#tbb: burn

[thecoffeelorian]

The Bad Batch: Burn

Title/Series:  Burn/”The New Aftermath” Category: General Word Count: 2,181 AO3:  Link Here Summary:   A tale in which two family members are rescued; one believes themselves to have been abandoned by everyone; four more find themselves at a loss; and the sixth refuses to stand by a moment longer. Inspired by 1x08; various Tumblr posts; and a few narrative promises that the writers seem to have forgotten. Special Tags: @omegathebadbach​

Burn

There's someone new in the medical center today. A very important someone, or so I guess to myself as soon as I hear shouting and running toward the tents. I look up slowly not knowing what to expect, only to see exactly four flashes of red, white, and black rushing at the incoming ship. I start rushing in after them, too, because there's only one reason Hunter would start yelling into his comm like that.

He's coming.

He's coming, and they're bringing him to us. Some more rogue clones who got freed of their chips and who managed to break in and out of Kamino before things got too hot, or so the voices over the lines tell me. I don't need to hear any more than that, though. None of us do. We just know that he's here, and that we need to see him. We're going to see him, and maybe we can also--

"--Stand back! Move away, this one's a security risk!"

What...?

A risk?

No, no, that can't be right. They remembered to take the inhibitor chip out first, didn't they...?

Someone begins forcing us out of the path of the stretcher with a sweep of their arm, Wrecker protests, and three more medics start pushing us all back. They're even setting up barriers now, one on each side leading to the nearest tent. What's going on? Why can't we go to him?

"Hunter...?!"

He doesn't have any answers for me. None of my brothers do. We can only watch in a horrified silence as we finally see him, and--oh no, what's happened? Is it gone? Or do they have to get it out right here instead...?

I don't have much time to look, but I think I see that little white bandage against his brown, weathered skin as they rush past us. I think someone's finally taken it out, which is really, really great, but--but that's not all that I see. That we see.

He's bandaged in at least three places, there's signs of broken bones, and--and we can't see much more than that, but I think we can already guess what happened after we saw each other last. After half of us almost died.

It's so much worse than we thought, and something tells me this is just the beginning.

......

They make us wait outside the tent for what feels like hours, but once the medics give us the go-ahead, we don't waste any time going inside. I don't waste any time, because there's so much I want to tell him, and I'm almost running to his bedside, and there's a big lump of feelings that want to make me hurt from the inside out if I don't decide to share them. Wrecker's got my right hand, Hunter's got my left, and Tech and Echo lead the way just in case anyone needs them to pitch in. A part of me hopes that they don't have to...but then again, none of us knows what we'll be seeing in there. We'll just have to be ready, no matter what.

"Cross...? Are you awake?"

Hunter's the first to speak up, a soft question sent out to try and get this reunion going. He's been worried about everyone lately, so the fact that we're all out of the Empire's reach--at least at this moment--must have brought him some relief. I squeeze his hand just a little to reassure us both that nothing bad will happen here. That we can talk this out a lot better than last time, that there won't be any more fighting, and that we can help Crosshair start to get better.

When I lean in a bit closer to try and see his face, though...that's when the smells come. There's the metallic smell of blood and the smoky smell of burns and--oh no, are those the IV drips...? He's hurting. He's hurting so very much, and I can't see his face because he's in a darker corner of the tent, and I really wish I could--

"...Don't act so damned pleased with yourselves."

Oh, no...

His words burn my skin just like the heat of that engine. He knows that I'm here, that I'm standing close by, and that he hates every single minute of it. It takes almost all of my nerve to try and talk back, but just the same, my voice shakes.

"C...Crosshair...?"

One second later, he lets out the coldest laugh I ever heard, and the burning turns to ice.

"So, you do remember me. How comforting..."

Oh, but he's testing me somehow. I can tell by the edge to his voice, and the way he's got to be facing the canvas even though I can't see that much of him. Is he angry at me? Or is he just using me to get to Hunter...? I can't tell. It scares me that I can't tell.

"Do you remember me, though...?"

Just the same, I try. I already know that he's sedated from the color of the drips, so any movements he makes will be a bit slower than normal. I also know that there's one restraint peeking out of the shadows on his right-hand side, so he can't attack. And third...there's no way that anyone else in this camp would let him pick up a weapon just yet. Not when we don't know how he would plan on using it.

"Do you remember how I tried to help you? Or am I another traitor, just like our brother said--"

"Don't. Say. His. Name..."

There's more ice from him, only this time, it feels like it's crumbling down on me from above. He doesn't like how close I've gotten to Wrecker. He might even feel a little, well...jealous of me. At least, that's what this sounds like.

"Why not?!"

Wrecker's not about to take this from him, though, because he's not afraid to take a step closer. I'm going to get a little closer, too, if only to try and keep up with him.

"I'm right here, same as you. I lost myself t' that chip, same as you--"

"--Don't say it, Wrecker--"

"--So what's with the bad mood? You're not the only one here who's had problems--"

"--Shut up, Wrecker--"

"--And you can quit pickin' on the kid, too, she's not the reason you're here--"

"--'Not the reason I'm here'?!"

That's the moment where, no matter how much he's sedated, Crosshair lets his anger down on us like his own brand of explosives...and all five of us flinch.

"You go off on your little joyride around all three Rims, you take her with you and you don't bother looking for me, and now...now you tell me, 'she's not the reason I'm here'?"

More cold laughter from his corner spreads through the entire tent, and we're all feeling its chill. Nobody else dares to speak up. Nobody knows how to...and even if we could, I don't know what in the galaxy we could say that would heal this hurt.

Unfortunately, it sounds like Crosshair's finally done with listening.

"Well...you take a nice, long look at what she's done, and see how much you like her then...! "

He's not done talking to us just yet, though, because the next thing we see--

--Oh no, oh no, oh no no no--

--is the sight of his eyes, once a dark shade of bronze, but they've been burned out--

“--Wrecker, get her out of here, it's too soon--”

--Burned out to a bright chrome, not focusing, not seeing a single thing--

“--ARE YOU PROUD OF HER NOW--”

--and suddenly, there's a lot of screaming and the medics are running back in and--

“--ARE YOU PROUD OF YOURSELVES? IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED? TO GET RID OF ME AND PUT HER IN MY PLACE?!"

-- Hunter and Wrecker are taking me out of there and I don't know what to do--

“--LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE! WHAT YOU'VE ALL DONE TO ME!"

--I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do--

"RUN AWAY, DAR'VODE! RUN AWAY! RUN LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO!"

--Except hide.

We go off together to hide until his rage finally breaks...but not without hearing all of his curses echo in our minds. Not without feeling the burning go on long after we've walked out of the fire's path.

Run away, dar'vode.

Run away.

Run like you always do.

I hate not knowing how to help.

......

It goes on for about ten minutes more, the howls and curses of a broken man who believes he's got nowhere else to go but down, down into the pit of his own misery with no way of getting out again.

I don't know if he knows that Tech and Echo are still right there with him, desperately trying to get through his walls any way they can...or if he does know they're still there, and just doesn't feel like caring any more. That they're as good as dead to him, if not also the other way around.

I don't know what they must be thinking when the screaming ends, or how they're feeling after it's all over. I don't know if Crosshair pulled out of his restraints, or if they just had to tighten them a bit more. I don't know what to say to Wrecker or Hunter to get them to smile again, or how to keep myself from tearing up. I just know that it's ugly, and that his screaming sputters down into laughing and crying, and that my hands are shaking when there's finally quiet. Everyone else must be shaking on the inside, too, because I see the way they glance at each other when they're all out of the tent.

They hate everything about the Empire now, and I'm right there with them.

I also know that as of five minutes ago, we're lost.

We're stranded on a planet that we might not ever get to leave, because others will be looking for us no matter what.

We still don't have a single credit to our names, and there's probably no more hope of work since we failed our last two missions.

We can't even seem to get along with each other any more, because outside of Crosshair's rage, nobody knows how to find any hope coming from this. Echo won't even look at Hunter any more, Tech looks like he's planning an Imperial murder, Wrecker's about to break down any second, and Hunter himself...oh no, he looks like he wishes it had been him who was taken first, and not Crosshair at all. Maybe...maybe he's thinking of trying to undo everything that happened all on his own, if only to fix things for everyone else with himself as the price paid.

Maybe if the rest of us aren't careful enough in the next few days, he just might try and turn himself in to the Empire if it means saving the rest of this squad. Saving all of his family this time, even if he couldn't do it before. I can guess this from the pained look in his eyes, and I don't like the thought of what this could mean for everyone else.

For good or for bad, I don't think I can just keep standing by and watch my squad hurting like this. Not the ones who have already helped me so much, but also not the one I should have helped twice as much, but didn't. I know this now, even if it took me some time to figure it out. I might not have been the one who forced him to attack his family, but if I don't tell him what I heard before I was also taken off Kamino--that my rescue team was the same one who took him out of harm's way, even if they did have to split into two teams to do it--then I'll be the one who refused to help end this. I'll become the one who stayed silent, and allowed him to hate his squad for the rest of his life...but only if I don't speak up, and fast.

This is exactly what I need to do to fix this, if not to fix the others' problems as well.

So, Crosshair...when we talk again in your tent--and there will be talking, whether you want to hear me out or not--you're going to learn the truth. You're going to know how your brothers really feel about you, how we always planned on getting you out when it was safe enough, and that nobody, nobody, planned to throw you away for my sake.

And once you've listened to me enough--really, really listened--I hope you can find a way to calm that burning fire inside you.

Clone Scout Omega, 19 BBY

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello friend 👋 wasn’t episode 4 of tbb amazing?? I’m loving this season. Wanted to pop in and request a fic - you know how when you’re walking your dog and everyone has to stop and say hello to the dog bc obvs. Can you do something like that but it’s crosshair walking batcher and reader stops to say how cute but then crosshair gets jealous of batcher getting all the love lol

Dog Days

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- You met Crosshair while he was taking Batcher for a walk. Passing your house quickly became a daily task you all looked forward to. Is it wrong to say you caught feelings for him? And was Crosshair really jealous of the attention you gave Batcher?

A/N- Hey girl! Sorry your request took so long to get around to. I didn't forget you! I want to personally thank you for all your kind words. I always see your liking and commenting on my works! This was such a cute idea!!! Crosshair is definitely the 'dad who didn't want the dog, but now loves it' guy. Thanks for requesting!

Word Count- 1,409

The scurrying of paws on tile caught your attention. You raised from your bent position, having been watering your plants outside your home.

You turned just in time to see a various colored blue animal running your way. The figure and attitude of it reminded you of a dog, but you were sure it wasn't.

The closer it got, you realized it was not slowing down. With a hiked breath, you squinted your eyes and prepared for impact.

"Batcher, stop!" A males voice rang out.

Just as commanded, the animal stopped at your feet. You opened your eyes to see it now sitting, tongue out. You blinked, heart still pounding.

"Sorry." Said the man, which you recognized as Crosshair. Him and the rest of his brothers had come back to Pabu after rescuing Omega.

"No, it's okay. Really, he seems sweet." The animal jumped to its feet as you reached a hand out. Your hand was soon met with slobber, as the animal licked you again.

"She."

"Oh, sorry. She seems sweet." You crouched down to her level, now fully petting her. You gave out a laugh as she now nuzzled into your face.

Crosshair crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. You took the hint.

"I guess I'll let you two get going. Have a nice day!" You stood, much to Batchers dismay. She already had a liking to you. She reluctantly followed Crosshair when he turned and walked away.

Only a day passed until you saw the two of them again. This time you had been leaving a neighbors house, needing some flour.

You of course, saw Batcher running down first. Crosshair slowly following. She barked at the sight of you, you didn't get scared when she ran at you this time.

"Hey girl!" You called out to her, but what you didn't expect was for her to actually jump on you.

It wasn't painful, but she did manage to knock the small bag of flour out of your hands. She had you playfully pinned under her, licking whatever she could.

The flour was also on top of you, and her, and the surrounding tile.

You gave out a cough, a white puff leaving your lips.

'Batcher, off!" Crosshair was frustrated at the scene. He had watched the whole fall.

Batcher didn't understand and happily ran over to him. You were still on the ground, slightly embarrassed at the turned heads.

A hand reached down to you, you grabbed it. Crosshair easily pulled you up. His strength took you by surprise.

"She hurt you?" He asked.

"I'm okay, I think most of the impact was on my butt." You rubbed at your hip, a dull pain arriving. It was going to bruise.

"How much flour was it?" He didn't seem to really care how you were doing.

"Uh, I think five cups? I was just borrowing it from my friend."

He hummed, Batcher was still at his side. She was awaiting his next command.

"It's fine, really. I know she didn't mean to." There was an awkward air around.

"I'll bring some tomorrow." Was all he said before turning and walking off.

He did bring the flour the next day, a bag double the size of what you had. You gave your neighbor her portion and put the rest in a jar.

You profusely thanked him, but he brushed it off and continued his walk.

To show your gratitude for the extra flour, you baked him a dozen cookies. You wrapped them neatly and carefully waited to see the two of them.

You found ways to busy yourself outside, trying not to make it obvious you were eagerly waiting for Crosshair. Oh, yeah and Batcher.

Upon hearing a bark, you ran inside to grab your fresh cookies. You raced back outside just in time to see Crosshair standing. He had his head turned, looking around. Was he looking for you?

"Crosshair?" His head shot your way.

"I baked you some cookies! As a formal 'thank you.'" He just looked at you, so you raised the cookies to him.

"Thank you." He said, fighting a smile.

"What did you say your name was?" It was your turn to smile at his question.

You promptly told him, trying not to grin too big.

He nodded.

"T-Theres enough cookies for the rest of your brothers, and Omega." You informed him. At his look, you felt your cheeks getting hot. He probably felt weirded out that you knew everyone's name, especially since he just learnt yours.

"Sorry..." You didn't even know what you were apologizing for, but you felt guilty for making things awkward once again.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, so don't apologize." His words were cold, but had a sense of affection in them.

At the new silence, you figured it was time to part once again.

"Have a good day, I hope you like the cookies." He actually waved this time, glancing over his shoulder to see you smile and wave back.

With each day that passed, you slowly got closer and closer to Crosshair and Batcher. Passing your house seemed to be on their daily walking routine.

A minute spent passing your house turned into taking a twenty or thirty minute break. You'd hold and play with Batcher while talking with Cross. It ranged from the weather to nightmares. You both found yourselves opening up to each other.

