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#the bad batch hunter x oc reader
skellymom · 3 months
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"Vagabonds" Chapter 13 "Precious Cargo"
Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC
Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.
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ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
To read Chapter 12:
https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747902380483526656/vagabonds-chapter-12?source=share
Word Count: 1.7K
Background: Hunter contemplates his relationship choices.
Mad comes clean about what EXACTLY transpired during her last job on Ord Mantell.
I was SUPPOSED to have this part of the series done by May. But, got serious writer's block. Sorry so late. THIS is the shoe that needed to drop plot-wise.
To help with any confusion: Mad's Clone trans sister (non bio) is named "SHE" (mentioned in Chapter #9 "In The Beginning") and her name is capitalized to prevent any confusion of what character is being spoken of.
Warning: Swearing, flirting, brief discussion of female reproduction/menopause.
(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )
Recap:
Hunter laid on his bunk sifting through the events that transpired since he met Mad. 
The throbbing pain between his legs, burning scratch on his face...the deep bite mark that FINALLY stopped bleeding. 
His heart ached a bit too. Pain, love, lust, yearning, uncertainty...so much...felt like it would explode. 
Cid’s words bounced around his head...paining him that she was possibly RIGHT. It was the ONLY accurate intel Cid had ever given him. 
“Ya looking for a world of hurt, Bandana?  “Cause that’s all you’re gonna get with that one.” 
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"Precious Cargo"
She wasn’t the first woman Hunter had...but the first that stayed around longer than a few days. That was a record for him... 
Not due to infidelity or any other reason. It was only due to the war. No time to date. Heck, no time for hobbies, other jobs...or A job. He was property. Owned and controlled. The trajectory of his life beyond his own control. Not just him, either. A planet’s worth of enslaved men posing as blaster fodder. 
He was just a clone. What did he know about women. Dating, sexual relations, or reproduction were NEVER taught on Kamino. It was expressly forbidden among the Kaminoan's...the Republic as well. Hunter was lucky enough with his looks, hair, body to be pursued by MANY women to have learned about these things. However, how their minds worked and long-term relationships...that was another thing altogether.  
But no matter how he doubted, there was still a feeling of euphoria and happiness like he had never felt before. These feelings happened around Mad only. She was brave, vibrant, resourceful, protective... These things excited him. 
Is this what love feels like? 
Well...no lie...some considerable lust in there too.  
I’m sure Mad would agree with me... 
Hunter inhaled sharply, then chuckled... 
Maker...What did I get myself into? 
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Mad finally awoke from the darkness. She lay there feeling weak. A heaviness in her abdomen...again??? 
She glanced down to see Tiggy outstretched and laying over her abdomen. The puppy looked much larger than she remembered. Tig was starting to lose her puppy fat, and her limbs seemed longer. She stretched out and yawned. Her puppy tail wagging and whipping the blanket. 
Mad tried to move, but both arms were strapped to the bunk. One of which had an IV line and fluids. She was also hooked up to a urinary catheter. Mad could feel the line between her legs. 
How long have I been out??? 
A few days. Love’s hand caressed Mad’s head. She looked up at them, levitating near the front of the bunk. You had me worried. 
I’m awake now. You look good for someone who vaporized a Venator. 
Love smugly smiled, then the concerned expression came back. You look BETTER for a person who was unresponsive. 
Sil? Omega? Hunter? 
They’re fine.  
Why am I in restraints??? 
Love looked gravely at Mad 
Oh no... 
Yeah, the dreams came back. 
Was that it?  
Love seemed reluctant to say any more. They didn’t need to as Hunter quietly entered the room. 
“Mad?” He whispered 
She immediately noticed the large bandage at the crook of his neck and the deep scratches on his face. 
“Did I...do that?” she asked quietly. 
He nodded as he sat down on the bunk beside her. 
“Oh Hunter...” Mad was clearly feeling shame and embarrassment. 
“You were delirious at the time...” He started undoing the restraints while giving her a reassuring smile. “The Mad I know wasn’t in control.” 
“This hasn’t happened...for quite a few years.” 
Concern creased Hunter’s brow. He was silent...waiting for Mad to answer if she felt safe enough to.  
Tiggy wimpered quietly and snuggled up next to Hunter. He put his arm around her. 
“My ORIGINAL family were experimental subjects for the Kaminoan’s.” 
Hunter was horrified. He also vaguely remembered strange things happening to him as a very young clone, his brothers too...possibly Omega had as well. 
