#tbb ff

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

"I want you there ..."

Tech Grief Ficlette

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Warnings: Sad, Grief.

Summary: A grown up Omega has some news for an old friend.

WC: 661 Read on Ao3

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Omega’s boots crunched along the gravel of the familiar path. It had been a while since she had trekked back to Pabu, now the sea breeze danced about her, caressing her cheeks like a welcome from an old friend. 

Her portfolio case swung from one hand, the familiar broken goggles from the other. She was almost never seen without them. Today though, she was heading to a special place on Pabu… the place she came to talk while she finished growing up. Talk to him. 

The cliff line finally broke, giving her a gorgeous view of the sunset. Brilliant orange, just like the amber glass in her hand. She sat at the rocks edge, opened her portfolio and with a sigh, slipped on the goggles. 

She hit record. 

“Hey, Tech… it's been a while, I wanted to update you on what I've been up to…”

It had been forever since she talked to him like this, panic and dread had set in one day when she realized the internal data storage was running low. She didn't want it to loop and record over anything but today was worth talking to him… formally. 

She pulled out the first etching, a dark umbra alive with bonfires and crude little drawings of people. 

“I've been doing well with the rebellion, we won an important skirmish a few months ago, Partied after harder than Hunter says you guys did… but I guess he might have down played what you boys got up to…”

She trailed off, stroking the figures around the little fire, just to have her hand come away black with sooty medium. She furrowed her brow, and wiped her fingers on her pants before drawing out another sketch. 

“This… well, I was trying to design a call mark for the hull of the marauder… nothing really worked out,”

There were over a dozen half finished figures with exs through them, and scattered notes. It wasn't what she was really after. She looked more carefully through her etchings, finally pulling out one of a full body figure. Their back was on full display and every detail and shadow had been filled in lovingly. 

…

“I'm getting married soon… it's gonna be here, on Pabu. I met them out there and well, life is short on the battlefield… you know that more than any so…”

A lump was starting to form in her throat but she swallowed the old pain gracefully, continuing. 

“I'm planning on wearing your goggles… so you can come to, I just wanted to give you a heads up before… before you were just, walking me down the aisle… I hope that's okay,”

It was nonsense, but it always felt like putting his goggles on and pressing record… it was like Tech could open his eyes again for a brief moment. 

“I was always gonna wear them anyways… Hunter insists he should be the one to walk me, but Wrecker said it was unfair and I think it upset Crosshair too… they're taking turns now. Hunter starts, Wrecker in the middle and Cross'll finish it… but you'll be with me the whole time… I want you there…”

She stopped the recording and whipped the goggles off, squeezing her eyes as a few hot tears grazed her cheeks. It had been a long time since she last cried for Tech, but the heightened stress of the past few weeks left her vulnerable to the old wounds. 

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insisted we go, it's my fault…

She caught the thoughts there, releasing them with a shaky sigh as the cycles of grief lit through her for the life that should have been. Thoughts she'd never be rid of even though she knew they weren't true, almost a comfort that she could still feel his absence so greatly… that she never forgot. 

Catching her breath, she checked the remaining storage. Only a few hours left… 

I hope this is okay … I want you there. 

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[falconfeather23435]

Can we talk about how legendary Wolffe’s entrance was though? Like, the writers knew what they were doing when they had him appear at the end of ep6 like that, with the turn & everything

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Me when someone says they don't like Echo

[the-bi-space-ace]

It has been a little bit since tbb ended and even longer since “Plan 99” aired and I’m still sitting here completely crushed. I miss Tech. I miss him and I’m still so upset and I don’t want to be a complainer but I’m still so gutted by season 3 and *gestures to everything* and I just feel so emotional about it.

[prahacat]

theory on the fluidity of minds and souls

The first three acts of Asajj’s life. A how-to on finding yourself. Experimental prose, 1k words | Read on ao3

How to be a Jedi

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) Child, he says, don’t cry. Here on Rattatak, we are Jedi the best we can. Here’s how to be a temple to each other: brush the red dust from your face before you go to sleep. Brush the dust from his face too. Share the dirty water without flinching, like trusting him comes natural and easy to you. Teach him what to eat, cook for him stews of insects and herbs and if he won’t eat those, tell him you’re sorry, this is all you have. This is all anyone has. Sit and guard the fire while he sleeps; trust him to guard you while you do the same. When you move up north, don’t light a fire at night so the warlords won’t spot you.

(3) Learn to be kind.

(4) When they kill him

don’t rage

don’t rage

grieve

but don’t rage, don’t let it consume you

How to be a Sith

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) All men are liars. So are the women, so is everyone, but the men are more dangerous to you, especially the older ones. Never let him know (he knows anyway). Forget. Never look back. Don’t cry when he throws lightning at you; when you’re alone again, press your fingers against your temples to relieve the headache. Make the silence your friend. Ask questions, but don’t ask too many or the wrong ones; his anger will teach you which are the wrong ones. Watch out for his anger, but learn to watch out for his sharp-edged smiles too. If he offers you food or a weapon, take it; if he gives you a name, hunt them down. If he offers you a glass of wine, sit and drink and look for the lesson: which tool is he trying to shape you into? A blade, a shadow, a shield, a smoke bomb? Be grateful for what you have because he is offering you more power than he offered anyone else, because he thinks you can take the lessons and not fail, the way so many others did.

So this is how you will live: be wary of cups you haven’t filled yourself. Hide daggers everywhere: in your boots, under the folded cloak you use as a makeshift pillow, in your dreams. Keep the holoproj next to your bedroll, make sure it’s always charged, make sure it’s never muted. Here’s a list of essential things you need to have at hand at all times: spare energy cores for your saber, medpacs and bactaspray, stimcaf and sleeptabs, protein wafers in an osmosis pack in case you can’t swallow anything. It’s better not to stare at the stars for too long when you’re traveling. Navigation is all they’re good for. Be grateful for what you have. It’s really all you need: a place for the pain to go and a place to come home to. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same place, and if one day you should catch him pressing his fingers against his temples, pretend you didn’t see. Go skewer some boys instead. There’s that Jedi again: flirt, tease, smile at him with your dewberry-colored lips and painted eyes, so he knows you want to be here, you enjoy what you are. And if you suspect or know that he too has a list of essential things, and that his list is the same as yours, the same as everyone’s these days, don’t let on.