You quickly grew feelings for Crosshair over the weeks passed.

There were times you thought he felt the same, but the second you might have confessed or leaned in for a kiss- he'd change the subject. You just accepted that he didn't like you in the way you liked him. It hurt but you couldn't force feelings onto him.

You had started to notice that when you giddily ran to Batcher or held her tightly, Crosshair curled his lip- or gave out a glare. You picked up that he might be jealous of the attention you were giving her. Though, why would he be jealous if he didn't have any feelings for you?

It came to be a few minutes past two o'clock. Crosshair would be coming down any minute now. Though, your pesky bladder had you quickly running back inside.

When you came out, Crosshair was sat on your front porch. Batcher was at the ready, panting and hyper.

You greeted her first, dropping to your knees. She was more playful today, not leaving you alone.

"Oh, you're such a good girl!" You scratched behind her ears, she closed her eyes and wagged her tail.

You continued to play with her, she was rolling and doing tricks for you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Crosshair stand. He crossed his arms, a scowl on his face.

"Such a pretty girl, so cute." You announced praises at her. Though not on purpose, you ignored Crosshair. She was on her back as you rubbed her belly.

"Why don't you get a room." He remarked, now obviously jealous of Batcher.

"Don't listen to him, Batcher! He's just grumpy and jealous." You were getting brave with your comebacks.

"I am not!" He was getting defensive.

"Shh, it's okay Batcher. Your dad is pretty cute too." You said, nuzzling her face.

"I am not her dad and i'm n-" Your words registered in Crosshairs head, the same time they did in yours.

You moved away from Batcher, the mood changed. It was silent for a moment, you looked at the ground.

"Okay I'll be leaving now." You stood to your feet, about to die of embarrassment. That was until Crosshair grabbed a hold of your wrist.

He forced you to face him. "Why?"

"Well gee Cross, I don't know. Maybe because I just said the dumbest thing ever. You think I don't know the feeling isn't mutual!" You confessed.

He stared for a moment, hand still gripping your wrist. You could tell he was contemplating something. That was until he made the last step forward and kissed you.

You felt light as a feather. He did like you back!

You could feel Batcher rubbing against your leg, but payed no attention to it. You were too lost in the kiss.

The two of you held each other, not puling away except to gasp for air.

"I guess I was wrong?" You panted out.

"You were far from being right." He just pulled you back in for another kiss.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am so appreciative for your sweet comments HayBelle! Please let me know if there is anything you want changed in this fic!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

[somewhere-on-kamino]

He doesn’t like the heat

[nahoney22]

Okay but was Crosshair’s chipped actually removed? We saw it get enhanced but never physically removed…

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 7

Part (7) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Gonna call this the halfway point, maybe

Warnings: impatience toward a child (kinda? I mean, yuh know... Crosshair), guilt, medical procedure/ gore, fantasy profanity (that warning always makes me giggle), sexual innuendo ish, gonna also add romantic tension because it's not really sexual tension, self-depreciating thoughts, body horror

WC: 3,755

“That's my arm… leg… That's still my arm…” There was a faint growl in the sigh that followed as the child continued pestering the irritated sniper, and my lips ached from how tightly I had to bite them to hold back my grin.

Wrecker offered none of my self-restraint, expression softened beneath a deep warmth, though there was no hiding the underlying sorrow in his gaze.

“How's the leg?” I asked quietly, attention focused on checking Hunter's chest tube and vitals before moving to look over Tech as well. He gave an almost bored shrug.

“Hurts a bit, but not like before.” He didn't take his eyes off the pair across from him as he spoke.

“When we reach the Marauder, I’ll give you something to relax, then we'll see if Cross and I can get it back in.” I told him gently. He let out a quiet hum in response.

“Think she means your armor.” He called out, voice still strangely hushed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Crosshair shoot his brother an unamused glare, but, when the girl pointed to his forearm, he let out resigned huff.

“Vambrace." He said, word perfectly monotone, and the excited gasp that followed left him dropping his face heavily into his hand, instantly drawing a wide smile across my lips. Wrecker returned that smile only briefly before sinking back into a quiet shame.

“She'll warm up to you.” I promised, leaning over to bump my shoulder against his, but he merely replied with a halfhearted nod.

The girl still hadn’t said a word, soundlessly communicating with a nod or a frown, though her expressions were so vibrant, we needed little assistance in understanding her. Meanwhile, Hunter and Tech remained unconscious. Though both were stable, the longer Tech’s arm remained in that tourniquet, the greater the risk of it causing damage to the limb.

“N- Those aren’t toys.” Cross nearly snapped, only belatedly forcing his voice into a tense murmur. I looked back to see the girl still tugging at one of the reflector disks at his waist, undeterred. He let out a poorly stifled growl before snatching at one of the disks and tossing it to her, earning a beaming grin.

“Why don’t yuh sit down? We’re still a few minutes away, an’ yuh look beat.”  Wrecker asked softly. An excuse danced readily over my tongue, but, as I turned to face him, as I noted the gentle concern in his bright eyes, that excuse faded before ever being granted voice. And he was far from wrong. I felt the way my shoulders sagged despite some lingering attempt to fight back that oppressive exhaustion, the weariness of muscles long since pleading for respite, and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

“Maybe you’re right.” I murmured quietly. “Just for a bit.” He offered a small grin as I settled into the seat beside him, gaze wandering over Crosshair once more with an air of amusement at his resigned glare while the girl practically sat in his lap as she leaned over to tap his bandoleer.

The medbay of the Marauder was never meant for this; it was meant to offer only a liminal reprieve while en route to a proper medical center, more akin to a transport than a place of actual healing, but this was war, and what was once the bare minimum quickly became fantastical ideals in the face of necessity. There was no surgical suite. There was no hope for sterility nor endless supply of equipment, but none of that changed the reality of what was before me; Tech would either bleed out or lose his arm if I couldn’t locate and fix the vessels that had been severed in the crash.

He lay unconscious atop my bed; the same bed in which he’d spent nearly a week suffering beneath the horrors of withdrawal from those wretched fungal spores; the same bed that had seen each of the brothers relax upon as I eased their aches with leisurely massages; the same bed Crosshair and I had slept together in nearly every night since the loss of my brother.

It felt like I’d barely slept a few minutes when Wrecker woke me. A quick glance at my chrono confirmed exactly that, but we’d reached the Marauder, and there simply wasn't time for anything more. I rubbed weary hands over my eyes, forcing back the nausea that so often followed in the wake of a far too short rest, and pretended not to notice how closely Crosshair was watching me.

With his help, we'd gotten Wrecker on board first, then Hunter. The movement had woken him, and we’d barely made it up the ramp before he shrugged us off. I’d nearly objected, nearly thrown the words “chest-tube" and “collapsed lung" at him through snarled lips, and demanded he let us help, but the handful of steps weren't worth the fight, and, at the moment, Tech was in far greater danger.

“What do you need?” Crosshair asked, shoulders drawn back, eyes hard as he studied the pale form of his brother between us. I’d almost taken a moment to find something for him to do, some way for him to help, but I didn’t have time to walk him through how to help, nor did I have the energy.

“I’ve got him.” I promised quietly, already guiding a pair of shears around Tech’s shoulder to cut away the sleeve. “You should talk to the girl – no, I mean actually talk to her.” It wasn’t scolding, but, from the disdain that twisted his face, it might as well have been. “She may know something,” I pressed, “and, right now, she seems to like you the most.” His shoulders sank, eyes narrowing into a weak glare, but he knew I was right.

“I'm not a damn babysitter.” I had to fight back a smirk at the indignation in his voice, stealing a quick breath to quiet myself before responding.

“So, interrogate her. Nicely.” His glare deepened, but I merely rolled my eyes.

“I don't do nice.” He hissed, drawing a sigh from me. Movements unrushed by impatience or annoyance, I set down the sheers and walked around the bed toward him, lips barely hinting at a warm smile.

“I think we both know that's not true.” I murmured softly. He started to object, scowl just beginning to twist his face, but the heat behind it faded as I reached for him, hand moving up to brush lightly over his chest before caressing his jaw, his cheek, fingers subtly pulling him down. “You can be very sweet.” That harshness abandoned him as he let himself be drawn toward me.

“Just because you get special treatment doesn't mean I've gone soft.” He tried to rebuke, lips even tensing with the beginnings of a frown, but, again, his retort fell into something far too gentle for the words he’d said, annoyance robbed by the sight of the grin toying with my lips.

“We’ll have to talk more about that ‘special treatment’ later,” I nearly teased, “but, right now, Echo needs to focus on monitoring troop movement, Hunter and Tech are both out, and she's…” I didn't want to say it, the words cloying up my throat, “she’s afraid of Wrecker… You're the only one she trusts enough to hopefully open up to.” With an almost growled sigh, he stood back to his full height, reluctantly pulling away from me as his jaw jut forward, narrowed gaze turning toward the door.

“Seems to trust you just find, too.” He pointed out. I released a slow breath, exhaustion unsatiated by those few minutes of rest stolen during the flight now making itself known once more through both weariness and the beginnings of an impatience I fought to stem.

“I can't take care of Tech and talk to her, Crosshair.” I tried not to let my voice fall into a grumble, but it was near enough to draw his attention back to me, shoulders sinking slightly at what he saw, and my jaw tensed as I caved beneath the urge to look away.

“Alright.” The way the innate rasp in his voice quieted into a careful whisper sent a flutter of warmth through my chest, the heat of it both comforting and crippling as it stripped me of the meager strength granted by an impatience I was simply too tired to fully hide, and what stillness followed as my eyes rose to find him studying me with a concern that nearly brought a flush to my cheeks was a far too gentle thing amidst the knowledge of what grizzly tasks still awaited me.

I replied only with a grateful nod, lips tensing with a smile I couldn't quite manage before turning back to Tech. Crosshair didn't move at first, and I wondered what thoughts held him for those handful of seconds. Was he searching for some final excuse that might convince me to withdraw my request and free him of his dreaded task? Or was he waiting for me to falter, unconvinced by the determination I forced back into my eyes as I returned to his brother’s side?

Regardless if his hesitation was from doubt or concern or reluctance, he waited only a moment before finally leaving, granting me an isolation that offered just as much strife as it did comfort, absolving me of the need to maintain some façade that I might pretend I wasn’t fighting how heavily my shoulders sagged the instant the door slid shut even as it emphasized just how alone I was in this. After doing what I could for Tech, I'd need to check Hunter again before moving on to Wrecker. There was no luxury of a break, no hope for reprieve lest I risk sacrificing the well-being and safety of my men. So, I allowed myself to waste no more time, gaze traveling over the deep gash marring Tech's upper arm.

We like to feign knowledge even where nothing can be guaranteed. The human body exists in a constant state of change, and even aspects held as fact cannot be relied upon in the face of independent cases. Anatomy is based on averages which, at best, grant perfunctory guidance and, at worst, acts only as a distraction. Even clones proved far more unique than the Kaminoans liked to believe. Genetics may offer a foundation, but who and what we become develop independent of, and occasionally in spite of, that primordial code, from the moral of our character to how our actions alter the physicality of muscle and bone through years of hardship and abuse. Anatomy claims knowledge of where veins and arteries nestle beneath skin and tissue, but immaculate diagrams and ancient names meant nothing amidst the gore of shredded flesh and thickening blood.

It felt like hours passed in the span of a single, endlessly held breath as I carefully sought out severed vessels, each one needing meticulous care to be knit back together around a shunt and flushed of all threat of clots. Repairing the muscle was easier, and I was relieved to find no severed tendons. Still, the moment I finally released the tourniquet, my heart raced faster with each passing second, eyes glued to the monitors for any signs of distress. Did I miss something? Had I taken too long? Symptoms of compartment syndrome, limb ischemia, embolisms, stroke, and endless other complications roared through my head. If anything happened, if he was hurt even worse because I wasn’t careful enough or quick enough, there was no one to blame but me… But his heartbeat remained steady… There was no sudden change in protein levels in his blood… Still, I couldn't let myself breathe… not yet… I set what equipment I had to monitor him for any change, but... he seemed okay.

I watched him for a long moment, as though my very presence might delay or prevent complications, locked in that fear that something would go wrong the instant I so much as blinked, before forcing myself to walk away. There was more that needed to be done.

Strides heavy, I trudged through the door, absently working a wet cloth between my hands. Logically, I knew the latex gloves worked as intended, that my skin was untainted from his blood just as his wound was safe from whatever bacteria thrived on my fingertips, but I could still feel it: thick and viscous and everywhere, the scent of which clung to me just as relentlessly as the nauseating texture.

“Doc?”

My eyes darted up to find Wrecker watching me carefully, concern heavy atop his brow as his jaw hung open with an unspoken question, body frozen where he stood in the kitchenette, hand still outstretched toward a cabinet.

“Wrecker, what are you doing up?” I asked quickly, already trotting forward.

“Uh, just… figured I’d get the kid somethin’ to eat.” He answered absently, thoughts clearly elsewhere.  “Tech…” He started, and I realized why he seemed so distracted, chest bucking with a sharp inhale to answer him quickly.

“Recovering.” He let out a small sigh at my quiet reassurance. “There was a lot of damage, but it looks like I was able to repair it in time to keep the tourniquet from causing even more problems.” He was just about to reply, lips pulled into a relieved grin, but I interrupted him, words just shy of biting. “Speaking of ‘causing even more damage'…” There was a brief moment in which he seemed honestly confused. It took a mere flick of my eyes toward his knee, however, for a light blush and nervous smile to wash over him.

“Ah, well… with you being so busy, and we can all tell yuh need a break, Cross an’ Echo helped to just…” He motioned innocently toward the leg as he lifted it, bending the limb a few times as if to prove it was fine, but his hope for forgiveness crumbled amidst the darkness I could feel stealing over my expression. I knew they hadn't used muscle relaxers – I didn't keep any in my pack and no one had tried to sneak into the medbay while I tended Tech.

“Sit.” I ordered firmly, pointing to the small table. He hesitated, but held back whatever excuse or objection bated across his tongue as he sulked to the nearest chair. Without another word, I marched back into the hall, boots clicking loudly against the metal walkway as though to emphasize my annoyance.