“What? I thought you’re Nomaadi??” 
“I am. And the Nomaadi are my family now...but I HAD a biological mother and father that were not of The Star People...” 
“Had?” 
“All that I remember about them is fuzzy. I was VERY young when Maami and Paapi Daal took me in. A clone squad smuggled me out of the facility...along with a young defective clone. It’s been a LONG time since I’ve acted out in a fugue state...” 
Hunter was shocked. He had NEVER heard of this. 
“Only saw clones on Kamino. We clones were the only test subjects in the laboratories.” 
The Kaminoan’s have more than one facility on several planets. Love interjected. 
Hunter shifted unexpectedly. He forgot Love was able to speak to him through the Force. He wondered if it had to do with his enhanced senses.  
Mad caught Hunter’s expression. “...you can hear Love through the Force, can’t you?” 
He nodded. 
“So can Omega. Other than Sil and Tiggy, nobody else can. It’s a Force Bond...it’s SUPPOSED to be rare.” 
“Wait...you escaped with ANOTHER defective clone???” Hunter shook his head. 
Auntie SHE! Best Auntie EVER...well, next to mom... Love smoothed Mad’s hair back lovingly. 
Love and Hunter gazed at each other and smiled. Tiggy wagged her tail exuberantly. 
“I have SO MANY questions...” Hunter’s mind going in a million directions. 
“We’re pleased to see you awake.” Tech entered bringing Wrecker, Echo, Sil, and Omega with him. Tiggy excitedly ran to the end of the bed and launched herself at Echo. 
“NO!” Echo ducked behind Wrecker. 
Wrecker caught the pup in midair and hugged her to him. “Echo’s still gun-shy. You’re a scary widdle puppy dog!”  
Tiggy then begged to see Omega. Wrecker handed the puppy to her. Tiggy licked Omega’s face into a sloppy mess. The sound of her laughter lightened Hunter’s mood considerably 
Hunter glanced back at Mad. “What exactly happened during that job on Ord Mantell?” 
Mad’s eyes widened. It didn’t occur to her until now. The dreams were also stirred up from her visiting Dr. Zebba and the violence afterward. Everyone in the room stared expectantly at Mad. 
She and this botched job had thrust everyone aboard into this current situation. 
Sil showed us what was in the cooler. And the shot he gave you. Love Force Spoke and signed in Basic. I thought you were supposed to bring back two people with some cargo? 
“The parameters of the job changed at the last minute.” Mad sighed. 
Everyone in the room glanced at each other. 
Hunter needed answers. “WHAT changed?” 
Mad inhaled deeply. “There were supposed to be a courier for the cargo and a clone bodyguard that I was to pick up and take with us on the Beldame. According to my contact, they ‘didn’t make it’” 
Wrecker couldn’t help himself, wringing his large hands. “Ohh...they’re probably dead.” 
Echo shushed Wrecker. 
“Ok?” Hunter probed. 
Mad had a captive audience. 
“So...a doctor paid me extra to carry the cargo.” 
“...Ok? Where is it? You came back with a cooler of...Tech, help me out.” 
Tech adjusted his goggles “You are currently in possession of a cooler filled with hormone stim syringes. Even with my intellect I fail to see any correlation to this being any type of valuable cargo.” 
“Oh...I have the cargo.” Mad calmly stated. 
“Well...where?” Echo couldn’t contain himself.  
“Inside me.” Then Mad started to weakly giggle. 
Tech perked up. Hunter could smell his brain burning...putting together the pieces. 
“Mad...out with it.” Hunter demanded. He was starting to worry again. 
Mad took another deep breath. “You know the Jedi had the best healthcare that any citizen in the galaxy could receive. Preventative care, health screenings, yearly blood tests and full body examinations. Of course, they were scanned for any disease. Sometimes biological samples are taken to test for ‘health' "reasons... 
...some of that tissue was preserved and saved. Especially reproductive material. SOMEONE somewhere realized that it might be best to not dispose of it...” 
Tech interjected. “Then Order 66 occurred, the Jedi Genocide, and the Kaminoan medical facilities were shut down...” 
Mad finished his sentence. “And I took a job to help smuggle some of the remaining Jedi reproductive material to a safe location. Away from the Empire to a place that will extract it and put it back into storage for possible future use.” 
Everyone was in shock. Except for Tech. He was EXTREMELY interested. 