(3) Never forget to hate yourself.

(4) Don’t fall for the blade, it’s not your friend; it will take away everything you own. It’s very simple. He won’t protect you. You can’t protect them. Always expect betrayal; always expect loss.

And when that day comes

—it will inevitably come—

remember your grief and how it was a dull, useless knife to you.

How to be a ???

How to figure out what who you are

(1) Stay alone.

(2) Boil the water before you use it for soup. Strain it and collect the pulp, the gritty dark things you don’t know how to name. Everything tastes like ashes and dust, that’s all you know. Buy some soap and scrub your hands. If you wake with a start in the middle of the night, pressure crushing your chest and your breathing quick and ragged in the quiet of your room, remember to inhale, count to four, exhale, count to four. Lie still and watch the darkness shed from the light. In the morning, roam the markets, buy something against the headache, something to hide your face, something to scrub your hands. When you walk through the streets, pull your hood low. Tell the spice dealers to leave you alone, always stop after one glass of whiskey, tell the men at the corner to fuck off. There will be days when you wake in unfamiliar places; at least try not to have two of them in a row if you can help it. Watch the sunrise. Tell no-one about your past (they know anyway; probably). Always expect betrayal, always expect loss. Forget. Never look back.

(3) Learn to be kind again.

(4) Get some credits, buy a saber; any saber you can find, as long as it’s still alive. Hold it in your hand, gently, feel the worn hilt that has passed through other hands. Were they cruel? Were they kind? Maybe. Did they protect, did they kill? Who knows. It doesn’t matter to you.

Here’s what you need to do to make this saber yours:

calibrate the focusing ring, install a strong core, toss away the parts you don’t need, polish the metal often, swing the saber daily, trust your hand again, close your eyes, listen, be patient, feel how your crystal talks to you, feel it resonate, feel it hum, learn a new language.

Yellow is a good color.

It’s going to take a long time.

[bbgoffic]

I don't like doing WIP posts too often, but like...look at them.

[gonky-kong]

If you think about that scene in Kamino Lost from Crosshair's perspective he just wakes up and is literally about to fucking drown like I'd be pissed off too lmao

[magicandmundane]

ME RIGHT NOW

[chaotic-kitty]

Regarding Techs death.....I think I figured out why I've have difficulties comprehending the idea that he is dead. ((Besides not wanting to let him go / denial))

That's because we literally didn't see a body. We saw his goggles, sure, but that's not actual proof. As far as my brain is concerned, he's still falling (cue loki falling meme). Because that's the last we saw of him. We didn't see him take his last breath, or hit the bottom, or drown, or get crushed, or anything. So because we didn't get to see him actually die, we only saw him fall. My brain just does not understand, doesn't comprehend it. It understood the implications (hence the many many weeks of tears and heartache) but that's about it.

And that's one of the reasons I think I need something more with his story, to prove that he lived or that he did in fact die. Because if not, he'll forever just be falling in my memories 😭

[mcd217]

Why do all of my favorite ships get blown the fuck up???

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

Disgrace Chapter 5 : Crosshair x F!OC

After the night they had these two attempt to clear the air and ask the questions they've been avoiding, but even as Tah'nyem divulges some of her darkest secrets Crosshair can't help but notice the sudden coldness from his traveling companion. He's left with the decision as to whether or not he lets her pull away as they leave the liminal moon, crossing from his world to plunge headfirst into hers.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Mixed Messages, Brief descriptions of assault and murder (past tense), Gambling, Drinking, Mentions of hiring prostitutes, Heights, Kissing and then more kissing, Unwitting PDA. Crosshair holds a small child.

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Authors Note: I was looking this over and found that the first page of this chapter had somehow gotten deleted :') I rewrote it but it has been a weekend fam.

Me: I don't write fluff, no sirree. Also Me:

✨✨✨✨Put the child on the Crosshair✨✨✨✨

Word Count: 7057

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua. She's a damsel, she's in distress- she can handle it.

<-Previous Chapter - Read On Ao3 {START HERE}

Music Inspo- Pleasure, By Justice Listen on Spotify - Listen on Youtube

-+-=Chapter 5 : Pleasure=-+-

I spread the tattered remains of my bag over the bed spread, and turned to the boxy droid I had found above the utilities  

“You think you can fix it?”

01101110 01101111 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101100 01101100 01100101 01101110 01100111 01100101 00100000

A small terminal on its arm flipped to reveal a needle, and with a flash and whir of metal the gap in the luggage was closed. The droid turned, game me a little salute, and collapsed back into its dormant state. You could still see where the rip had been but the stitchwork was good and solid. 

Soft snoring drifted to me from the hall and I looked up at Crosshair’s sleeping shadow in the bottom bunk. 

We had stayed on the beach for quite some time... watching the planet rise.

Eventually the moment ended, Cross gathering our things, wrapping my silk shirt about my shoulders as he ushered us back into the safety of the bunker where we drifted off contentedly to our beds for some much needed, deep sleep.

Looking for more to occupy myself, I opened a few more cabinets around the room, eyeing my father’s emergency wardrobe.Getting an idea I grabbed a pair of suede slacks and a vibrant patterned silk shirt, spreading them on the bed.

“Hey, little buddy, I’m sorry to keep waking you, but do you think you could handle a bigger project?”

The droid peaked out of its folded position to look at the fabrics I selected.

01110111 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100010 01101001 01100111 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01101010 01100101 01100011 01110100

That at least sounded interested.

“Do you think you could take these in to fit me?”

It circled the garments, then looked me up and down. Apparently pleased with its eyeballed measurements it picked up the pant leg, as well as it could, and pushed it towards me.

01011001 01100101 01110011 00100001 00100000 01001110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110111 01100101 01100001 01110010 00100001

That sounded like an affirmative. I took the garments and slipped them on, noticing the light bruising on my inner thighs that suspiciously resembled hip bones. A small smile ghosted over me before I stifled the memories of the night and let the little machine get to work. 