The bunks were empty, as was the cabin when I entered it. Upon leaning down to grab my pack, however, footsteps sounded from the fore of the ship. I paused as Crosshair approached, not trying to hide the lingering annoyance from my gaze. He hesitated, confusion drawing his brows together.

“What?” The defensive snarl in his voice only furthered my irritation.

“I'll deal with you and Echo later.” I stated firmly. His expression pinched with indignation, but I didn't grant him time to form a retort before starting back toward mess, unable to deny the slight taste of pleasure at the note of apprehension that stilled any urge he may have had to follow with a sharp-tongued quip.

Wrecker hadn’t moved from the chair, hands thoughtlessly picking at his glove as he waited for me to return. His eyes snapped toward me as soon as the door opened. Whatever annoyance or anger I’d had abandoned me at the almost pitiful look on his face, tension fleeing me with a slow sigh.

“Didn’t mean to make yuh mad…” he muttered, teeth working over the inside of his cheek, and I had to fight the guilt that twisted through my chest.

“I’m not mad.” I whispered, walking quietly toward him. “I just… thought we were past this…” His head tilted slightly, looking at me with an uncertainty that further stoked my guilt. “This… dealing with things without me… Not letting me help you.” His eyes widened in understanding, back straightening as he drew a quick breath to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“I know you’re strong.” He quickly stilled beneath the gentleness of my voice, the faintest hint of a blush just coloring his neck. “You’ve had to be – you and your brothers… You couldn’t rely on anyone else, so you had to figure out a way to survive alone – to make do…” As I spoke, I gently unwrapped the brace from his knee and held the scanner steadily over the still swollen joint, gaze studying the small screen. “And I know that you’ve taken on a lot more of that burden than anyone gives you credit for.” His shoulders sank slightly, gaze falling to the ground though he offered no objection.

“You calm them down when things get too heated… get them to laugh when everyone’s too angry or sad or tired to realize that that’s exactly what they need… what we need.” I corrected, acknowledging how often he’d done just that for me, as well. He remained silent, but I could feel his attention shift back to me as I began carefully working my hands over the wealth of muscle that tapered at the end of his thigh, touch flowing around areas the scan revealed to be damaged that I might ease some of the swelling before redressing it.

“I know it hurt.” I continued softly, a deep sympathy quieting my voice even further. “Reducing a dislocation… It feels a lot better afterwards, but…” Again, his lack of even a dismissive grunt only confirmed my statement. “And you… all that muscle…” I let my fingers spread over the dense cords stretching down his thigh, “It doesn’t matter how hard you try, with an injury like that, you can’t relax them. It’s an autonomic response, that’s why we use medication to help make them relax.” I glanced up at him to let him see the concern in my eyes as my hands returned to that careful, rhythmic ebb and flow along the abused tissue.

“I know you’re strong… probably barely even grunted when they did it… but forcing it like that, it can tear ligaments and tendons, and rip all that muscle that’s locked up trying to guard the joint… then it takes even longer to heal, and, even then, it usually doesn’t heal as well as it could have.” His jaw shifted absently to the side, teeth grinding in a mixture of guilt and resignation, rekindling my own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” I barely whispered it, hands coming to a stop atop the broad curve of his calf. A fresh confusion pulled at his handsome face, mismatched eyes studying me with a focus that was somehow just as quieting as it was penetrating.

To anyone else, seeing him like that, expression pinched with powerful brows drawn together and that broad jaw tensed enough to emphasize the cords of muscle lining his cheeks, he may have looked frightening. I knew others would have found him frightening… but I also knew what drove the intensity of his gaze; the desperate need to truly understand those around him; to read them before he might do or say something that would offend or scare absent need or intent. That’s why he was so gentle; so adept at buffering the fiery tempers of his brothers or, if the mood struck him, stoking the tempers of any unfortunate enough to garner his ire. Now, however, he stared at me like that neither to soothe nor harass. He studied me because those words didn’t make sense amidst the blame he believed himself responsible for, and he needed to understand before he could make it right. But I didn’t want him to feel that way. I only wanted him to be okay.

“I should have been faster.” I didn’t stop at the flash of realization that came over him, nor from the almost pained remorse that followed. “Leaving you with a dislocated knee for… hours – kriff… I really can’t blame you for wanting them to fix it any way they could.”

“Doc-” He called, shoulders sinking, but again fell silent as I looked up at him with a weary, apologetic smile.

“But next time,” I pressed, sowing something of a command back into my voice, “at least check with me first… Alright?” He was quiet for a moment longer before nodding, but the words that followed made my stomach sink.

“I mean… not like popping a knee back in is more important than saving Tech’s arm, so…” He said it was such offhanded disregard, body shifting in a dismissive shrug. When he looked at me, however, he froze, and I could only guess at the deep heartbreak surely painted across my face.

“You’re important.” I breathed the words into the too-great distance between us, pressing each one into existence with a desperate plea, begging him to believe me. “You’re important, Wrecker.” I said again, reaching up to cradle one of his hands between mine. It always surprised me; the sheer size of him. It was somehow so easy to forget amidst his vibrant, caring personality until moments like this when I could see how he dwarfed me, palm too wide for my fingers to fully wrap around.

That size also made it easy to imagine him as this invincible, impenetrable force, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d seen how deeply the girl’s fear had wounded him, how beaten he looked from the mere threat of my anger, and I hated myself for having caused him such hurt, for ever allowing him to think of himself as lesser than his brothers. Chest jerking with a sharp inhale, I pulled his hand toward me, lips pressing gently against his knuckles, and I mourned the cause of every scar marring that stunning, calloused skin.

“I never want you to think you’re not… not to me.” His hand shifted ever so slightly between mine, twisting as though he meant to reach for me, fingertip only just brushing against my chin before he pulled away, throat shifting stiffly as he swallowed whatever thoughts he’d robbed of any hope of being born. With a final, jerked nod, he leaned back, and the room felt that much colder without the heat of his touch, but I merely drew a deep, steadying breath and let my attention return to his knee, already reaching for a tube of bacta.

“All right. You going to drop your pants, or do I need to cut them off of you?”

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[shellshooked]

Did somebody say hunter in his joel miller era

[squad-724]

Behold! More mer batch! Part 1 out of 3

Crossshair’s first day in the Pabu Sea Sanctuary

Warning for blood and heavy skin burns

This time with a snippet provided by @pinetree-tbb who did an unbelievably fantastic job at writing this three parter!

Crosshair woke up slowly, taking a few deep breaths and letting the cool water flow through his gills. He felt weird, like something was missing. Did his brothers let him oversleep? He made a small move to straighten out his tail, a sudden jolt of pain waking him up instantly.

With a gasp he raised up, eyes open and watching the room around him. He wasn’t on the ship deck anymore, but it didn’t look like underneath it either.

No, the room was stationary and clean. The lights were all turned off, but a smell of antiseptic and medicine lingered in the air. Instead of wet wood he was curled up in a sort of small pool with a weird aftertaste to it, fresh instead of salty. The last thing he remembered clearly was Hunter reaching for him while the imperial humans tossed him overboard into the ocean, the face of the man who tortured him and took his brothers. He had to find them!

He pushed himself up on his skeletally thin arms that almost gave up under his weight to look around. The pond he was placed in was below the floor level, covered under a dome made of a construction similar to lobster trap, but much bigger. Crosshair narrowed his eyes and went underwater again, then he looked at himself. The net was gone and was replaced with bandages in all the places the nylon broke through his skin and scales. All the wounds got dressed, but because of the wet environment the blood was still flowing, although slowly. Mer blood clots much quicker than human.

It would have to do. With one wave of his tail he was at the wall of the pool and trying to haul himself up to reach the metal bars that covered his prison. It took him a few tries, but he was able to hang on one of his elbows and rest before trying to reach the locking mechanism. Unfortunately that’s when the doors to the room opened and the outside illuminated the room. Crosshair hissed, shielded his eyes from the sudden light, dropped back into the pond and retreated into the opposite side of the pond.

"Well look who’s up, Kix! He's awake!" A female voice rang out as she entered the room and looked through the metal bars, dim light burned now and Crosshair could see the shape of a human, distorted by the water. He flicked his tail and bared his teeth as a warning.

"I think he's in a bad mood." She said to the man coming up to her, much taller and wearing a white coat. "Let's leave him alone for a bit longer to get used to the medical pond, then we can see if we can communicate in some way." He noted and with that the humans walked out, leaving the room in the darkness once more.

If they think they can just keep him here, they have another thing coming! Crosshair waited for a while after they left, then went to the edge of the pond again. He pushed himself out of the water. With the same technique as the previous attempt he hung off of his good elbow and pushed the lock of the metal dome open. It took some effort but he was able to drag his whole tail up and through the newly opened hatch.

With a wet flop he landed on the cold ground and hissed in pain, then propped himself up on his once again bleeding arms and crawl-slithered to the door. He tried the handle but it refused to open. Frustrated, he scratched at the door frame, leaving behind a few marks. After a few deep breaths he looked around but there was nothing else in the room. He growled, flicking the tip of his tail in annoyance. He had to get out of there. But how?

The only ones that knew how to open the doors were- the humans! The same ones that had a weird obsession with fixing his wounds. He now had a plan.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Kix decided to come back in an hour, long enough for their new friend to get more comfortable with the pond and the room. He asked Phee to bring the soundboard, courtesy of the twin in providing sound samples of common phrases in the mer language for arrivals that did not know English. They hoped the eel friend did not come from afar, or the dialect could prove different enough for the tablet to become useless. He did not know of any pod, neither having a territory nor traveling through nearby, with similar features as the new patient.

However, all of his positive approach popped like a balloon when he turned on the lights of the emergency pool room, his horrified gasp making Riyo and Phee rush in too. The eel mer was floating unmoving on the surface of the water, face down.

“Oh no, is he?-” The pink haired woman didn’t get to finish her question before the doctor rushed towards the pool, the latch undone in one good yank and the man rushing to the mer. If it happened recently they still had the chance to help him.

His state was dire but non life threatening, did the starvation make the blood loss so much severe-

His colleague ran a step behind him, ready to assist. Phee stayed out while the two adults raised the patient out of the water, Kix lowering his head to listen for heartbeat.

Fast. Very fast. Same as breath. The eel mer wasn’t unconscious. He was waiting.

Before Kix could run the mer opened his eyes, and with a yelp the doctor was pushed underwater by his long, white tail. Bloodied water rushed into his nose and mouth.

As he choked, Riyo was faced with a snarling mer, blocking his leap towards her neck with her arm. With a strong shake he pushed her to the side and slithered towards the open latch of the pool.

"Don't- cough- let him out!" Kix called, Phee rushed the door, unfortunately not fast enough to outrun the mer, who pushed her to the ground and smashed his shoulder to fully open them. He let out a painful hiss but did not slow after pushing and crawl-slithered out of the room.

"Oisk!" Kix cursed and ran after him, Riyo close behind, grasping her bleeding arm. Phee jumped up to her feet and followed.

"Let's herd him to the Twins!" She called after them.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

He was out! It worked! Now he just had to get out of the building! Crosshair crawl-slithered as quickly as he could, biting down the groans which wanted to come out of him with every move. He didn't know where to go but he kept moving and hissing when someone got into his way. Crosshair heard his blood rushing in his ears and heart beating against his ribcage.

There! That must be the door to go outside! It was a glass door with two wings, fragile, so he threw himself at it trying to make it shatter. He growled and looked around for something heavy but when he turned around he saw the man from before in front of him, holding his hands up, coming slowly closer.

"Easy boy easy, we want to help you."

'Help? Yeah, not falling for that you fishhead!' Crosshair thought. He drew his shoulders up in a threatening manner and let out a deep slow hiss, flicking his tail in. He pushed against the glass behind him, trying to get it to open.

"Easy. Stay calm." The man whispered and came closer.

"I don't think he can understand you Kix." The short, pink haired woman beside him noted.

"Well, I hope he understands my tone and body language."

'Well you obviously don't!' Cross thought and slammed his tail against the glass, letting out another growl. The Kix guy took another step closer and Crosshair lashed out at him with his claws, which made him step back again.

"We have to get him secured before he hurts himself more." The dark skinned woman said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. When his eyes moved to look at the gesture Crosshair spotted a chair to his left, so he slowly edged closer to it, without looking at it to give away his intention. He just stared down the man, the biggest danger in his current situation. When the chair was within reach he grabbed one of its legs and swung it behind him at the door, the glass shattering into a thousand tiny shards and rattling to the ground. Crosshair turned and rushed through the broken door, ignoring the pain as the pieces pierced his body.

"After him!" He heard the man call behind him but he kept crawling. The rocky concrete under him scrabbed up his hands and tail, and he felt the bandages around his body come loose. A quick look confirmed that his motions on the ground roughed up the bandages and made them tear apart. He had to get into the water. It was noon and the sun was burning from the peak of its travel across the sky, Crosshair running on the fumes of adrenaline, but he couldn’t give up now, he had to go back and find his brothers!

He sniffed the air, his nose filled with the metallic scent of his own blood, but underneath it he was able to smell the salty water of the ocean, in which direction he slithered towards.

Suddenly, a shape blocked his path, the man from the inside, this time a blanket in his hands. Crosshair made a sharp turn, avoiding the piece of cloth as it was thrown towards him, but not slowing down even for a moment, even as the burning concrete ripped a few of his scales. He made another dodge, this time to the left as the pink haired woman made her attempt at blinding him with her blanket.

He ignored the shout made by the man, sounding weirdly delighted, to finally see the shimmer of his destination, water! With a few more pushes forwards he reached the sand and then the blessed ocean. He was out!

FInally able to open his gills he took a deep inhale, letting the cold water flow through them as he swam further away from the humans.

Cross felt a sense of triumph, managing to escape from that place and darted through the currents, but then was abruptly stopped when he slammed into an invisible, no, glass, wall in front of him.

What?! No! No nO NO!!! He swam up to the surface, looking at the wall in disbelief. He turned around and saw the people from before at the beach and realized what they had done. Now it made sense what they wanted with the blankets! They shepherd him into this pond!

Crosshair growled deeply and looked back at the wall, he could easily jump over this. So he dived deeper and rushed upwards gaining speed. In his horror as he sprung out of the water he felt something grip his tail, instantly losing momentum for the jump. Crosshair slammed into the upper edge of the wall, crying out in pain. He tried to hold onto it, but slipped and fell back into the water. He looked around but could not find the reason for his failure of escape, so he quickly tried a second time, but he used up all of his strength he had in the first jump. He slammed into the wall, slipping back down, leaving claw marks on the clear surface. He tried another jump but the adrenaline that kept him going the past few minutes began to wear off, leaving him behind tired and exhausted.

