twisted.

He stood. “Come with me.” Without waiting he walked out of the ship. On his way out he grabbed a blanket.

A few moments after he walked out onto the ship’s ramp, Echo joined him.

“Crosshair? Is there a problem?” He still looked scared. Like any minute he’d be sucked back into his dreams never to return.

“Sit.” Echo did as was ordered. Sitting on the ramp. The black sky was filled with twinkling stars. Cross put the blanket over Echo’s shoulders and sat next to him.

Crosshair was looking straight ahead. “If you are going to be a part of the bad batch you need to learn to accept help.”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Fresh air is the best remedy for nightmares.” He turned to look at Echo. “There is no use in keeping them bottled up.”

They sat there most of the night. Echo told him about his time before being taken, his brothers, his commanders. He told him about Fives and Rex. He told him about his time as an unwilling traitor to the republic he loved.

They both silently promised to not talk about that night again. Echo didn’t want to be embarrassed and Crosshair didn’t want this responsibility any more than he needed to take it. Or at least that’s what he would say if pressed.

The next morning Crosshair was woken up by his brother’s arrival. Their part of the mission was a success. And as the five of them walked into the ship and Crosshair figured that maybe four brothers wouldn’t be so bad.

CT-9904

Good soldiers follow orders.

The rest of the bad batch was in the hanger. Predictable. They always thought they were a step ahead. Now he would show them how flawed their thinking really was. They were cowards trying to run away.

Hunter walked out from behind the crates. Reckless a small part of him thought. He ignored it. He had eyes on Wrecker, Echo, and Omega. All behind the crates. Tech was most likely in the ship.

“Best stand down Sargent,” He said. They were in a standoff and Crosshair knew who would win when the time came. The traitors wouldn’t hurt him. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Hunter replied.

Yes

‘Quiet’

“We should’ve killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders” Why didn’t Hunter follow the orders? If he had just been a good soldier, a good leader, then none of this would be happening.

“I did what I thought was right.” Hunters snapped, stepping forward.

“You never could see the bigger picture.” He shrugged. “Now surrender.”

Let them go.

Hunter glanced back at the group as they prepared for a firefight. Wrecker put his helmet on.

These are your brothers.

“Is that an order?” Hunter looked back at him.

He let out a chuckle. “I guess it is.”

Don’t do this.

“Well, I guess I’m disobeying that one too.”

They stayed staring at each other. Waiting to see who would make the first move. He spat out the toothpick.

Stop, please, no.

‘Quiet,’

His finger tightened as the thunder rumbled. He wanted Hunter to come peacefully. Why did Hunter never listen? He didn’t want to hurt them.

But he would do what he must.

In one motion he lifted his arm, set the blaster on it and fired. Hunter ducked and it hit the ramp of the ship. A part of him was screaming that this was wrong but he continued. The clones he was with open fired. Clone force 99 returned fire and two smoke bombs were thrown. They moved in.

He took aim again. This time using a heat sensor. He let off a few shots then waited. They needed to clear the smoke and when they did…

The sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air as the smoke cleared. Wrecker was in the middle of it and through one of the container lids, knocking some clones down.

Taking aim all he could see was the second one coming for him. He rolled out of the way as the containers fell where he was moments ago.

He aimed.

NO!

He shot, hitting Wrecker’s armour. He’d survive.

This time Wrecker fell. His brothers wouldn’t fall for it but the girl might and if he got a clear shot on the girl Hunter would soon follow.

Sure enough, a blonde head poked out from behind the crates and he fired again. He missed as she was pulled back undercover.

The ship started up. They couldn’t go. They needed to stay, needed to see that this was the right thing.

“Seal the bay doors!” He ordered. The clone to his right. He ran for the panel on the wall.

A light started flashing and a warning alarm beep. The door didn’t shut.

“Sir! Someone is overriding the controls.”

Tech.

He took aim once again. Hunter was giving Omega orders. She would be his target as they tried to leave.

“Only one way out Hunter. Your move.” He said.

Traitor.

The voice was loud and annoying. He shook it off.

He put his finger on the trigger.

“Go!”

Hunter and Echo stood and fired. Moving into the walkway, towards Wrecker. Towards the ship. Moving forward to cover he fired. He made it behind the crates and mentally kicked himself. Why wasn’t he aiming properly? This should be over already.

The last clone fell, hit by the oncoming fire. He turned his head to try and see where they were but couldn’t see them. Only the blaster bolts. He stood and took aim. Hunter was in his sights. This time he wouldn’t miss and he wouldn’t have mercy.

Stop!

His finger tightened on the trigger when suddenly electricity ran through the gun. He watched it drop and looked to where the shot was fired. Standing on the ramp was Omega. Blaster in hand.

He could swear he heard laughing from somewhere inside of him.

He pulled the blaster off of his hip and aimed. Omega shot first. Both the shots missing as he ran for cover.

You’ve lost. Let them go.

The ship lifted off and he ran towards it. Firing. None of his shots hit and soon the door was shut.

He stopped running once they were in space. He put the blaster away and took off his helmet. He looked into space as the mix of emotions bubbled inside of him. They left him. He failed his first mission. He knew Wrecker would live and his brothers would be okay. That’s all that matters.