The droid put-putted about on its tiny hover engine, tugging and sewing fabric, a little laser knife trimming where it needed it. 

“You couldn't have done that yesterday?”

I looked up from watching the droid tuck and stitch the waist of the slacks. Crosshair stood in the door frame, scratching the stubble that now covered his chin as he stifled a yawn. His eyes roved over the sleek, black pants suit that was emerging out of the altered materials. It concealed quite a bit more than a draped, oversized button up. 

“Wouldn't that have been a tragedy,”

I turned my attention back down. 

“I'd like to be able to tuck the legs into boots, please,”

He crossed the room to sit on the bed in front of me. 

“Tragedy, huh?”

“Mm, don't tell me you have regrets, Life's too short, my friend,”

“No, no regrets…”

“Something though?”

“... Questions,”

Oh..  

I sighed,

“... Nothing's changed. It would be unwise to continue, you know that… one time thing,”

His eyes seemed to pinch a moment, but it was fast.

“Not… that,”

He reached out, taking my right hand and stroked the small, purple scars barely noticeable on my thumb and forefinger. 

“Who was he?”

Oh. 

“You saw that, did you?”

“Only an idea of it,”

I sighed, as the little droid whistled that it was finished. 

“Thank you … uh,”

I looked at the casing on the little bot,

5T-KH

“Hmm, can I call you Stitch?”

The droid whistled in what I've started to take as a, “yes,” and flashed a little display showing a low battery symbol before it shut into sleep mode once more. 

I sat on the bed, and though I wasn't looking at him I could feel the weight of his gaze. 

“You don't have to tell me, I wanted to ask, just… thought it intrusive, until…”

He trailed off making a vague gesture suggesting, 

“Until, last night,”

Curiosity was an odd look on him, but maybe that's just because I hadn't known him long. 

“Unkles Rah’den and Rah’dheko Kan…”

“Relations?”

“No, I was just encouraged to call them my Unkles, they were long time customers and family friends,”

Silence. A beat, two, and then a whisper,

“What did they do to you?”

It was a rough question, and for a second anger flared over me at his audacity… but I squelched it. I wasn't mad at him, this was an old, sleeping anger.

“It wasn't me… It was Kahtzi,”

He was quiet now, leaving the decisions on how much to divulge in my hands. 

“She thought they were handsome, was always into the super buff type y'know, and uh, asked me to recommend her to them,”

I laid back on the bed to stare at the ceiling, sliding my palms on the comforter to hide how slick they suddenly had become.

“I never got a good vibe from them, but… I didn't think… that,”

I paused, anxiety high, but my voice had gone cold.

“They beat. her… bloody, Cross”

My words, though quiet, hung heavy in the air, my voice thick with the anger that still boiled over the old wound. Guilt and fear and vengeance.

“So, what did you do about it,”

He knew already. He saw it after all, as he looked at his reflection against the shadows in my mind. 

“Widow’s Thistle, it's a native plant on Ga’hah, ve~ry toxi~c… I pretended I didn't know, or just didn't care, about what they did, I seduced them, and once we were alone…I stabbed them with thistle needles.”

I looked over my knee at him as I summarized the murder, I swear a small smile crossed his face. 

“I only saw one,”

“Mm, one of the bastards survived, I stabbed into Rah’Den’s blood stream but lost the element of surprise… Rah’Dehko almost overpowered me, but ended up with an eyeful of toxic needle,

He lived but is horribly disfigured, face all a mess of purple and green veins… bacta doesn't work on skin affected by the toxin,”

“No consequences?”

“No, Vah'hadarr took care of things…”

I trailed off, thinking about my father's past actions and a small wave of fear turned me from chilled to frozen. 

I've been acting selfishly…

I looked at him again, sitting there with elbows on his knees, chin on folded hands. He was staring hard at the wall as if working out the same conclusion.

“Well, I showed you mine… what's your deal, huh?”

“Some other time,”

He got up and went to the fresher, a second later the water was running, and I exhaled long and slow, calming my heart that had, at some point, started to race. 

Well, that doesn't seem fair.

I scooped up the little droid box, putting it back in the utility cubby on its charging port and leaned down to grab the clean laundry out of the wash. The gown was trashed and I pondered pulling Stitch out again but I was in the mood to just abandon it. Crosshair's suit was ready though and I brought it to the fresher, walking in briefly to leave it on the counter. 

“You're suits here, I'm gonna make us some breakfast,”

“Mm…”

It was oddly domestic, this set up, and it was starting to make me uneasy. 

We need to get out of here before this gets out of hand. 