As he slumped back into the water he just went limp and let himself sink. He watched as the surface became more distant and fogged with the slowly seeping blood from the wounds he reopened and obtained in the last few minutes. He looked at his hands, scratched up from the concrete ground and missing two claws which he must have ripped out while climbing. He watched his blood come out of his wounds, mixing with the water in tiny swirls. He was hurt, and tired, he didn't know what to do... He fought to keep his eyes open, but unconsciousness called to claim him...

No. Not here, not out in the open.

Slowly he flipped his tail to make himself turn around and look, spotting a few rocks at the bottom of the pond, in between the sand, corals and seaweed. He inspected it to see if there was enough space, then started to dig. Every move hurt, but he refused to stay out in the open like that. He made himself a hollow in the sand under the rocks and got in, and with his tail he pushed the overstanding sand back to the entrance to make it smaller. With his hand he shoved more ground up to close the entrance and his little shelter turned dark. Crosshair wrapped his long tail around himself and settled down. The hole wasn't big, but that made him feel safer... for now... The sand he laid on was soft, much softer than the sand in the open waters, so he burrowed a bit in with a few wiggles. Now, laying there in his burrow, Crosshair began feeling everything that hit him today. The pain of his wounds has doubled, each and every scab and missing scale sending jolts of stabbing pain. The blood finally stopped flowing when he stayed still, but now the sand got into the cuts caused by the net, and stung horrifically. He was scared. Alone, for the first time since his original pod abandoned him. He wanted Ninety Nine. And Hunter, Tech and Wrecker. He wanted to go back home to the bay. He wanted… to… sleep…

Part 2

[dindjarindiaries]

Broken Wings - Chapter 2

summary: Hunter tries to solve the mystery of his squad’s newest ally as he also navigates their new normal with Cid, leading to a deal that’s made between him and you.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: strangers to lovers, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, loss of limb, trauma, eventual/mild smut, eventual pregnancy, canon character death, canon compliant

note: this story will follow tbb canon events, but quotes and other details will not always be 100% accurate to maintain originality

word count: 4.421k

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chapter 2 ⟹

Your laugh drew Hunter’s attention across Cid’s to where you were sitting at the high-top with Omega. He should have been focusing on Cid’s quiet threat to expose him and his squad and the fact that she was now hanging it over their heads in exchange for work, but he found that you were a much better thought to muse upon. Your head hung back for a moment as you laughed, your closed eyes reopening as they sparkled upon Omega.

She really needed someone like that in this squad, someone like you—a person who could understand her in a way Hunter and the boys simply couldn’t. But Omega wasn’t the only one who was quickly attaching herself to you.

“Hunter.” Echo’s hushed voice was the only thing that could tear Hunter’s gaze away from you and Omega. He snapped his head towards Echo, whose brow was furrowed as he gestured with his eyes to you. “Do you really think we can trust her?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened. He should have been asking himself the same thing that Echo was now, but instead, the words came as a surprise to him. “What do you mean?”

Echo let out an incredulous huff. “The first thing she did was threaten us, and we know she’s on the run from someone.” Echo crossed his arms and frowned in your direction. “And she doesn’t seem to like clones, either.”

“She’s not the only one on the run.” Hunter raised his brow. “I wouldn’t be keen on hearing other clones right now, either. After what the Empire’s done to the regs, can you blame her?”

Echo blinked a few times in surprise. He then gave Hunter a once-over through narrowed eyes. “You don’t know her, Hunter. None of us do.” Echo shook his head aimlessly. “You’re not usually this quick to trust.”

Hunter shrugged. “What I know is that she chose to help me fight when she had the choice to run.” He lowered his voice, as if you would somehow hear him. “Even with a leg that’s in really rough shape.”

Echo’s head rocked back and forth before he nodded. “That’s true.” He exhaled and relaxed his arms. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t trust her. It’s just… we’re in a delicate position right now.”

Hunter set a gloved hand on Echo’s shoulder. “I understand, and it’s nice to have someone to keep me in check.” Echo let the corners of his mouth rise in a small smile at that. “But she seems to be in a hurry, anyway, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I would not be so certain.” Tech entered the conversation with his nose in his datapad. He looked up and spared a hand to adjust his goggles as he glanced at Hunter. “Birdie’s injury is not simple in the slightest. Should she continue on her own, especially without proper medical attention, it is very likely that she will have to lose her leg—or worse.”

Hunter and Echo exchanged a wide-eyed glance. Hunter’s chest squeezed tight when he heard you and Omega laughing behind him once again. “How can it be fixed, then?” Hunter looked at Tech, his expression hardened in resolve.

“Well,” Tech started tapping around his datapad, “I have already drafted a schematic for a device I can craft that will offer her the necessary treatments in small yet effective doses. That, mixed with targeted physical recovery on the leg, should expedite the healing process.” Tech’s stare met Hunter’s again. “Though it will take some time, and some additional materials, for me to craft such a device.”

“That’s a lot to offer to someone we just met.” Echo’s tone was coated in caution. Hunter couldn’t, and wouldn’t, blame him for that. “Especially when our credits and supplies are already low as it is.”

Hunter glanced over his shoulder. You were smiling and talking to Omega about something that had the young girl’s face absolutely glowing. His chest warmed as he turned back to Tech and Echo. “Let me talk to her about it, see what she thinks. She may not even want to stick around as it is.”

Hunter stepped away before he could be convinced otherwise. Wrecker took his place, and Hunter just barely caught his exasperated “What did I miss this time?” before he focused his senses on you and Omega. Your gaze caught his as he came closer, and he was bewildered by the strange nervousness it brought him. But it wasn’t a feeling he wanted to ignore or fight away.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Hunter’s voice remained warm as he set a hand on Omega’s shoulder and smiled at her. Her bright gaze flickered over to him, and she was quick to return his smile. Hunter turned back to you and nodded. “Can I speak with you in private, Birdie?”

You offered him a small smile. “Yeah, of course.” You looked down, your lips pulling tight as you focused on the wrap. Hunter offered you a hand for support, and your smile widened as you accepted it.

He couldn’t help hearing the quickening of your heartbeat as you did so, or maybe that was his own.

You slid off the stool and used Hunter for balance before nodding at him in reassurance. Hunter let you go and led you over to a corner of the room, taking a quiet yet deep breath as he processed Tech’s words through a gentler lens. He faced you again and sat across from you, inviting you to do the same. He refused to make you stand with such a bad injury.

“I talked to Tech about your injury.” Hunter cut right to the chase.

You hummed. “Sounds like you took one for the team.” Hunter couldn’t muster up an amused response to your playful words. Your shoulders straightened in newfound severity. “What did he say about it?”

Hunter fought a grimace. “It’s… not good.”

He looked down and watched his arm settle upon the small tabletop before he glanced up at you again. Your brow was knit, but you showed no other signs of dismay.

“He’s come up with a way to quicken the healing process, but it requires both time and credits, and I know you’re itching to get out of here.” He curled the hand on the table into a fist. “If you want to stay for a little while and get that treatment, we can work something out. But if you don’t, at least make sure you get proper medical attention while you’re out there.”

You blinked at him, your lips slightly parted in awe. It took you a few more moments to actually speak. “What are the odds that Tech’s wrong?”

Hunter huffed, cutting his gaze towards his brother. “Extremely low. He’s rarely, if ever, been wrong.” Hunter loosened his fist and lifted his other arm onto the table, folding his gloved hands together as he went on. “You’ve probably noticed, but we’re all enhanced clones. Research like this is literally what Tech was made for.”

You shrugged, somehow managing to smile with amusement again even after receiving such bad news. “I hadn’t noticed, actually, so thanks for filling me in.” Your expression straightened in severity again as you held your upper arms. “It’s nice of you to offer all of this.” You shook your head and looked off to the side. “I’m just not in a position to be racking up any debts, and I really can’t stay in one place for too long. I’m already overstaying my welcome as it is.”

“You wouldn’t owe us any debts.” Hunter nodded at you. “We can make a deal.” He gestured with his head to Cid’s office. “Cid wants us to work for her regularly. I’m still considering her offer, but if you can manage to help us with some of the jobs for a while, then we can offset the costs of your treatment. Plus…” 

Hunter circled his jaw and looked down for a moment, considering his words.

“I’m not trying to keep my squad in one place for too long, either. You’re not the only one who has someone gunning for them.” Hunter gave you a hint about their own dilemma, but not Omega’s. Risking his safety was a lot different than risking hers.

Your stare met his again, and Hunter was quick to note the pure surprise he saw within its depths. Your heartbeat had quickened again, and you had taken a tighter grasp on your arms, but all you could do was ask one single question. “Why are you so willing to help me?”

Hunter let out a light breath, softening his expression as he gave you another nod. “Because you helped me first.”

Your gaze flickered between his eyes as you offered him a warm smile. Hunter’s gaze shifted to Omega, who had since struck up a conversation with Wrecker at the high-top.

“And it seems like Omega really likes you. She probably would’ve gotten us to help you, anyway.” Hunter let out a fond chuckle. “She’s very convincing.”

You laughed, a soft sound that instantly drew Hunter’s gaze back to you. There was a sparkle in your eyes that was new, brightening up the small space that sat between the two of you. “Yeah, I’ve gathered that.” You exhaled a gentle breath and let the amusement fade from your expression. “Thank you, Sergeant. Truly.”

Hunter nodded, the corner of his mouth pulling up before he could stop it. “You can just call me Hunter. We don’t really do the whole formalities thing.”

You smiled again and returned his nod. “Hunter it is, then.” You leaned forward and rested your crossed arms upon the table. “It’s good to know there are people like you and your squad in this galaxy. I’ve been losing faith in that for years.”

You stood, and Hunter did the same. He assessed your balance, but you were quick to steady yourself on your good leg. You stretched out a hand towards him and nodded.

“We have a deal.”

Hunter accepted your hand and nodded once more. The motion of shaking your hand was lost in the feeling of your simple touch, which could only be described as electric. Hunter wondered if his senses were accidentally working overtime, but his lack of a migraine seemed to suggest otherwise. The sensation disappeared the moment you both pulled away, and Hunter forced himself not to dwell on it.

“I’ll round up the squad and let them know.” Hunter walked forward and rolled his shoulders, focusing himself on the task at hand instead of the sudden, dizzying array of thoughts that were popping into his mind all at once. He raised his voice for his squad to hear. “All right, listen up.”

Echo and Tech turned to look at Hunter, as did Omega and Wrecker at the high top. You were just beside Hunter, a strong presence he didn’t even have to use his enhanced senses to pick up on. Echo and Tech walked closer as Hunter continued.

“We’re not in a position to reject any opportunities to make credits right now, and Cid’s offered to give us more work.” Hunter gestured with his head to you. “Birdie’s in a similar position. We could use an extra hand with these jobs,” Hunter’s voice lowered as he subtly acknowledged Crosshair’s absence, “and in exchange for her help, we’ll be helping Birdie treat her leg. Once it’s healed, she’ll head off on her own again.”

Hunter glanced over at you. You nodded at the group, your eyes kind but your face set in determination. No one would be arguing this decision and winning, not when both you and Hunter were clearly set on it.

“Birdie’s staying?” Omega lit up, her shoulders lifting before she hopped down from her stool. “This is gonna be so fun!” She clapped her hands together and beamed in your direction.

Hunter’s own lips spread in a small smile. It was the happiest he had seen Omega ever since she saw her room on the Marauder for the first time.

That thought seemed fresh in Omega’s mind, too. “You can stay with me in my room on the Marauder, if you want.” Omega was gushing as she walked up to you. “There’s plenty of room, and…” she lowered her voice to a whisper clearly meant just for you, but was also picked up by Hunter’s senses, “you won’t have to hear Wrecker’s snoring.”

All Hunter could catch was your smile before someone grabbed his shoulder. He looked up and realized Echo had approached him again, his lips pulled tight as he urged Hunter a few steps away from you and Omega. “Hunter…”

“I know.” Hunter set his hands on his hips and let out a heavy exhale.

Echo didn’t need to say it for him to know; even Hunter himself was conflicted between whatever strange, comforting feeling you brought him and the survival instincts he had learned both as a soldier and in these past few weeks on the run.

“But we can’t just send her out there with no ship and no credits knowing something bad could happen to her.” Hunter lifted an eyebrow at Echo. “That’s not what we do.”

Echo’s gaze fell. “I agree. This is the right thing to do.” His jaw hardened as he looked at Hunter again. “But we barely have enough credits to supply ourselves as it is.”

“Yeah.” Hunter crossed his arms and lifted one hand to his chin, his gaze scanning the floor as he thought everything through. “I can try to negotiate a better rate with Cid. If she’s got an extra person working for her, she should be compensating for that, anyway.”

“In theory.” Echo huffed and gave Cid’s office an unimpressed look. “I don’t take her for the fair type.”

Hunter also frowned in that same direction. “Neither do I.” He sighed again and shrugged. “It won’t be for long. Birdie said she wants to get going soon. Apparently, she can’t stay in one place for too long.”

Echo’s gaze flashed with concern as he gave you a quick glance. “Why do you think the Empire’s after her?”

Hunter shook his head. “Don’t know.” He tightened the hand on his chin into a fist when he remembered the only clue you had given him about your pursuer: he. There was someone specific in the Empire’s ranks who was after you, and it gave Hunter a sinking feeling. “I figure the less we know, the better. Keeps us all safer that way.”

“Agreed.” Echo raised an eyebrow. “Any idea when Cid’s gonna give us our next job?”

Hunter shook his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she put us to work again right after getting back, but… we have no idea how this all functions yet.”

“True.” Echo nodded in Omega’s direction. “I think I’ll use this time to help her with that bow.”

Hunter hummed in agreement. “Smart choice.” He stayed where he was as he watched Echo approach Omega, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder before guiding her over to where a target was already painted onto the side of some old machine. Tech and Wrecker followed, the former no doubt excited by the fact he would get to create a brand-new stats analysis from this brief training session.

Hunter’s chest warmed at the sight of his squad, his family, but once that word came to mind, the warm feeling vanished just as quickly as it had arisen. This wasn’t his complete family, and he had no idea how the hell to bring them all back together. Not after what had happened in that hangar on Kamino.