“My educated guess is that you are carrying ovuum. And that is why that cooler contains hormone syringes. Without that hormone, your body would menstruate and eject the ovuum out of the body. But, in your case...with the recent stress and being of...a certain age...you have lost some of the ovuum already...” 
“Tech...a certain age? Really???” Hunter snapped back and turned around to see Omega’s reaction to the conversation. She was seriously engrossed. 
“Well" Tech pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose. "Technically she IS past childbearing age and menopausal...” 
“WOAH!” Wrecker shouted, covering Omega’s ears. 
“TOO MUCH INFORMATION!” Echo followed. 
Mad, Love, and Sil laughed at them. 
Hunter spun back around to stare “WHAT???” 
Sil answered in a string of Nomaadi slang. He laughed along with Love and Mad. 
“They are making fun of us.” Tech interpreted and side-eyed his brothers. “Specifically, Echo and Wrecker.” Then shot Sil a look. “Called us Naif’s.” 
“Ah, you know some of our language, eh?" Sil smiled proudly.  
“What’s a Naif?” Wrecker asked. 
Love signed Newbie, naive...you act so silly about body stuff. 
“The Nomaadi learn very early about biology, sex, reproduction, and how our bodies work. Male, female, intersex, fluidsexual, all of our people speak freely about it with ease and no shame.” Mad explained. “Just like eating, sleeping, thinking, feeling...it’s just part of life.” 
“Kamino didn’t really prepare us. Combat was our specialty.” Hunter defended. 
“And yet YOU’RE pretty KNOWLEDGEABLE there Hunky.” Mad winked. 
Hunter flushed deep red. 
“And Tech over there is NO Naif!” Sil and Love erupted into laughter 
Omega looked up at Wrecker pulling his hands from her ears. “I CAN hear everything they’re saying.” 
Echo interrupted “Wait...THAT’S what all of those credits are from?”  
“Yes, with more upon delivery of the ovuum. We are going to be financially set for a while.” Mad nodded to Tech. “I have coordinates to where the extraction point is. I’m supposed to be there within 7 rotations.” 
“Less than that, you’ve been unconscious for over 2 rotations.” Tech corrected Mad “We need that intel to get you safely there.” 
“Wait!” Hunter was wary “How do we KNOW this place is safe? What about any medical risks?” 
“The Empire’s gotta be looking for ALL of us.” Echo added. “The Marauder as well as The Beldame was being targeted.” 
“Hunter, Echo and I can do some digging on our comm channels. However, before we do, I should remove both of your catheter’s.” Tech pointed toward Mad. 
“Everyone out.” Mad motioned with her hand.  
“WHAAT? Thought you were ok about ‘Body Stuff’” Wrecker sassed Mad. 
Echo shook his head, ushering Omega, Sil, and Love out of the room. 
“You REALLY wanna see Tech pull a urinary catheter out of my bladder, big boy?” Mad sassed back. 
Wrecker visibly shuddered. She got him. “Oof...no.” He left the room. 
Hunter grabbed Mad’s hand and squeezed.  
Would he and his siblings have been happier on Ord Mantell still running jobs for Cid?  
No. THIS is where WE need to be right now! 
It was an uncertain journey so far, but Hunter was willing to see it through. 
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PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!
To read Chapter 14 "In Confidence"
https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/757579231979077632/vagabonds-chapter-14-in-confidence?source=share
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masksketchies · 2 months
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Another sketch request from my insta
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replaytech · 5 months
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okay just imagine hunter teaching you how to throw knives😫🤝
tbb hunter x female!reader (warnings: use of a weapon)
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You were grateful that hunter hasn’t noticed you staring at him yet.
You had been watching him for a few minutes. You couldn’t help it. The sight of him throwing his knives and hitting the targets perfectly was… well, to be blunt, hot.
He throws another knife and hits the dot that he had drawn earlier, “You see something you like?”
His back is still turned, but you know that he’s talking to you, “I hate it when your super tingle snitches on me.”
He lets out a half laugh, half scoff and looks at you, “My super tingle?”
You give him a serious nod, “Yes.”
He turns away from you to grab his blades from the trees, “Are you just gonna stand there or let me teach you how to throw?”
You snort, “Thanks, but I’m more of a blaster girl.”
Hunter flips the knife in his hand, “What? Afraid you’ll be bad at it in front of me?”
You roll your eyes, “Oh please, I could do this easily.”
He continues walking towards you with a small smirk plastered on his face, “And you say i’m the one with an ego problem.”