I should have held that thought, as I rounded into the kitchen and caught sight of the data stick blinking on the counter. 

~~~

We prepped to go. The instructions led us to a separate shed with extra fuel, and while Cross made sure the ship was filled, I was grabbing necessities from the bunker. 

All the ready-to-eat food from the kitchen, travel cloaks from the hall closet… What else? 

Oh!

I ran to the utility cubby and snagged Stitch from the little shelf, tucking it into my bag with the extra food and credits. 

All set. 

Confident I was now wasting time, I left, old boots contrasting oddly against the fine fabric of my improvised outfit. They fit, but had a lot of wiggle room and I tried to adjust my gate to the odd sliding feeling, slipping on the stones a few times as I quickly made my way back to the shuttle where Crosshair was waiting. 

The latest set of instructions had us marked to land in the busy port in Nohct City on the dark side of the tidal locked Ga’hah. My father’s good relations in Coruscant had allowed a delay in implementing chain code systems for the tourist port, we can land without registering. From there we meet a transfer who will help us through to one of the edge stations, where we then take the civilian rail to Sohn on the opposite side of the equator mountain range. Complicated, but easier than trying to covertly land directly in Sohn or apparently, send someone to pick me up directly from Nohct. 

Once the moon rotates to face away from its planet, we'd be off. I looked up at the sky now, the massive edge of the gas giant curving across the horizon as it set, still partially blocking the view of the sun. It was almost time. 

I boarded the little ship, dropping the full satchel behind the co-pilot seat and took in the clone lazily reclined in the other, feet on the dash, toothpick in mouth. 

“How long have you been done?”

“Ages,”

“You didn't think to come back for me? Could've helped me carry that,”

I pinched him between the plates on his arm and he slapped back playfully. 

I looked around the dismal little craft. 

Yup, still depressing.

“Everything's ready to leave this place, huh?”

There was an unintended sadness to my tone.

“Almost,”

It must have carried over as a hand slipped around my wrist, drawing me closer to the other chair. 

I knew that look, and resisted, pulling back against the insistent, guiding pressure. 

“What's wrong?”

I sighed, that tingle of fear pricking the edge of my consciousness as I met his questioning eyes. 

“We shouldn't, Once we leave here…”

He tugged more forcefully, and my knees buckled against the chair cushion. I caught myself from falling into him completely, hands finding purchase on the headrest. I had him pinned, but he had the power as he turned my chin down with one hand, tossing his pick aside with the other. 

“For the road?”

…

Kriff it, can't do any more harm…

I leaned down and met his lips, sharing a final kiss before we left our private sanctuary. 

We pulled back slowly after several minutes, a little too hot under the collar to be wise. At some point I had crawled more into the seat to straddle him, the buttons to my top mysteriously undone. 

“You ever been to Ga’hah before?”

It felt silly asking something so basic now. 

“No… tourist trap isn't it?”

“Nohct City sure is, it's where the race track’s located,”

“That I know,”

“You like pod racing?”

“No… that's where we meet our contact,”

~~~

We abandoned the small shuttle in the docking lot, avoiding the attendant droids taking registration and payments while slipping into the throngs of landed people making for the entrance gates to Nohct City. 

Great spotlights framed the gate's pillars, the top of which held up a large arch with carvings of the Three Southern Moons which, if you looked up, loomed large in the sky casting the Southern half of Ga’hah in light and tepid warmth. 

The first impression of the planet was a garish spectacle of bright lights, flashing signs, and various holograms showing examples of the performances held within the buildings they stood upon. 

I noticed Crosshair watching a recording of a towering blue Twi’lek performing an impressive operatic above us as we were swept into the bustling thoroughfare. 

“You want her?”

I had to nearly shout to be heard over the din but he caught what I said and his attention snapped to me. I pull him closer to me to make it easier to talk. 

“She'd normally be above a soldier’s pay grade but… I could get her for you, as a thank you for a job well done?”

He didn't answer, eyes flicking back to the recording with an expression of discomfort. My mind wandered to his goodbye kiss.

I'll be home soon, the mission complete…

“Would it be more tempting if I came along? We could take her together…”

I purred it, and caught the look of surprise I was waiting for. 

Tahny girl, what are you doing?

“Not enough time? Maybe you'd prefer to look me up when you have some leave, back on Coruscant, Kahtzi and I could take care of you…”

The offer was teasing, but there was a hopeful sound to that last part that wasn't a part of the script. A flurry of things passed behind his eyes, his tells were subtle, but easy to learn. I had hit the nerve I was apparently looking for. 

“What about it being a one time thing?”

I need to back off…

“Me and you? Like that? Sure… you have your orders, but your orders only last as long as the mission, right? You can come see me again?”

… That's not backing off. 

I must have reminded him we had a purpose here because he looked back around the crowd. We were jostled by the masses before I could bully an answer out of him and he grabbed hold of my arm, guiding us out of the rushing current of incoming tourists. 

As the path opened up into a wide square I pointed ahead of us.

Framed against the backdrop of the sun lined mountain range, the massive complex that housed the racetrack glowed like a beacon against the sky. 

“That's the track, when do we meet our connection,”

He tapped the data stick and checked the projection against the holopad I took from the bunker. 

“The meetup is in four hours,”

“So time to kill…”

I glanced around the busy square. 

Ah, yes!

“Let's get some caf and cool our heels, yeah?”

“We should lay low,”

I sighed..

“That is laying low, c’mon,”

I hooked his arm and headed to a building off the main corridor, there were groups of spun metal chairs and tables collected under strings of colorful beaded lanterns. Steering for a table with a good view of the square I  fished a handful of credits from the bag still in tow. 

“Here, go grab us something, I'll stay put,”

I crooked my fingers in promise and he hesitated, wanting to protest but unable to find a reason that wasn't petty. Eventually he gave up and asked,

“What do I get,”

I shrugged at that.

“Whatever they recommend,”

He stood a moment looking at the credits in hand before turning to the service counter.

I watched him talk to the Ga'haiian manning the storefront, his shoulders giving away his tension as he leaned on the counter to wait for our order. 

A group crossed my line of vision, and I lost sight of him a few moments as the current ran it's course through the tight aisle between tables. When it cleared however, and I caught sight of the man again I noticed a youngling had broken away from the throng of people and had clung to his leg, mistaking him for whichever chaperone had lost track of him. 

Crosshair jumped, which caused the kid to jump, realizing the clone wasn't the face he was expecting. The child immediately dissolved into tears. 

“Oh…”

I got up to help but Cross was dropping to a knee, still stiff- but with practiced confidence; saying something that slowed the tears and soon the little one was nodding along hopefully. The youngling was answering now, and Crosshair sternly picked him up to sit on his shoulders, making the kid taller than the Ga'haiians speckling the crowd. 

I stayed standing by our table, watching the adorable, if not odd little spectacle play out. He looked good with a little tyke on him like that. 

I caught the soft smile that had started to creep up on me and reset myself into something more neutral. The soldier was pointing to something in the middle distance and the child nodded enthusiastically. They were gone, Crosshair darting into the crowd with surprising dexterity as he delivered the kid back to a pair of panicking adults several paces away. 

He caught me watching him as he made his way back to the counter and I tilted my head in a slight bow raising my hands to give him a soft round of applause. 

My goodness, I think he just blushed. 

I sank back into the metal seat as he was handed two cups topped with whipped foam. One swiftly appeared before me and I flashed him a little sly smile. 

“Good work, soldier,”

“On the caf?”

“On the kid, dummy, looked more natural than I expected… you do that kind of thing a lot?”