After Kaller, Hunter couldn’t escape that feeling of failure, and he was beginning to fear he never would.

“Hunter?” The sergeant was drawn from his heavy thoughts at the sound of your voice. Your brow was raised as you gestured with your thumb over your shoulder to where the rest of the squad had gathered. “Are you joining us?”

Hunter took a deep breath and nodded, resetting himself as his arms relaxed at his sides. He stepped forward with you to join the squad, though he and you hung back closer to where Wrecker was behind Echo, Omega, and Tech. Omega was trying, but she was off to a rocky start, and it was catching the interest of the two locals who seemed to frequent Cid’s parlor.

“Has Omega always been with you?” Your tone was curious, but Hunter could easily catch its lighthearted inflection.

“No.” Hunter kept his careful eye on Omega as she wrestled with the golden weapon, despite Echo and Tech’s close reach. He just couldn’t shake the protectiveness. “She’s only been with us for a little while.”

You crossed your arms and lifted an eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve all formed a quick bond, then.”

“She’s one of us.” Hunter recalled the moment Tech informed the squad of that revelation. He couldn’t have gotten back to Kamino faster if he had tried. “Time doesn’t change that.”

Hunter could sense the warmth of your stare on him. “It’s sweet.” He returned your gaze, just barely catching the end of a once-over you had given him. The tips of Hunter’s ears began to burn. “I bet she’s thankful to have such fierce and loyal protectors in a galaxy like this.” Your eyes focused on the floor. “They’re not easy to come by.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed. The clear longing in your voice proved you had seen an ugliness of the galaxy that threatened to make Hunter sick with both disgust and rage on your behalf. “She hasn’t seen much of the galaxy yet, thankfully.” Hunter returned his stare to Omega, who was cheering as she finally hit a part of the target. “She wants to explore more of it, but… I know what’s out there.”

You nodded in understanding. “That’s a delicate balance to strike. Not wanting to hold her back, but also wanting to keep her safe.”

Hunter circled his jaw. “Exactly.” He watched as Omega’s faith was invigorated from her successful attempt, and in a series of three shots, she managed to land another inside the painted rings. “At least we can teach her how to protect herself.”

You stayed silent for a few moments after that. Hunter glanced at you, catching a mixture of concern and severity in your gaze as he did so. You spoke again before he could question it, your voice lower than it had been before. “I may not be able to tell you much about myself, but I want you to know that I would never hurt her.” You looked at Hunter with an expression more serious than any other you had shown him yet. “Or any of you.” Your gaze cut away from him. “All I want is to run. That’s it.”

Hunter asked the question before he could bite it back. “From the Empire?”

You considered his words for a long moment. Eventually, you nodded. “In a way.” You cleared your throat and shook your head. “That’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry.” Your stare returned to his. “It’s for your own safety.”

Hunter nodded. “I understand.”

Your lips stretched in a small smile of gratitude before you focused on the squad again. You took a light breath and changed the subject. “So, it seems like you’re all named after your enhancements, but I’m lost on Echo’s.”

“That’s because Echo isn’t an enhanced clone.” Your brow shot up at that. “He was a regular clone that the Separatists tried to make into a weapon of sorts. Our squad helped to rescue him.”

“That makes more sense.” You paused, most likely doing the math in your head. “Your squad was originally just the three of you, then? You, Wrecker, and Tech?”

Hunter tensed, his temples throbbing for a moment as his inner turmoil caused every one of his delicate senses to fray. He shut his eyes and let out a breath he hoped was steady as he attempted to calm himself. “There were four.”

He reopened his eyes, catching your sympathetic yet curious glance. The question you no doubt longed to ask him sat between you, but it was a line neither of you were willing to cross yet. Instead, you both focused back on Omega, who was beginning to lean even heavier on Echo’s encouragement to keep herself from giving up completely.

“Hey, Birdie.” Wrecker grinned at you as he gently jostled your shoulder on the side opposite from where Hunter stood. “Tech told me you’re gonna need some physical training for your leg, and he put me in charge of it.” Wrecker clapped his hands together over his chestplate. “Are ya’ ready?”

Hunter watched as your face began to light up. “Only if you make it a real challenge.”

Wrecker chuckled and nudged your shoulder again. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Hunter looked between the two of you, and his lips instinctively pulled up in a smile. It hadn’t been long, but you had already shed your uncertainty for a sweet kind of comfort that was bringing you closer to everyone in the squad. You were fitting right in with the squad.

Before Hunter could dwell more on that thought, Cid made her approach, her footsteps catching Hunter’s attention well before she had arrived. He cut his gaze at her, straightening his posture and tightening his jaw as she announced her presence. “Glad you’re all in one place.” Cid set her hands on her hips, clearly pleased by whatever gathering she was interrupting. “I’ve got another job for ya’.”

Hunter furrowed his brow at her. “I haven’t told you whether or not we’re working for you.” Even if they had decided to work for Cid for a time, Hunter wasn’t a fan of her assuming the answer.

“Well, let me decide for you, Bandana.” Hunter rolled his eyes at the nickname. “You are.” Cid peered around the group. “I’m assuming you all know what a tactical droid is?”

The squad stayed quiet, including you. Hunter could sense Tech shifting his weight between his feet, fighting the urge to speak.

Cid raised her brow. “They’re—.”

Hunter grunted as Tech pushed past him. “The Separatists’ strategic—.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Cid held her hands up at Tech. “This is my briefing, Goggles.” She kept a single eyebrow raised. “Relax.”

Tech’s chest rose with a breath before he ultimately deflated. Hunter set a hand on Tech’s shoulder as he adjusted his goggles.

“They’re the brains of the Separatists’ droid army—or, at least, they were.” Cid shoved Wrecker, who had been leaning against a nearby holotable. His proximity to you meant that she had knocked his momentum right into you, but Hunter was there to catch you by the elbow, just like he had on the Marauder. You looked at him with a grateful smile, one that gave him pause.

Of course, it would be in this split second moment that Hunter would let himself truly relish in your beauty in the way he had the first time he saw you in the Zygerrian camp. There was just something about being this close, about having his sensitive sense of touch on you, that made him forget where and who he was for the time being.

But the moment vanished in a mere second’s time, as Hunter let you go as soon as you gave him a nod of reassurance. Whatever Cid was going to say, he would have to listen. He didn’t get the luxury of zoning out during a briefing. He never had.

“I’ve got a tip on a fully-intact tactical droid head in a factory on Corellia,” Cid went on, pulling up a holodiagram of a tactical droid. “I need it in prime condition. You hear that? Prime.” Cid wagged a single finger in warning. “No damage.”

“Corellia?” Hunter shook his head. “That’s too close to the Core for my liking. We’re trying to lay low.”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you like.” Cid shut off the holotable and tossed a chit towards Hunter. He recovered from his shock just in time to catch it. “I need this one done stat, so I expect to see you back here in no more than a few days.”

Her gaze settled on Omega, and she stepped forward to take the golden bow from her hands. Hunter’s hands tightened into fists, with one nearly threatening to snap the chit he still held against his palm.

“And the reason you keep missing, kid, is because of your flimsy noodle arms.” Cid lifted the bow and fired off three shots, all of which hit the target’s bullseye. She all but shoved the bow back into Omega’s arms. “Now get going!”

Cid was about to leave when her yellow eyes caught one more person. Her gaze glittered in curiosity.

“And make sure your new friend here knows all my rules.”

With that, Cid turned her back on them, stalking off towards her office once again. Everyone turned to face Hunter, and he let out a light breath before nodding. “You heard her. Let’s get going.”

Omega brightened as she secured her bow over her back and ran up to you. “Your first official mission with us, Birdie! Are you excited?”

You smiled at her. “I sure am.”

Hunter’s chest warmed in gratitude, because what he was seeing in your gaze was completely different from what you were telling Omega. There was a hesitance there, a fear you would likely never speak on, but you only projected strength and enthusiasm to the young girl. Hunter didn’t know what was causing it, but when the sudden urge to ensure your safety arose, he didn’t fight it.

Keeping you safe felt right, and in a time where the rest of the galaxy was crumbling around him, Hunter let himself give into it.

previous ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ next

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020

broken wings tag list: @dindadjarin @jedipoodoo @the-vast-corner-of-the-galaxy

[spartasghost15]

So I just finished Episode 7 and.

LET. ME. COOK!

Just like Gregor

Anyways, this post is about

Clone X

Tech

The future episode 10

And a TBB theory

SPOILERS BELOW!!

Ok so, many people are theorizing that Clone X is Tech (And I agree) but I have my own theory about it.

So why is episode 10 mentioned?

Well I theorized that the reveal for Tech is the end or middle of Episode 8, then Episode 9 he will start to break out of what Helmlock did to him. Episode 10's name is called

Identity Crisis

So let me cook here! In episode 10, Tech finally breaks out of the mind control and goes back to the Bad Batch (And maybe even Phee), apologize and then join them. Considering that X clone Tech was made on Tantiss, like the other assassin clones, he may have the most info on Tantiss, maybe not the coordinates but maybe what they are doing and maybe get some insight on this Project Necromancer that Helmlock talked about.

Maybe I cooked a 3 Michelin star meal, maybe I burnt down the kitchen? Who knows but come back to this when Episode 10 is up.

[freesia-writes]

Master List

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana 🧡🧡🧡

Chapters:

Interference

Indignation

Interdependence

Instigation

Insight

Interest

Invitation

Intentions

Interception

Injustice

Intellect

Injury

Ingenuity

Incitation

Undercover

Untraditional

Undermined

Unrequited

Unpredictable

Upended

Unveil

Return

Revelation

Revilement

Repentance

Refreshment

Relentlessness

Resonance

Reactivity

Costuming

Conspiracy

Catastrophe

Contentment

Cohabitation

Completion

[a-lil-perspective]

Hunter: If being hot was a crime I’d be serving a life sentence.

Crosshair: For a crime you didn’t even commit?

[hastalavistabyebye]

Just had a thought on tbb Echo, but you know his absence of melanin and hair ? Well we have another character in star wars that ended up like that after being chopped off and burned (Echo survived an explosion, he absolutely got extensive third degree burns) : Vader.

So what I'm saying is that this result is most likely from the way they heal those kind of injuries in the gffa. It's scar tissue if you want. Healed skin.

Bald and no melanin Echo is healed Echo. Not healing, healed.

[the-little-moment]

What's the point of being an artist if you aren't utterly self-indulgent every once in a while? Senna and Cross.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 1

Part (1) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: Back to some good, ol' whump here. Minor ptsd, blood, broken nose, needles, profanity

WC: 3,183

“Damn it, get down!!”

“I am! Any lower and I'll need a kriffing shovel!” I snapped back, tempted to mute him just to hear myself think.

“I’ve got eyes on her, Cross; just focus on finding us a way in!” Even Echo's voice held the faintest rush of unease.

We'd known this wouldn't be easy. They'd caught someone – some big-name politician I hadn't made much effort to remember, but the Republic deemed them important enough to send us behind enemy lines to get them back.

The Marauder lay hidden nearly a dozen klicks away, nestled amidst brambles and fallen logs until even I struggled to notice it. We’d stolen a pair of Separatist transports to approach the black ops site without raising much suspicion and split up to search the compound faster. Tech and Wrecker infiltrated the northern side, Echo and I came in from the south, and Hunter was on his own along the crumbling remains of the eastern wall with Crosshair posted in the nearby tree line. He’d violently opposed my going in, but we had no means of knowing what kind of state our target would be in when we found them.

The politician was the least of my concerns, though. I’d been on edge since entering those transports. The ping of the metal walkways against our boots, the hum of the engine, even the color of the walls… it was just too similar. But were weren't on Agamar, and I hated how softly the others were stepping around me. I hated even more the undeniable knowledge that I needed them to.

That tension hadn’t lessened as we reached the Separatist black site. It looked abandoned; scarce buildings in such a perfect state of intentional disarray as to almost promise nothing but ancient debris and decades of dust lay within, but Tech's scans confirmed massive power fluctuations underground. It wasn't a huge compound, but it didn't need to be. Barely a half dozen structures remained standing, skeletal framework partially hidden by an overgrowth we now used to our own advantage as we crawled through the dense brush, thorns somehow numerous enough and sharp enough to occasionally find purchase in the slim crescents of skin left unprotected between sections of armor.

Echo and I had just finished sweeping through the second building in search of an entrance to the lower level when the site’s defenses suddenly roared to life. Numerous turrets burst from the soil that, mere seconds prior has shown no trace of anything beyond untouched wilds, and we’d just managed to hide behind a partially caved-in room before being noticed.

I could hear dozens of gears whirring to life just beyond our dilapidated shelter, the harsh crunch of leaves and branches breaking beneath heavy, metallic feet. Droids were flooding the site. We were pinned down by the turrets. And Hunter wasn’t answering his com.

“Can we make it to the next structure?” Echo asked, voice forced into a whisper.

“Not yet.” There was a long moment of silence, and I could feel myself tensing more with each passing second, legs coiled beneath me. “Now!” We were moving before the hushed order fell silent, both crouched so low that we were practically crawling, one hand occasionally darting to the ground in a gate more natural to some forest dwelling beast, but our awkward appearance didn't matter. The half dozen droids mere meters to our right posed little threat in and of themselves, but revealing our presence now might cause untold numbers to swarm. If they had Hunter, our only hope to free him was to keep ourselves hidden.

My legs burned from the effort of keeping up with Echo. He moved as though he’d been born for such things, body stalking preternaturally through tall grass and biting bramble effortlessly, but I still found myself watching him, worried I'd note some hint of a falter in his stride, but whatever strain the motion surely wrought upon his residual limbs was a torture to which he was far too accustomed to show amidst the threat lingering over us.

“Down!” We dropped harshly to the ground, and my every instinct balked at the helpless position. Mere seconds passed before the almost musical chorus of shifting counterweights and metallic limbs raced through the foliage just feet ahead of us. Droidekas. The nervous tension dancing beneath my skin turned to dread in an instant, ice bursting through my chest in a rush of panic. I didn't want to notice the way Echo glanced back toward me, the depth of concern that tiny movement conveyed. The droid presence was no longer a simple annoyance. We were in danger.

Was Crosshair switching between com channels to warn Tech and Wrecker lest their chatter create a lethal distraction? Were they balancing the risk of striking first versus continuing what felt like a doomed plight to remain unnoticed? My lungs ached from the effort of controlling each breath, body eager to fall into the too tempting frenzy of fear.

Echo’s hand flared out, signaling me to move around his left flank before readying his pistol, attention trained toward the sound of machinery falling into formation. I knew at least fifteen meters still lay between us and the next building; knew that he was purposefully placing himself between me and the enemy units; that, even among this squad of elites, Echo was the most capable soldier I could hope to have guarding my back, but, still, I had to grind my teeth against useless objections, abhorred at the very thought of letting him act either as distraction or delay if we were seen.

That fear surged anew at every shuffle of leaves and snap of twigs as I crawled forward, stealing one final glance just as I passed him. He couldn’t see the plea in my eyes, the order begging to scream from lips carefully trapped between ground teeth that he not put himself in danger, but he didn’t have to. With the smallest movement, he looked toward me in kind and offered the faintest nod, and that tiny gesture was enough to push me on.

He waited until several feet separated us before he started after me, and something about that, about knowing he was following just behind me granted me a confidence I had no right feeling, determination numbing me to the burn in my arms as I hauled myself through an undergrowth that showed no sign of the wear it ought to have from the abuse of concealing a Separatist base.

When the ridge of a tattered roof finally jutted above the line of greenery, I couldn’t restrain the deep sigh of relief, but I had to remind myself that any façade of safety feigned by the crumbling walls granted only a fool’s comfort and forced myself to pause just shy of the entrance. Echo didn’t stop until he was nearly flush against my side, and we both waited with bated breath.

“Tech and Wrecker found an entrance. If you don’t find one in there, stay hidden until they report back.” Crosshair’s voice fell into a carefully detached hum. I wanted to respond, to offer some reassurance, but we couldn’t risk even that, so I merely watched in silence as Echo took point once more, waiting for his signal before following him into the derelict structure.

Once, it stood a couple stories high, brick walls more akin to a school than a prison, but there was no sign of such possibilities within any longer. Nature had reclaimed the half-dozen rooms and interconnecting hallways long ago. Ferns draped through shattered windows, and mounds of dirt collected in the corners reached halfway to the ceilings. There was no broken furniture nor remnants of belongings hidden amidst the rubble, and I found myself wondering if it had ever been anything more than this. Had the Separatists built it solely to be abandoned; its fate preordained to ruin from the start purely to act as camouflage for what horrors lay below? I wanted to hate them for it but knew it was fueled by naivety; knew that far more had been wasted for less in this war on both sides and that even more would be lost before there would be any hope of armistice.

Only after Echo stood did I move to regain my footing as well, body still hunched forward in that instinctive drive to hide as we searched each room in turn. When he paused in what must have been the central chamber, attention trained in the corner just to the right of the doorway, I stepped back toward the hall, carefully watching for any signs of encroaching danger, my own pistols at the ready.

“We’re heading in.” Echo stated seconds before the hiss of an airlock screamed through the tense silence.

“Copy.” Crosshair replied shortly. He hated this. I knew he hated this: being forced to wait behind as we tread beyond his sight, beyond his reach should something go wrong, and my heart ached knowing there was no comfort I could offer as I turned to follow his brother down the narrow porthole into what was surely a maze of identical passages designed to be inescapable.

No veneer of color was granted to bare metal walls and exposed purlins overhead, and what few lights flickered within granted only fleeting glimpses of the lifeless passageways. This place was not created for comfort. Every detail was made through cruel intent to rob those trapped here of even the thought of warmth, and I couldn’t force the memory of that filth-stained cell from my mind; the scent of stale moisture and blood and rot.

My stride must have faltered; my pace slowed or breath hitched. Something drew Echo’s attention back to me, and shame sank into my gut like something rancid and squirming, and I couldn’t find the strength to push it back in time to dismiss it entirely.

“You alright?” He whispered it, body leaning carefully over mine as though he could hide me from the nightmare surrounding us, and I hated the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to answer him directly.

“Let’s just get Hunter and the damn politician, and get out of here.” I nearly growled. He hesitated a moment longer, and I wanted to yell; to shout that there wasn’t time for this, to berate myself for causing even this short delay, shoulders pulling back with a determination fueled by the rage I felt toward myself for my weakness. He drew a slow breath before wrenching his focus back toward the long hallway, and a shaky sigh of relief escaped me.

I wouldn’t have noticed the port had Echo not stopped suddenly beside it, needing only to shoot a quick look for me to take watch as he plugged himself in. There was no cover here, nowhere we could hide if a patrol came upon us, and each second we lingered stoked the anxious certainty that we were moments from being found, but I didn’t waver, attention shifting between the direction we’d come from and the path ahead.

“Tech, Wrecker; looks like the target’s in the far west corner. Are you guys near there?”

“We are.” Tech responded quickly. “Have you located Hunter?”

“No, but we’ll head east and see what we can find.” My heart dropped at Echo’s response, and I fought to convince myself that that didn’t mean they didn’t have him; that didn’t mean he was…

Echo disconnected from the port, and I forced myself back to attention. He didn’t say anything more before continuing forward at a quick trot, weapon held loosely before him. Our footsteps boomed around us, mocking our every attempt at quiet. We slowed at every intersection, carefully searching down each hall before crossing. It was a perfect grid, an even number of paces separating each corner for what felt like eternity.

I heard it first. It was wet. An occasional crunch of metal against meat. I knew that sound. I knew the heat of abused flesh swelling beneath the assault; knew they would kill him long before he talked.

My hand was reaching for him before consciously acknowledging the movement; a quick tap on Echo’s shoulder singling him to stop. He needed only to pause before he heard it, too, and I watched his body tense as he reached the same conclusion I had, breath quickening beneath a flare of rage and dread. Without a word, we took off toward the wretched sound. There was a rhythm to it. Two strikes and a pause. Two strikes. Pause. I couldn’t hear what they asked in those fleeting seconds between, but my mind wouldn’t let it remain quiet long enough to wonder.

Who ordered the hit?

I swallowed back the bile that tasted too akin to rancid water.

We barely slowed at crossings now, nearly sprinting through the underground base.

Who placed the bombs?

Two strikes. I could hear him cough in the brief silence that followed, heard the splatter of liquid against metal and knew it was blood.

Echo looked over his shoulder to catch my gaze, to make sure I was ready, before tearing through the door. An alarm blared. The lights flashed a deep red that paled beneath the blue of our blaster fire filling the small cell. His armor was gone, blacks torn where they’d snagged on metal fists. I didn’t count them, nor did I need my overlay’s targeting system as Echo and I stormed the room, both strafing the enemy units in a frenzied rush.

I vaguely noticed the lethal elegance of the man beside me as he dove between a pair of B2s, rolling to his feet behind them, pistol already raised and firing before he’d come to a stop. I ducked to the side just as another droid raised its arm, the wall behind me hissing as metal melted beneath the powerful, crimson shots. It didn’t get the chance to fire again, and I watched with eager satisfaction as the towering machine fell heavily to the floor.

It took mere seconds. I didn’t have time to find a new target before Echo felled the few remaining enemies, sparing only a fleeting thought toward a figure among the metal corpses that was far too soft to belong among the droids, nor did I pause to wonder if it had been my shot or Echo’s that claimed their life. Whoever they were, I was too happy to leave them to rot among the destruction they sowed, attention training instead on Hunter.

Already, Echo was working to sever the bounds securing his wrists to the metal slab behind him, and I rushed forward to catch him as his first arm fell free, wincing at the stifled groan my touch drew from him.

“T… took yuh… long ‘nough.” He slurred, jaw barely moving around the strained words.

“Not our fault you let yourself get caught at a kriffing black site.” Echo retorted, already working on his other wrist.

“S… st’nned m…” His reply broke into an agonizing flurry of coughs, thick drops of crimson smearing across my chest plate.

“Alright, enough – you can make all the excuses you want after I patch you up,” I interrupted, a gentle warning in my hushed voice, “For now, just try to slow your breathing and stay awake, alright?” His head shifted toward me in silent consent, and my worry spiked. He was barely recognizable from the sickeningly wrong angle of his nose, and already his eyes were nearly swollen shut. His ribs were far worse off, however. I could see the heavy bruising through tears in his shirt, could hear the rattle in his every hitched, shallow breath.

“I presume the alarm indicates that you’ve found Hunter?” Tech asked just as the other shackle clicked open. Hunter fell against me with a choked grunt, and I tried not to imagine the pain shooting through his torso.

“Easy; just sit back.” I murmured softly, carefully guiding him to the ground.

“Yeah. He’s hurt, but Doc’s with him.” Echo responded, already treading back toward the door to watch for incoming troops. He paused briefly at the figure lying amongst the droids, but I didn’t see what he did, attention devoted to helping the wheezing man before me.

“Hunter, I want you to focus on me for a bit, okay?” My voice left in a whisper void of the urgency with which I dug through my bag. He hummed some manner of a reply, but I couldn’t make out anything akin to actual speech.

“We located the prisoner, but… it seems we were only given a portion of the information regarding this mission.” I had to stifle a surge of frustration that I could hear mirrored in Tech’s clipped statement as my scanner buzzed to life.

“Great.” Echo groaned.

“We’ll rendezvous at the Marauder and discuss how to proceed. Crosshair, is-” He was interrupted by a violent shockwave tearing through the base.

“That… wasn’t me.” Wrecker said hesitantly after a moment of tense silence.

“All clear.” I nearly scoffed at the haughty pride in Crosshair’s voice before returning my attention to the scan results, stomach twisting as I read over his injuries.

“Looks like you’re gonna live, Sarg.” I managed to tease softly despite my own dread, earning a groan heavy with mock disappointment. “You’re going to be pissing blood for a week, though.” He let out an even less thrilled grunt that drew a quiet chuckle from me. “How about I get some pain killers in you, and you let me help you back to the ship?” His eyelids shifted but weren’t able to fully open. Still, he offered no objection when I laid an autoinjector against his neck, and my worry grew at how quickly his body went limp.

“How is he?” Echo asked, voice tense as he walked back toward us. My gaze caught on a sack thrown over his shoulder. “His armor.” He explained, much to my relief. They hadn’t had him long, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that they wouldn’t have had time to dispose of it, but it was still a stroke of luck that he was able to find it so easily.

“He’ll be alright… but we should hurry.” Even through our opaque visors, I knew he felt the intensity with which I held his gaze, that he understood the truth behind my carefully even reply. He gave a small nod and dropped to a knee at Hunter’s other side.

“Hey, brother, think you can hold on to me?” My lips pulled into a small smile at the gentleness of Echo’s deep voice, the care in his movements as he eased Hunter’s arm over his shoulders. I threw my bag back on and followed suit with his other arm.

“Mmm… m’alri’.” His dismissal faded into a barely audible mumble as we pulled him upright, head slumping toward his chest.

“Those drugs won’t last long.” I warned quietly. Again, Echo responded with a short nod, and, together, we began the lock trek back toward an exit I doubted I’d ever find without him.

Next Chapter

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Disgrace Chapter 1 : Crosshair x F!OC

Summary:

After the rise of the Empire, neutral planet Ga'hah is occupied by Imperial forces. Governorship has been assigned to Nyem'Tok Ra, a Ga'haiian native who married into Coruscant money. Nyem'Tok's business is pleasure, owning and operating The Red Spire, a collection of brothels ranging in exclusivity. The highest club on the tower is The Red Crown, managed by Governor Ra's daughter, Tah'Nyem. The socialite delinquent shadows her fathers footsteps through the underworld, and now finds herself in a political maze with no guidance for what to expect. Thus, it comes as a surprise when her father insists she take a military escort back to Ga'hah suddenly one evening. Aboard the ship she meets an unlikely ally, a "defective" clone Commander on light duty after a long stint at sea. These two castaways feel a kinship, as if their worlds are changing too fast to leave a place for them. Will they be able to survive the shift, or be crushed by the traps that seem to be set for them both.

Warnings: MC pushes boundaries, rough sexual tension. Some nasty threats made at MC. Sex work is legal/respected. MC swears a lot but its all in universe slang so technically she doesn't.

As for Tah'Nyem, her family control's the red light district on Coruscant. She's gonna have some social issues when it comes to boundaries and objectification. Sex positive af though, and don't insult sex workers around her that's her friends and family and she will fight you.

Word Count: 6k+

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua.

Read On Ao3 - Next Chapter >

Music Inspo- Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge

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It's Illustrated

The first nine chapters of this fic are written (as of today, I'm just illustrating as I release...hopefully weekly? No promises. There's a planned 16 chaptahs.)

Droplets patter across the roof of the palanquin as the shadows on the emergency port darted back and forth through the icy rain making their preparations. I catch the look of boredom in my reflection as a small regime of Troopers exited the transport and began receiving instructions from someone obscured from view by the artificial downpour and darkness. A figure crosses my window and I’m startled from my idle observing. It’s father. He presses his thumb to the window frame and the barrier blinks out of existence. 

“Now, li’ha. These nice gentlemen will be escorting you back home, Don’t fuss, Do as you’re told.” 

I pursed my lips at the condescending tone in his voice. 

“Are you not coming? What's going on Vah'hadarr?” 

The secret tunnels, the emergency exit, and now Empire Troopers escorting me separately from my parents. One didn’t need The Force to feel something was off here.

“Vah’ha!” 

The pleading in my voice was heavy, but my father simply cast a pitying look in my direction before disappearing out of view once again. My mother quickly filled the space in his stead and she leaned in to whisper to me hurriedly. 

“We will be right behind you. Listen to the soldiers, and Tah’nyem,” 

She reached in and grabbed my chin, turning me to meet her eyes.

 “Be. Have.” 

I couldn’t help but slip into a sly smile. 

“Who me? What on Ga’hah could I do?”

I was feigning ignorance. I had a tendency to make my own fun in stretches of dire boredom... This wasn’t the first talking to she felt the need to impart on me.

“It’s different when you use to toy with the occasional padawan Tahny… but your father’s friends are dangerous men. Be careful who you rile up.”

It is quite unfortunate, but she’s right.

 “I’ll behave.” 

I finally acquiesced and she released my face leaving me to fall back against the plush seat. She slipped off to find my father and I closed the window to lean against it once more.

However… 

How much trouble can I really get up too in a tiny can full of little soldiers?