“Use to…”

We both sipped our beverages, the bitter acid cut with a sweet, berryish syrup. It was rather good. 

“Is that a story you're willing to tell me?”

“... Maybe,”

Well, that's progress I suppose, but I knew more than he was telling and it was difficult to keep biting my tongue.

And Kahtzi says I'm avoidant. 

“I thought your tattoos were cultural,”

I looked up,

“Hmm?”

“Your makeup,” 

He cocked his head to the Ga’haiian girl behind the counter. 

“They don't seem to have it, or the ink on your arms,”

“Oh… they wouldn't,”

I traced over the fading ink on my wrists,

 “The dedication ceremony isn't really practiced much, I started doing it at some point to be fashionably unfashionable and ended up just… enjoying it,”

“And the tattoos,”

 “These are a practice amongst the nobles of Sohn, most Ga'haiians don't have them,”

…

“You didn't think to mention that earlier?”

“They're not that noticeable…”

His eyes narrowed and darted back to the few visible natives casting unsubtle glances in our direction. 

“I mean it's not uncommon to visit Nohct,”

“We should get off the street,”

“Easy, we're in civilization now, no one's gonna just… jump out at us,”

He didn't ease, instead standing, making an attempt to down the rest of his drink. A feat which would've looked more serious if he didn't get foam on his nose in the process. 

Stifling a giggle I handed him a napkin, standing as well. The man was never completely wrong, and my marks were drawing some attention. 

“Let's go somewhere I'll blend in better,”

I took his arm and started guiding him up the main corridor towards the Grand Casino perched over the prized raceway. It wasn't the only casino lining the massive passage, but if we were to find any congregation from the elitist Sohn side they'd be at the qualifiers banquet. Which, we should avoid, but no one should blink at me wandering around the casino with a bodyguard. 

The building was massive once you were in its shadow. Its front was carved from a solid block of lush blue stone forming sweeping, shallow staircases. Gold inlays were hammered into every step as it led through gates of glowing neon lights blinking a dazzling pattern that would give you a headache if you stared at it directly. 

Crosshair kept glancing at his feet as we crossed the threshold into the massive gambling den. There was an epitaph inscribed on the precious stone foyer in Ga'haiian. 

“By Be'llahl’s Pleasure”

I translated, and he looked up at me. 

“What is Be’llahl the god of…exactly,”

I laughed at that and pushed him further into the building out of the way of incoming patrons. 

“Isn't it obvious?”

We had reached the floor where groups of people gathered around tables of spinning, whirring devices. Some threw dice, some dealt cards, all were engrossed in the thrill of the game. Beautiful men and women of multiple races walked between the tables carrying drink trays to guests and little droids darted about the floor, cleaning up spilt ice and the occasional stray credit. The walls were draped in portraiture of the escorts available and their performance times, many of the faces familiar.

He still looked like he was waiting for an answer, so I gestured to the examples around us. 

“What do you see?”

“Gambling.”

“Mm, yes one indulgence, what else?”

“Booze,”

“And sex, and beauty, and music, and food”

“I don't get it,”

“Be’llahl is a pleasure god, li’nen, specifically pleasure for the sake of it, who gave birth to culture itself… not like any one believes in the old gods these days, more of a mascot really,”

He chewed a toothpick, processing the clanging, bleeping, whirring casino floor, and I poked his side.

“It’s telling you to relax and have fun,”

Getting an idea, I grabbed him again, pulling him into the game pit.  

“I'll show you what I mean,”

I steered us to an embankment I was well familiar with. 

“What's this?”

He eyed the attendant with distrust. 

“You'll like it, watch,”

I slid some credits onto the counter for show and the attendant passed me a basket with three little darts inside. 

The holoscreen flashed and suddenly displayed a starfield. It looked like it went on forever. Buttons on the console in front of me lit up with the chances 1x, 3x, and 5x displayed. I put a single credit in the 1x tray and the screen zoomed in. I could now make out a star system rotating rather quickly, planets and moons orbiting in a predictable pattern with different point values. 

I took a dart, and aimed at a slow moving moon worth the lowest value, hitting it with a generated pop as the physical object penetrated the hologram and buried itself into the game's backboard. The little moon exploded and the value was added to my payout. 

The next shot I took missed, and my points dropped down to zero. Same with the third, and the attendant took my credit while thanking me for playing. 

I never got better at this game, so I shrugged and handed a credit to Crosshair. 

“In your wheelhouse?”

He was already sliding the credit into the highest payout slot and taking the offered darts. 

I couldn't make much out at this level, being zoomed into a galaxy band, the heavenly bodies revolving in still a predictable, but wildly complicated dance. All the targets were small, but the high value pieces were also fast, and often blinked behind other obstacles. 

“Careful now, a negative score will have us in debt,”

He just smirked and tossed the first dart, sending it through a dust belt. It hit its mark true, and the bonus was added to the tally. He caught on quickly. 

A girl came to my elbow and offered me a complimentary spritzer and I accepted, sipping the weak drink and snagging another for Cross, who was letting the bet roll for another round of darts. They'll be free while we're playing and I weighed the idea of getting sloshed at one of the more cushy tables with a low buy in. I set the drink at his elbow and he seemed to sip at it without thinking, quickly engrossed in the game. 

Glad he was relaxing, I stepped a few paces away and scanned the busy Casino floor. Guests lingered about at various betting tables, families steering their younglings away to more age appropriate activities, and security keeping an eye on things. They blended in well, but once you saw them they seemed to be everywhere. 

A group of Katjarls began hissing at each other at one of the bars. Before it turned into a full out yowling match security was already there to break it up. No causing a scene here. 

I turned back to the game bank and nearly choked on my drink as I shuffled back to the counter. 

“Thank you! That'll be all for us,”

I slammed my hand between the attendant and Cross’s outreached one waiting for more darts. 

“What happened to low profile?”

I hissed, taking in the score counter. 

“You couldn't have held back a little?”

My fault, but by Be'llahl I was gone a karken second!

“What's the problem?’

The hair raised on the back of my neck as he leaned down to talk low in my ear. He sounded like he was masking disappointment with an air of irritation. 

“Fleecing the house is not how you go unnoticed,”

“And how would the gentleman like his winnings?”

The attendant had cocked an eyebrow at me, putting the ball in my court as to what to do about the ridiculous payout. 

“What's the charity this quarter?”

“Oh… uh, that would be for the Rebuilding the Ravages of War fund, Miss,”

“Perfect, give us a fifth and donate the rest,”

The Ga'haiian nodded, and winked at the faded ink on my forearms before heading off to count the credits. 

I expected a protest that never came and tilted my head to look at the soldier next to me, armor partially hidden by the cloak we took from the safe house. He was standing in a forced casual position, staring craters into the back of the boy counting out winnings to the far side of the game bar. 

Maybe he needed the cash…

Too bad, I wouldn't want that kind of attention even if we weren't… on the run? Underground?... Whatever. Walking away with that kind of money would have the higher ups in a tizzy. At least donating it helps their taxes so they're more likely to look the other way. We'll need a new way to kill the time.

I tapped his elbow to signal him to wait for the credits and stepped a few paces into the carpeted walkway. There were less bodies mingling away from the bars and tables and a breeze wafted through from somewhere unseen. A small bit of peace in the clamoring din of the game hall. 

“Tah'nyem Ra! Dollface, what are you doing here?”

I spun on my heel, coming face to ruffles with a familiar costume. 

“Jar’ath!”

I hugged the man with genuine enthusiasm, his slight build leaned into me and we kissed each other's cheeks where our tattoos smudged into color. His skin had gone pale, telling how long he'd been outside of Sohn. 

“It's been so long, I haven't seen you-”

“Since you ran off to play ‘Madam’ on Coruscant? Mhmm, I remember,”

He flicked his bangs out of his eyes, the white hair hiding the streak of black over his ear as he fixed me with a faux haughtiness.

“Oh, don't sound so hurt, it's not like you didn't have your own career, What is it these days? I suspect that's why you're here?”

“Stars sake it's why I've been stuck here. It's qualifier season, Ga’hah’s hosting and I'm the MC! Can you believe it?”

I giggled at his outlandish gesturing as he complained. 

“Didn't you always want to host the races?”

“Mm, true, and honestly couldn't be happier, despite Riot Racing having all the draw these days…”

He jutted his chin towards the game counter where Cross was being handed a satchel embroidered with the casino's motto. 

“Who's Mr, uh… scary?”

He trailed off as the Clone sloped over, towering over the two of us as he drew even with my shoulders. Despite the glower in his demeanor I relaxed once he was near again, not wanting to leave him alone long where he seemed so… out of his element. It's like ships or a gunfight were the only places he felt comfortable. 

“Jar’ath Saijen, this is Commander Crosshair of the Imperial Army, he's my guard for the event,”

With my father being given the governorship this wasn't a far off fib. 

“Oh~h, a soldier,”

He extended a hand, all painted blue to the elbow and glittery pink gemstones on the nails. Crosshair took it, shaking it briefly. If the flirty tone registered he did well hiding any reaction. 

“Mhmm, ye~ah, and how long have you been Kriffing little Miss Ra here?”

He may as well have struck me, the way my mouth hung ajar.

“Oh don't look so shocked! I've known you, how long? You're not this relaxed around someone lest you've bedded them, and when have you ever had a bodyguard? Tell me I'm wrong,”

He wasn't, and now turned to size up the clone. 

“You're a tall one, not the tallest, obviously… but how's that work with a shorty like Tah’nyem? Do you use a stool or just avoid shower sex?”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly, making this the second wave of embarrassment in less than a week. I was getting soft. 

Jar'ath let go of Crosshair's hand, who had frozen at the blatant questioning and I moved to redirect the conversation.

“Ah-”

It came out as a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. 

“He's a friend, with the end of the war we have a lot of men looking for alternative work, I'm… gauging interest,”

Crosshair's eyes snapped to mine, but he didn't contradict my story.

“Oh? He's a clone, right? Can tell by the eyes… I'm not sure what the draw would be, you've kriffed one you've kriffed them all, he's different though isn't he… custom order?”

He went to feel up the armor plating, causing Crosshair to tense, but before he could move I was already there- hand wrapped tight around the slim, painted wrist. 

“Watch your tone Jar’ath, I just said this is my friend, try not to be rude… er,”

He gasped in a patented exaggeration.

“Oo, look at you! It's like you care! Does Kahtzi know? She's gonna want a piece once she figures out you like him, like him”

I released his arm, sighing, there was no winning with Jar’ath. He'd been like this since we were young. It was his defense against the other kids who'd try to bully us smaller half bloods. Always the last word, never showing a shred of anything but amusement. 

“I'll kill you later, but for now… where's the best place to get away from the crowd? We've been jostled for what feels like hours and I'm tired of it,”

I glanced at Crosshair. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking, but it was clear he wasn't fond of my old friend. Couldn't really blame him, Jar'ath’s invasiveness was like water in the hot oil that was Cross’s defensive silence. 

“Mm, li’nen, it's your lucky day,”

He reached into his top and pulled out a key card. 

“When the floor manager saw your friend's take piling up he wanted me to escort you to the main box party for the race, I'm guessing you haven't been yet…”

Kark, I knew we had drawn attention…

“Bu~t, you'll never guess who's in with all those nuvvy wuds today, Bly’ju Duhanis!”

I recoiled. 

“Oh, no, please keep me far, far away from Bly,”

“Who's Bly?”

We both turned to look up at Cross, who had spoken for the first time in the exchange.

“Oh, sweetie he's one of little T’s suiters, isn't that right, Tah’nyem?”

“The most irritatingly persistent one,”

I groaned, thinking of the incessant holocalls that had me changing registries more than anyone would ever think to. 

“You know, our big strong Commander could probably knock some fear into the boy,”

Jar'ath once again made to push up against the fitted armor only for Cross to step out of the way. 

“Discretion, for once Jar'ath? For the love of Be'llahl?”

“That is blasphemy, little T, it's my pleasure to be as I am and do as I do, yes?” 