A wicked grin bloomed across my face and my eyes flicked back to the transport. A straggler was exiting the ship and just now joining the six other men. 

A strong gust of wind parted the curtain of rain giving me a clearer view of the newcomer. His armor was black, the helmet coming to a sharper silhouette. The downpour closed in again, obscuring him into black smudged profile standing lean and tall over the other Troopers. 

Must not be a clone…

There’ve been whispers of a new defense bill for soldiers to be conscripted rather than cloned now that the war was over… I didn't think they had voted on that yet. 

Who knows what was happening with the clones. With the destruction of Kamino so recent, you would assume Coruscant would be crawling with them. They must be relocating them to other, less inhabited worlds or… something. Either way, the holonet was silent on the matter. Not many showed much care or concern for the spontaneous army in our midst. 

There was a small vibration through the seat and the palanquin began its descent to the dock, the rhythmic patter from the roof fading to nothing as it passed under the nose of the ship. I could see my father shaking hands with someone and clapping them on the back before disappearing out of view again. The Troopers were just outside now and my confidence was fading as the questions came rushing back. 

Something is very, very wrong… I’ve never even seen a Trooper up close till now…

The side panel slid open with a soft hiss and the port master leaned in offering me his hand. I carefully gathered my hem and let him balance me as I stepped onto the slippery steel of the dock. The man I couldn’t make out before, who seemed to be in charge, stepped forward and gave me a formal salute. 

He was short, and paunchy, with a dark handlebar of a mustache and gray patches at the temple. His skin was ruddy from too much sun and he had a sour smile that didn't reach his eyes, which, were unfortunately now aimed at me. 

“Tah’nyem Ra, it will be a pleasure to escort you back to Ga’hah. My name is Lieutenant Hervos. Please,” 

He crooked his elbow and turned to guide me onto the ship. I squeezed the harbor master’s hand and released it, transferring to the offered arm of the Lieutenant. He took the lead and dragged me along to the rampway, lending some freedom to glance at the soldiers trailing behind us. 

The tall man was now in front of the other six troopers and I determined he was probably in charge of the squad. My eyes flicked up to the visor, shining, green and opaque to me. The hair rose on the back of my neck, betraying the intensity of the gaze behind the iridescent panel. It felt like a target had been painted on my back and I stood a little straighter to battle the tingling that had started in my spine. 

Isn't he… Intimidating.

Once again, I’m left wondering why I warranted such a vanguard. 

Father was a businessman turned politician, but other than that he was a nobody from a backwater world with just enough civilization to compete in the now united Empire. Our family had mostly lived and operated on Coruscant before the beginning of the war, now that Ga'hah was part of the Empire, they wanted someone loyal in control of the planet. So, now I find myself the daughter of a governor… Wouldn't explain the present circumstances… 

Why guard me and not my father?

Our procession halted and the doors shut behind the assembled bodies with a mechanical whine. White and gray painted metal and a harsh white light framed the bland, utilitarian interior. It seemed like we were in the main holding area of the vessel, with a circular navigation module at the center of the space, displaying halomaps of the sectors we'd travel through, and some simple strapped benches lining the walls. 

The Lieutenant released my arm and stepped forward to address us as a whole. 

“It will be nearly six rotations till we reach Ga’hah. We’ll be jumping to hyperspace immediately once we confirm our clearance.  Please lead our guest to her… accommodations.” 

He seemed to chew on the last word as if he didn’t want to let it free of his lips and I could feel my eyebrows raise a little despite my attempts to keep my face neutral as he spoke. 

“A pleasure,” he had said. 

It was obvious once he was done with appearances that this was the last assignment he could care for and I squirmed at having to spend so much time locked in with the unpleasant man. 

Ga’hah was a small planet whose system was just inside the outer rim. The teal, polar oceans and temperate climate of its locked dark side made it a popular stop to refuel, resulting in a robust tourist industry over the centuries. 

Though the planet had been neutral, as soon as the war was over the Empire occupied the Western mining stations and rail line. Apparently not much has changed, the Southwest having been desolate for a while now, the occupation made the area feel alive. Not like I would know, I’ve been off-world since I started secondary school. I hated to admit it, but it would be nice to see home. 

Hervos turned on his heel and walked through a door disappearing with the soft shush of it closing behind him. 

Now then…

I rolled my head on my neck and stretched my arms above my head, letting out a lascivious groan. Sitting in the palanquin for so long had left me stiff. The thin shift of my traditional garb slid upward exposing my lower back and stomach, and I turned my head to look at the assembled soldiers. 

“Which of you nice, strong, men will help me to my room?” 

I slowly lowered my hands, trailing them over my own skin as I turned to face them properly, slipping into the character I've played almost every night.

“I should probably…change? Into something more… comfortable?” 

The group shifted here and there, obviously not knowing what to do and subtly not knowing where to look, the fine cloth of Ga’hah clung to the body leaving little to the imagination. It was too easy, and I was starting to feel disappointed in the Empire’s finest. 

An exasperated sigh broke the silence.

“This way.” 

The voice was soft, a steady, rasping slither and my eyes snapped sharply to look at the soldier in black armor. It wasn’t what I was expecting out of him, but the sound washed through me like gray silk, cold, caressing. I stifled a shiver. It was an alien feeling and my mask faltered a moment.

Interesting…

He had stepped forward to lead me and once he seemed satisfied that I would follow, turned wordlessly to the rear of the transport forcing me to fall in step behind him. 

I eyed the slender man as he led me down a boring corridor that looked like the rest of the boring corridors. Nice shoulders, slim waist, even, confident gate. My gaze was lingering and I shook myself.

Interesting indeed… 

“You got a name, tough guy?” 

The pointed mask didn’t reply. I eyed the dark armor now that I was up close and unobscured by torrential rain. Some sort of sensor jiggled from the helmet, not uncommon. It would look silly if the piece didn't scream of deadly purpose. Other than that it was mostly unique do to it's color and sleeker waistline. 

I picked up my pace to walk abreast, but my shorter stature struggled to keep up with the long strides that seemed to prefer staying ahead of me. 

“C’mon now, I need to call you something. How am I supposed to ask for you specifically?” 

I kept my voice casual, thinking the tookesque archetype wasn’t going to win me any points with this one. Jogging forward a little I turned to walk backwards forcing him to slow. I could finally see the front of the armor’s plates and the final piece of the puzzle; a subtle series of dents and wear against the right pauldron and chestplate. 

Sniper. For sure. 

“CT-9904.”

“CT-9904?”

He didn’t speak again. 

“That’s not really a name.” 

“No. It’s not.” 

He stopped in front of a door and hit the panel just a little too forcefully. 

I stepped inside and my possessions were tossed unceremoniously on the floor next to me. The Trooper filled the doorway, not showing any signs of leaving.

“You planning on watching, C.T.9.9.0.4?” 

I hit each syllable pointedly as I dropped the loose neck of my shawl from my shoulders to hang from where I held it over my chest. 

He straightened abruptly and hit the panel, separating us with a clank of metal. I pouted exaggeratedly at the closed door and then giggled softly to myself. 

Gotcha tough guy. 

I let the shawl fall the rest of the way to the floor and reached for the bag holding my street wear. Pulling out my little comlink, I strapped it to my wrist and dialed Kahtzi's channel. 

There's no way she's back by now…

It was the begining of the evening for the club world, and she was usually working till dawn. As expected the receiver beeped and dropped me into an away message prompting me for a recording. To bad, I was told not to make any calls once I left the planet. 

“Kahtzi, I've been whisked away very rudely and won't be able to call you again till I get to Ga'hah. Vah'hadarr is arranging for my absence at The Crown… Sorry I won't be able to go to The Galleria with you… talk to you in a few days.- oh! There's someone here. Someone, interesting,”

I giggled a little, thinking of her getting the recording and having to sit in anticipation while I traveled,

“Pray for him, Goodnight li’nen,”

Ending the recording with a sigh I reached for my clothes. The room was freezing and my bare skin ached in the cold. The pants and sweater in the more conservative Coruscant style was welcomed, and I sighed as the heavy fabric began to trap my heat to me. 

I zipped up the vest and looked at myself in the tall mirror on the wall. The clothes were stuffy but did their job in making me less obtrusive. The bright lights made the white layer of my hair too harsh and for a moment I wished it was black throughout. I reached up and removed the golden adornment dangling from my left ear finishing the look. 

Kicking the duffle bag under the bunk I cast my eyes about the barren and depressing crevice I would be sleeping in. 

Three whole days, Be’llahl save me.

I thought about my new friend in black and smirked. Maybe the benevolent old one already had. He’ll be tough to crack, but then again, that’s the only thing that made it worth it. Why play with someone if they can’t make it fun for me, right?

The tickle in my spine was back, that might… complicate things. 

Only if you let it.

The smell of hot caf drifted to me, breaking the cold and unfamiliar with a burst of warmth and comfort. 

I wonder if the galley is close by…

They might not like me wandering by myself but I don’t need an escort to grab a cup of warm, bitter nectar. Well… as long as a certain someone isn’t just hanging around the door. 

I looked at the solid metal and cursed the design of military vehicles. No way of telling if any one was out there. 

I leaned on the door and closed my eyes, listening. Nothing but the electric thrum of the ship’s systems. 

If it’s clear, it’s clear.

If it’s not and he’s there, well… we’ll just play another round won’t we?

The thought elated through me as I pressed the key and the door slid open ungracefully, the loud clank of metal making me suspicious that the room choice was deliberate. Casting my eyes to either side of the hallway… it seemed I was alone. 

Left and right look the same… I came from that way but which way is the galley…

Not caring for dignity, I sniffed the air, trying to place the smell’s origin. 

Ah hah! Right!

The walls were cold as I slid my fingertips over the grated panels, feeling the texture as I made my way along. It wasn’t far till I came to a brightly lit room smelling strongly of caf. 

There it is. 

I turned into the room and eyed the gathering of men sitting at the crowded table spanning the middle of the room. They stopped talking as I glanced over them. 

Definitely not supposed to be here…

“I’d like some of that caf, if you will.”

There was an open stool at the far end of the table and I perched myself delicately upon it. 

They were slow to react, but two of the soldiers suddenly stood and headed to the caf dispenser. 

Most of the men had removed their helmets and I couldn’t help but stare at their identical features. It was unsettling me more than I thought it would as I scanned each of them. Different haircuts. Different tattoos. Different Scars. Same face. There was something wrong about it, but I’m stuck deciding if it’s the clone aspect or if it had to do with the dull sheen that flickered in their eyes like they weren’t really in there looking out. 

Groups of troopers on leave used to be common in the red district until about a year ago, but they rarely made it to the top of The Spire where I was usually stationed. A clone at The Red Crown was practically unheard of. Not that a few hadn't been invited as guests by high priority clients, but I always seemed to be out when it happened.

I finally turned to look directly in front of me.

By the counter, separating himself from the other troopers, CT-9904 leaned against the corner pouring himself a caf and pointedly blocking the two troopers who went to retrieve me a cup. His helmet was also missing and I was surprised at the web of scar tissue branching over his right ear. It looked fresh.

His eyes met mine and I raised a brow at him. He had a circle tattooed around one of his eyes, and a bit more I couldn’t make out from over here, but… lines maybe? 

Tough guy indeed. Is he going to let them do their job?

He barked something at them that sounded rude then spoke up so I could hear him.

“Get it yourself, princess.”

His tone was mocking, and it insulted me… but to let him know would lose me the round. 

Good to see he knows the rules.

 I smiled and tilted my head.

“I’ll give you a tip if you get it for me, tough guy.”

He downed the rest of his cup and placed a toothpick in his mouth, never breaking eye contact, before pushing himself off the wall. Strutting from the room he threw a last glaring smirk of challenge in my direction before exiting the galley and leaving me alone with the squad. 

My gaze lingered on the door, brow raised at the sass that was just on display. 

…

“Well, can any of you help a girl out?”

I glanced at the gathered men and they looked back at me uncomfortably. The six soldiers seemed rather reserved, eager to serve… but something was keeping them from bending to my request. 

“Uh… Commander Crosshair ordered us not to… uh…ma’am.”

I let out an exasperated huff.

Commander Crosshair, huh. 

The tattoo registered clearer now, plus with the context of the rifle wear on his armor…

A little on the nose don’t you think? We'll, if that’s how you’re gonna play…

“‘Princess,’”

I muttered, scoffingly as I got up and paced to the caf dispenser, grabbing a cup from the side.

“You're lucky he didn't call you BLOB,”

The nearest clone chuckled, hearing my disdain.

“That's just charming, a friendly bunch aren't you?”

I pressed the button on the machine filling the cup with a dark, robust smelling, refreshment.

Finally

My shoulders relaxed as I put the cup to my lips, drawing a mouthful of hot liquid …and immediately spat it out. There was a guffaw from the table. 

Oh that is awful. Enough playing, we’re finding the executive pot. 

Not bothering to excuse myself, I wandered back into the hall ignoring the snickering aimed in my direction. 

Kriff em. Where’s the Lieutenant get his caf from?

I pause in the hallway, realizing I was avoiding the itching in my brain by chasing a small comfort. Think. There's always a reason, and I need to know why I'm here. 

I started walking again, at a slower pace and listened. So far only my own footsteps… and then, voices. 

I crept to the opened arch where Hevos stood with another man positioned before a large consol. 

“We have the coordinates and once our clearance is registered we’ll be on our way out of orbit.”

It sounded like the usual preparations. 

“Any signs we may have pursuers?” 

I stopped breathing and focused on the Lieutenant’s back. There’s pursuers now? 

The varp did I do?

A hand closed firmly around my arm, and yanked me back down the hall. 

“Time to go back to your room, princess.”

The raspy voice was engraing itself in my brain, growing more familiar as he dragged me away from the conversation I desperately wanted to overhear. 

“You know that’s a far cry from my actual title, I’m actually- HEY”

I was once again dumped into the sad little cubby, the door clunking shut behind me in what was quickly becoming our usual goodbye.

My mood was boiling over and I kicked the panel in the beginning of a tantrum. 

You know what? You're not in charge here. 

I hit the button on my door… and nothing happened. I hit it a few more times…locked in. A frustrated cry escaped me and I slammed my fists into the metal repeatedly. 

He can’t DO that!

But my arms quickly tire, and I slump to the floor with my back to the door. Less than an hour and I’ve already been locked into my quarters. Terrific.