“Would that infringe on my pleasure? Which may come to a crashing halt if it fell to the wrong eyes or ears?”

I glanced pointedly at the taller man, once again quiet but had shifted to stand closer to me and slightly more hidden from Jar'ath. 

“Uhg, fine, but only because I love you and I already solved the problem anyways,”

He jiggled the key card. 

“For high rollers like you, I convinced them to give me an unused key, you want privacy, I have you more then covered, Just be grateful I recognized your ass from all the way over there,”

He put the key card in my hand, and leaned in to kiss my forehead. 

“Gotta run, the show's about to begin!”

And with an exaggerated bow, he was gone, the flamboyant fabric of his costume getting lost amongst the garish tourist chic pouring through the hall towards the arena where the day's qualifier races would soon be starting. 

I turned to Crosshair and was startled to find him staring at me rather intently. 

“What? What's the look?”

Not waiting for an answer I started moving us in the direction of the stadium seating looking for the number on the key that would indicate floor. 

“You didn't even try to deny it… us,”

“There's no us, Wouldn't have been much point anyways, Jar'ath is the best cold reader in the business, practically clairvoyant, and he's known me longer than most so I'm particularly easy,”

He leaned into me, breathing against my hair as another group shoved by us on the way to the glowing stairs at the back of the game hall.

“So you do like me?”

I faltered from my relaxed stride and he chuckled. Sending him a cold glance we started up the stairs to the private balconies. 

“So, if he knows you so well, why didn't you tell him the real story?”

The amount of people around us thinned as we ascended to the more expensive seating levels, eventually coming out into a quiet, empty hall. Plush carpeting muffled our steps and I lowered my voice.

“Well, didn't want to tell him much, its difficult to lie to him but he knows I wouldn't put much effort into covering up a tryst besides what's expected of me, hopefully he just thinks that's all I'm doing,”

Not like he'd sell me out to assassins, he would just find my present circumstances more amusing than my sex life… and he’s a varp of a meddling gossip.

“Hide… trysts often?”

“I think I just said I didn't, but what you really seem to be asking is how often there's a tryst at all.”

We had come even to a door emblazoned with a matching symbol to the key I was holding. Some of his behaviors were starting to make a pattern and I brimmed with irritation.

“I told you before, not as often as people would like to believe… If I didn't know better I’d say your words hold a tinge of jealousy,”

I pressed the key to the reader with a huff and entered the empty box. The balcony was wide with small tables scattered about, plush chairs tucked in. It was dark and I left the light off, not wanting to draw any more attention to us alone up here.

“Would it be wrong… if I was jealous?”

“You'd be a fool to form such a feeling about me, We knew this wasn't something that could continue… this story doesn't have a happy ending,”

I felt his arms weave about my shoulders, gently pulling me against his chest.

“I don't care about the ending…”

I blinked rapidly to chase away the heat that suddenly stung my eyes. Illogical reaction, there was definitely something wrong with me these days. Shrugging his arms off me I pulled away.  

“Foolish,”

The divider overlooking the track was a low, sturdy stone and I leaned against it looking down to the checkered line where a horde of racers were standing by their pods waving to the crowd. Jar'ath could be heard over the cheering masses as he introduced each entry, little droids flew about, buzzing to each contestant. Giant holo screens showed the projections, flashing between the smiling racer and shots of their supporters in the crowd. 

Crosshair approached me slowly, sliding into the soft light filtering in from the stadium and leaned next to me with his back to the crowd.

“Forget the end, What about now?... You and I…”

“You and I still have our duties, there's no escaping that,”

My tone remained one of admonishment, eyes casting about the other lit boxes on our level. 

Even if we do see each other again…

“There,”

I pointed across the way to a crowded balcony. It was a few floors down but open to the sky, creating a larger banquet space framed by the backdrop of mountains. At its center booth, a handsome Ga'haiian sat in a white suit. Tall, tan, pure white hair slicked back and falling over his shoulders. Women lounged about, giggling and hanging about his neck trying to steal a kiss. The people around him were obvious sycophants, latching to the wealth and power, but the man didn't seem to mind. 

Crosshair followed my gesture, catching as the man poured a sparkling bottle of something over the head of a fawning girl and laughed. 

“That is my suitor, Bly’ju Duhanis, son of the richest family of Ga'hah and the galaxies most pompous idiot,”

The poor drenched girl smiled weakly as Bly moved his attention to the wait staff, knocking a tray out of one of their hands as he demanded more bubbly.

“Charming,”

“Isn't he? I hate the man… everyone knows that I despise him, and yet he's most likely to be my future husband, eventually he'll make my father an offer he can't refuse, his family can make almost anything happen and he feels… entitled to me,”

“Any particular reason?”

He was only half listening, a wandering hand bringing cool fingers to trace the lines on my forearm. 

“Stood up for me once when we were kids, he got a broken nose and now considers it a blood debt, ignoring the fact that he turned to bullying me and my friends as an immediate reaction,”

I pulled my arms closer about me and away from his touch, adding a bite of accusation to my tone,

“And then there's you… what do you think the Empire will do when they find out you let them escape? ‘They won't be able to hide forever,’ right? It rings in you over and over,”

He stiffened, his hand that reached for me faltering. 

“Oh come on, we're already neck deep in Secret Town here, how about we go over some of yours?...What's the plan once the Empire realizes they're alive? Will they just ignore it, or shove you into a cell never to be seen again?... Perhaps they'll just kill you.”

The events had been laid clear in his mind, the thoughts well tread as he went over them again and again, betrayal begetting betrayal. It wasn't easy to forget. 

“That's not for you to worry about,”

He pushed off the barrier and moved behind me, arms forming bars against my sides as he leaned in again. 

“I said I don't care how it ends,”

But if we keep doing this… I will. 

He was nuzzling into my hair, keeping the contact light, whispering so that his lips barely brushed against my ear.

“I may never come back… I could die tomorrow, you could too… but that still leaves tonight,”

He was using my own sentiments against me.  

I turned to face him, hips backed to the stone, arms weakly pushing him away, but my resolve was slipping as he refused to back off. His persistence remained gentle, as if to still the frightened animal he saw struggling behind the eyes that were avoiding his. Another light touch, a stroke of my cheek, turning my chin to meet his gaze as he had on the crimson moon. 

“Tell me then, that once was enough, tell me your satisfied… and I'll never ask again,”

I don't know when the script had switched, my position as predator slipping away as I felt the web of him close around me. Suffocating.

His boot suddenly kicked mine out with a quick hooked motion, forcing me into a wider stance as he leaned in, holding my gaze. Those strong fingers now tracing a trail up the inseam of my suede pants. 

A whistle pierced the air as the racers shot ahead on the speedway with a chorus of roaring engines. The onlookers were now reliant on the screens projecting feeds from the blind curves of the track as the roar echoed and dulled. The sudden rush of noise and excitement from the crowd shook me with adrenaline.

He didn't let the rush go to waste, letting his thumb caress just inside the crease near my groin, causing a wave of heat to crash onto the cold chills running down my spine. It was just a brush, a tease, serving it's purpose of relaxing my inhibitions. 

“Don't make me wait forever…”

“Implying that you would?”

“Life's too short for regrets, that's what you said isn't it?”

…

“Tahny…”

Sighing in resignation as his hands slowed, sliding up to rest on my hips, I hesitantly leaned my head against his armored shoulder, breathing him in to ignite the sparks he was stoking within me.

He had me. 

Fine then…

I leaned back, stroking his cheek… holding his eyes with mine as I crooked my fingers in promise, pressing the symbol to his chest. 

“For whatever time we have, you, CT-9904 Crosshair, may have of myself, Tah’nyem Ra… as you like,”

“By Be'llahl?”

“... By Be’llahl,”

I was lifted to sit on the edge of the stone, his arms bracing me so I needn't fear falling as his lips found my neck, planting little kisses under my ear. 

“As I like?”

Here's to recklessness and bad decisions…

“As you like,”

Letting myself give in, I wrapped my arms over his shoulders, bringing my lips to meet his and allowing the world to fall away again. 

He was pressed to me, nothing but air to my back as the kiss deepened, becoming more possessive as the warmth of his tongue dove between my lips, searching desperately for mine. I wrapped a leg about his hips to keep steady, trusting him not to pitch us over as I answered his desperation with a soft moan. 

Pulling away to find my neck again, he alternated between soft kisses and sharp little nips between my ear and the collar of my shirt… I had to resist breathing his name with each little jolt. He had shifted to hold me steady with one arm, his dominant hand set to exploring again, up my chest and into my hair. 

I was frustrated at the thick plates over his shoulders and slid my hands to his ribs, curling my fingers into the sole gap to tug at him. He bit my neck slightly harder, making me gasp, before moving back to kissing me, hand still holding me still by my hair. 

This was different than before… an odd bliss to it, only broken by a quiet, buzzing that had slowly crept up to us. The crowd below had broken into wilder cheers and jeering. 

Our attention snapped to the small hover droid, scanning us onto holo screens under a gaudy, romantic banner. Jar'ath was saying something about a cutest couple award, suddenly finding himself at the top of my hit list. 

I did my best event smile and wave routine as Cross and I slunk back into the shadows of the box. The screens were now zoomed in on Bly, shaking and furious as the desperate girl attempted to lean in for a kiss. The camera cut as he turned to storm off, pulling his security in tow as he went.  It was safe to say he probably recognized me. 

Great, more people on my tail.

“Cross, can you see the announcer booth from here?” 

“Yes…”

“Shoot Jar'ath for me,”

He grinned at that. 

“My pleasure.”

[falconfeather23435]

YALL WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT

YES THIS IS ABOUT THE BAD BATCH

NO TECH AS CLONE X REVEAL? TECH ACTUALLY DIED IN SEASON 2? WE WERE BAITED? HEMLOCK DEAD, NALA SE DEAD, RAMPART DEAD, SCORCH DEAD, ADULT OMEGA FLYING FOR THE REBELLION, OLD MAN HUNTER, CROSSHAIR GETTING HIS SHAKY HAND CHOPPED OFF, I’M ILL

WHERE DID LAMA SU GO? WHAT HAPPENED TO ECHO, WHY WAS HE NOT ON PABU AT THE END? OMEGA ONLY MENTIONED WRECKER & CROSSHAIR, WHY DIDN’T SHE MENTION ECHO? DID THEY ACTUALLY HAVE A CLONE REBELLION? WHEN DID WOLFFE DECIDE TO GO AWOL & WHEN DID REX FINALLY DECIDE ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH & PUT DOWN HIS BLASTER & PULLED UP THE AWNING ON HIS AT-TE?? WHAT HAPPENED TO HOWZER, WHERE DID HE GO? WHERE DID CODY GO? DOES OMEGA VISIT HERA DURING THE REBELLION? DOES HERA REMEMBER HER? DID THE FORCE-SENSITIVE KIDS MAKE IT BACK HOME? DOES PHEE STILL VIBE ON PABU? DOES CID EVER REPENT FOR WHAT SHE DID? DO THEY EVER GET IN TOUCH WITH HER, DO THEY EVER FORGIVE HER? WHERE IS LULA? I AM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE PLEASE I NEED CLOSURE ON MY BURNING QUESTIONS

I miss them already

[feltpool]

He’ll be back!!

First they dress him to resemble Grievous, BD-1, etc

Then they give him Ash’s dialogue from Alien

Now they’ve made him look like the Terminator

(I’m dying here 😂 )

[zoeykallus]

I feel the urge to write stuff about Tech, but there is so much else I have to work on 😵

[okadiah]

So this week's Bad Batch episode gutted me. Once again, I'd love it if Filoni would leave the clones alone. If he'd like, I'd be happy to take custody of them, emphasis this week on Crosshair.

[moosethren]

I really wish I could be as excited about S3 as I was about S2 but I can't and it's really annoying. My Fave character is dead and he was the only reason I was still watching the show. And my second fave isn't doing any better.

It sucks having your comfort show become something negative.

And no, I won't be watching it for the obvious reasons above.