I crawled into the bunk and closed my eyes. I really hope everything is exactly what I'm being told…

One thing’s for sure…

I reached under the bunk and searched the bag with my fingertips looking for the cold, small chunk of metal. Finally finding it and withdrawing the recording device into the light. 

I don't trust any of this. 

~~~

A rhythmic clanging rang through my half woken thoughts and my eyes fluttered open, refocusing on the dull room of the military ship. Someone was knocking.

“Come in?”

The door slid open revealing Lieutenant Hevos, his face twisted in an expression of false hospitality. 

“Care for supper, Tah’nyem Ra?”

“Oh! Yes… yes, of course. Give me a moment.”

The door shut again and I walked to the mini fresher tucked into the corner to splash some water on my face and straighten my ruffled hair. Scratching at the short black strands on the back of my neck I smoothed the uneven, asymetrical bob till it once again lay flat. My eyes reflected the stress of sudden departure and fitful napping and I pinched my cheeks to bring out some color. 

Back in front of the door I shake myself gently, organizing my thoughts, preparing for the unpleasant pleasantries ahead.  I was ready, and hit the button letting me into the hall. 

Lieutenant Hevos doesn’t turn to look at me, and simply offers his arm like he had at the loading dock. I took it, and he led me slightly further than I managed to venture earlier through the compact vessel. He steered me into a small but formal dining room fitted with slightly more adornments than the rest of the ship.

“It’s good to know they let you have some nice things, Lieutenant.”

“They made an extra effort on your account.” 

He dropped his arm and my hand along with it, making his way to the chair at the far end of the table. 

“They shouldn’t have.”

They really, really shouldn’t have.

I eyed the sad plant at the center of the table and took a seat opposite the Lieutenant. I resented the contempt radiating out of his cold, polite smile and I flashed a venom laced grin back. 

What a wonderful companion for meal times. 

My thoughts drifted to the tall Commander stored somewhere on the ship. Somewhere that was else. He would surely make for a more entertaining company… 

I picked at a scratch on the table top. Must have been pouting like a child, because when I looked back up at Hevos his hateful expression was colored with a layer of puzzlement. He regained his composure and I reorganized my features to reflect the coldness the situation called for, my mother’s words ringing in my head:

“Your fathers friends are dangerous men.”

“Shall we?” 

He didn’t wait for a response, pressing a com signaling for our food to be brought. 

“You shook hands with Vah’hadarr at the dock. Do you know each other?”

He stiffened. Of course, asking someone if they're friendly with my father was a rather loaded question, but his sudden discomfort spoke volumes. 

“I’m assigned to the governor’s enforcement battalion, that is all,” 

How far in father's pockets are you Lieutenant?

It's true a few of these small ships were for father's uses, but the soldiers still answered to the Emperor. We weren't much involved on who was assigned where, a little money could go a long way in securing loyalty.

The trays arrived, smoking with a nice cut of meat and roasted greens, the red juices pooling on the plate. I picked up my utensil and poked at the food. Nothing in the galley looked this fresh and I wondered if this was another benevolent “accommodation”. 

“Do you ever eat with your men, Lieutenant?”

I once again lost interest in being careful and political and took the lead in starting the conversation with something that might lead to some stimulation. 

Sitting at this table with this man is going to bore me. to. death. 

He chuckled without mirth, and fixed me with those hateful eyes.

“Those aren’t men.”

He said it without a blink or a tremor. He meant it. 

“They may look like men,” He continued, “but they’re just tools for the empire. Outdated tools at that.” 

His tone had taken on a shade of self pity, as if he felt he was above serving with clones. 

“They seem to be unique individuals, despite appearances…”

I thought about the variety in body language, the haircuts, the tattoos…a specific tattoo. 

Focus.

He scoffed, and ungracefully stuffed a cut of meat into his gullet.

“They’re more than expendable, and are being phased out as we speak, you should be wary of seeing them as people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, so I pressed on. 

“What about the Commander? He seems… different.” 

The thin face floated back into focus. It was similar to the others, but the elongated features gave him a more unique look. No denying he was a clone though. 

“That one's more like a monster.” 

He shoved another forkful of meat into his jowls and I eyed a trail of blood dripping down his chin in disgust. 

“Don’t keep me in the dark Lieutenant, Elaborate.”

The Lieutenant set his utensil down with a harsh clatter and fixed his eyes on me with all seriousness. 

“That clone was bred to be vicious, elite, Black Ops, His most recent mission he wiped out the rest of his special unit, these clones feel nothing and they shoot at what they're told, even their own comrades, don't trust them… they're not people, Miss Ra, remember that,”

I chewed as I processed this. 

Their own comrades? Other clones it seems… Jedi too maybe?

The betrayal of the Jedi had been a rather hot topic on Coruscant over the past year. I was starting to believe the rumors that they were being wiped out…

Something else bothered me about the divulged information, something that probably wasn't supposed to slip. 

“Lieutenant… Why is a Black Ops sniper included in my escort to Ga’hah?”

Only a flicker of the grim composer before he covered,

“He's being transferred to his new assignment, this just kills two birds with one stone,”

Maybe I'm overthinking all of this…

 He finished his meal and stood.

“Tah’nyem Ra.” 

A quick nod and he left me alone in the dining room. For someone under “Black Ops” guard they sure have no interest in actually being around me. Then again, where the kark could I really get off to. 

After eating what I could off my plate I stood up to look around the pitifully decorated room. I fingered the bug in my pocket and weighed whether this might be a good place for it. 

No… doesn't look like it gets used much…

The little device had been left in the manager's office of The Crown. Apparently one of the Ja’hans had a thing for listening to his favorite girl… uh… meeting with other clients. 

Can’t have that now…

I was thinking idle thoughts about my father's business and the clientele in question while determining what to do with the recorder. 

The bug was primitive, just an on/ playback switch, timer, and a com jack. No remote access. Nice and discreet, but that does mean wherever I put it I’ll need to be able to get it back. I had checked briefly, but the device should record for 72 hours before looping over itself… 

I’ll need to retrieve it before then. 

There were two exits to the room and I determined if I should head into the hall or through the door the food trays had been brought in from. I thought back to the quick walk with the Lieutenant, taking inventory of the doors between here and mine. At least one should be another quarter room, leaving two others to be anything. I shifted my attention to the service door and knew it was where I was headed. I wanted to know what’s back there.

I pushed the panel and thankfully it opened. I wouldn’t be able to hack my way in, so I’m really staking on most doors just being…unlocked.

Good plan. Wander through a military ship on a prayer they just leave things unlocked. Very plausible. No notes.

I stopped chidding myself and slipped into the narrower service hall. It was darker, the walls less presentable with visible tubes and wires and blinking, lighted panels. The air was warmer here, smelling of dust and hot plastics.

This is promising. 

Looking over the guts of the ship I tried to determine if left or right down the hall would yield better results for a room the Lieutenant might let loose in. 

Et tu, beck tu, Nah-mehn-da!

I playfully pointed my finger at the tubes, selecting the thickest of them and turning to follow it down the left hall. 

The passage was disappointingly short and it wasn’t long till I was spit back into the main hall. Orienting myself, I figured I was just beyond the galley and turned to retrace my steps back to the bridge. 

The corridor was dark, the dimmed lights the only hint that it was night. I found the door I was looking for and paused…

Hope you’re empty…

I hit the panel next to the door and it smoothly slid open. 

The bridge was vacant as I had hoped, the hypnotizing array of hyperspace bathing the room in flashing light. 

I judged the three consoles in the room. 

The one in the middle should do…

Hopefully it'll be the one the Lieutenant would stand closest to. I crouched and wedged the little recorder under the lip of the keyboard. Looking at my watch, I set the timer to start recording six hours from now. 

I stood up, and once again turned to the vastness of space whipping past me at unfathomable speeds. The job was done so I let myself sink into the moment, marveling at how many stars and planets there really were out there. 

I jumped a little at the sound of the door sliding open and straightened from where I was leaning against the consol. I turned around, trying to keep my face innocent. 

It was Crosshair, and the surprise at finding someone here only colored his expression a moment before being reeled in. 

“Come to look at the stars, tough guy?”

He flicked the toothpick between his lips from side to side, as if making a decision, and turned to leave.

A pained sound escaped me before I even really knew I made it…

Uh…

It caused him pause though, and he turned back.

“I’m sorry. You should stay…” 

“I was hoping to be… alone.”

“I’ll be quiet” 

I crooked my fingers into the symbol of promise. 

“By Be’llahl.”

He hesitated but seemed satisfied by that. Silently he strode to the left console and sat propping his boots next to the keys and switches. I leaned against my console of choice again and turned back to the infinite stars, my eyes occasionally wandering to the shadow of his head, the angry patch of melted skin over his ear.

A thousand ideas on how to annoy the man flitted through me, but I had made a promise and squashed the impulse to play around. 

Time and place… besides, I swore by Be’llahl…

I wasn’t really sure why it mattered, possibly had to do with how tired he looked. It was one thing to mess with entitled little rich boys on Coruscant, but the man sitting across the room was a hardened soldier. He could have a time out.

“That one's a monster…”

Would he be ordered to shoot for no reason? 

I glanced at the tired silhouette again, it didn't seem like he wore the fatigue in a carefree kind of way. They must feel… surely.

We stayed there, silently, for nearly an hour before he stood and stretched, gazing at me a moment…

“C’mon. I should escort you back to your quarters.”

Silently, I got up and followed him out, only speaking once we had left the threshold of the bridge. Time out over.

“Do you come here often?”

I matched his pace as we set down the hall he himself had dragged me down hours before. 

“What happened to being quiet?”

“We left.”

I swear he rolled his eyes, but either way, he dodged the question. I dropped it, allowing him a few more moments of peace before we arrived at my stateroom.

Coming astride my door he started to turn as if to leave me on my own but I caught his arm pulling him back. 

I leaned against the wall and pulled him to me, taking the docile position of being trapped looking up at him. 

“You should stay here too…”

I placed his hands on my hips and though he didn’t recoil it did seem like a grimace passed over him a moment and I raised my brow in question. 

“You shouldn’t get involved with soldiers, princess.”

He slipped his hands from my waist.

“And leave the Regs out of it. They’re risking a court martial just looking at you.”

Something tells me they wouldn't be as… fun.

A very real ache was growing in me, a little follow through couldn't hurt… just this once. 

“Let me change your mind, how can I make you stay?”

I hooked my fingers into the utility belt at his hips, not letting him get away yet. My voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. 

“How long, do you think, till you break a rule or two?”

His voice came out in a low growl.

“It isn’t the rules keeping me from giving you what you’re asking for.”

He gripped my shoulders and pushed me harder into the metal behind me, causing an involuntary flutter through my groin as he bent to look me in the eyes.

“You, princess, have no idea what you’ve stepped into here,”

“I think I can take you, tough guy.”

I leaned forward, brushing a cheek against his ear.

“What do you have to lose?”

The question was full of promise,

Kriff it, I know it's been hours but I want him.

…

“I don't know anymore,”

The whisper was soft, and fell from him as if he had accidentally let it go. 

He tried to push off but I held tight and he took hold of me again, pushing the panel on the wall opening the door to my quarters with a clank. I was thrown in, more forcefully than before, my body splaying in a disgraceful position on the bunk. I left myself disheveled and looked up as he took a step into the room.

Our eyes met and I held him there, challenging him to give in and take things further.

We were still a moment, tensed, and in stalemate between my resolve and his.

“A-hem.”

Crosshair spun as the Lieutenant cleared his throat in the doorway.

“I hope I’m not…interrupting…”

“I was just putting our guest back in her crate,” 

He said it smoothly, nothing to hint at the mix of emotions that had been there before.

“Good, Wouldn’t want you caught up in anything…regrettable.”

The taller man straightened and left the room, bumping the shoulder of the Lieutenant as he passed. 

Hervos then fixed his eyes on me, hungrily looking over my legs still sprawled across the bunk. I crossed my knees and sat up to make the show less inviting and get him on his way. His eyes flicked back up to my face.

“They told me about you, Your…reputation… in the briefing for this transport,”

I stiffened. What do they know? It wasn’t all that bad honestly, but I had started a few things that got a little…out of control.

“Don’t distract my soldiers, or I’ll put you in your place myself, Which, I can assure you, will be far more enjoyable than what a squad of troopers might have in store for you,”

His eyes flicked down my body once more and he smiled the first genuine grin since I had arrived… I stifled a shiver. 

Instead, he received a rude gesture and I spit in his direction defiantly. 

“They seem far more charitable than you, Lieutenant.”

His face twisted into the more familiar anger and he forcefully pressed the panel on the wall.

The door clanked shut as he left me to myself and I scrambled off the bunk, slamming the inner lock on the door panel. 

I stood still, staring at the closed door and slowed my breathing. I shouldn’t have let him get to me. 

Calmer, I went to the refresher and started the water in the narrow stall. 

Stepping into the warm stream the rest of the tension left my body and I could let my mind drift to more pleasant things.

I pursed my lips remembering what was interrupted. 

How close was he really… toe on the line?

I had the feeling his nerves were stronger than the earlier episode might suggest…

Not used to being turned down I slipped the feeling on like a cloak, noting its weight and deciding how to think about it.

I don’t like it.

I don’t usually drive things so far either;  Always to an edge but never over it… Maintain the mystique. Only ever tempted if there was that…

Electricity?

I shivered as a certain intense gaze drifted through my thoughts again. 

No, it was odd for me to want to throw the match like that… few times it's happened before… 

They never resisted. 

I turned the water off and dripped dry a moment before stepping out into the cold.

Wrapping a warm shawl about myself I crawled onto the bunk, hugging my knees to my chest, letting my heavy lids fall shut.

“You have no idea what you’ve stepped into…”

How so? I’ll have to rip that out of him.

I grinned to myself at that, thinking of the fire in those steely, intense eyes. 

Oh yes…

I stretched out slidding my hands down the skin of my torso, down my thighs, enjoying the sparks racing from my trailing fingertips to my brain. Electric.

… I’m gonna kriffing tear you apart.

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

Bro, Echo is going to have a FIT after hearing that Omega got captured again, but this time, it was her idea. And I'm not saying that in a joking manner.

He keeps going off on separate missions away from the others, and each time he comes back, the brothers are either fighting, something happened with Omega or they're being chased by something.

This time, it's all of that including the Maurader being destroyed after this week's episode.