You hold your hand out, “Let me see one”, you gesture to the blades.
He starts to give you one but retracts his hand, “Not so fast.”
You put your hands on your hips, “Oh here we go.”
“Your patience and positive attitude isn’t like any i’ve ever seen.”
You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, “Shut up, hunter.”
He chuckles and goes to stand behind you, “Here, show me how you hold it before you throw”, he gives you a knife.
As you hold the weapon, you’re hyper aware of hunters presence behind you. He’s so close that you can practically feel his armor on your back.
His hands go in front of you to adjust your form. All you can do is watch what he’s doing.
Hunter speaks low next to your ear, “There you go, hold it just like that.”
He moves his left arm to your shoulder and keeps his right on your throwing arm, mimicking the throwing motions, “Make sure not to release too early or too late. Too early will make the throw too high and too late will make it hit the ground”, he says with his armor fully touching your back.
You swallow and nod, embarrassingly affected by how close he is, “Got it.”
You feel hunters lips come close to your ear, “What, princess? Am I making you nervous?”
You scoff and try to sound as confident as you can, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Unfortunately, he steps away from you, “Try it by yourself.”
You try to remember everything he told you as you hurl the knife at the tree, missing the target by about a foot.
“Not bad, for an amateur anyway.”
You scoff, “Hunter isn’t impressed with me, whatever will I do?”, you deadpan.
He walks towards you and looks down at you, “Don’t tell me you missed on purpose so I would help you again.”
You nod, “Yep. My heart longs for your sweaty glove hand to rub all over my forearm again.”
“They aren’t that sweaty.”
“It feels like you dipped both of my arms in the river.”
He laughs softly and looks you in the eye, “Well maybe I want to help you again.”
You roll your eyes playfully, “I guess.”
“Woah now, don’t sound too excited.”
You laugh as he moves behind you to help again, “Last time you relied too much on your wrist. Use your arm instead, like this”, he moves your arm with his.
He lets go of you so you can try again on your own. This time, you actually hit the target.
“Atta girl.”
You bite your lip to hide your smile, “Are you intimidated? I might best you in our next mission.”
Hunter laughs, “I’ll have to keep having these sessions with you if you want those results.”
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queenofspades6 · 6 months
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I need more seasons of The Bad Batch! I can’t believe this amazing series is almost over… what am I supposed to do after? Just live my life like nothing had happened? These characters are part of me, and I don’t want their story to end.
What do you think?
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oceansssblue · 4 months
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Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.
Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.
Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.
Hope you like it!
Xx,
Sky.
"SEE YOU TOMORROW"
CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖
WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.
Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.
It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.
Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.
You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.
A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.
On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.
You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.
You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.
He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.
You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.
You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.
"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"
There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.
"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.
They all look a little tipsy too.
You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.
"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.
"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.
After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.
"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"
Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.
"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".
His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.
"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".
This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...
"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.
You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.
"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.
Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.
You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.
The thought makes you giggle a bit.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.
He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.
It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.
You sigh with a smile.
"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"
Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.
Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.
"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.
Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.
"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.
Hunter hummed.
"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.
None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.
"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".
Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.
Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.
"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.
Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.
Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.
"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.
Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.
"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".
Crosshair smirked.
"I'll risk it".
He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.
THE END.
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Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)
Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!
Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)
Stay tunned!
Xx,
Sky.
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imabeautifulbutterfly · 6 months
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A glorious idea has spawned in my brain
Hunter x Criminal!reader where they have a Batman/Catwoman relationship, however this time Omega meets the reader and absolutely adores her so the reader decides to stick around a bit (despite Hunter's protests). During this time, the reader and Omega form a mother/daughter and Hunter secretly loves it and falls for the reader everytime he sees her with Omega
Hello my lovely anon,
Thank you for such a fantastic request. I hope I did your request justice. The setting is Season 1 of Bad Batch, so hopefully you don't mind too much. I wrote with f!Criminal!reader, hope that's okay. Reader has a nickname.
Enjoy.
Also, since this isn't part of the Fic Roulette request, it'll be filed under the One Shots Master List. It's a little longer almost at 2400 words.
Love oo,
Not Ready
Warnings: Slight thieving, Omega in danger, dangling from a tower, banter, angst, fluff, shooting, dangerous driving, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.
Part Two
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“Give it back, and we can just both walk away.”
You twirled the rather large knife in your hand, “Hmmm, no.”
Hunter clenched his fists, “I said, hand it over.”
“And I said no.” You smirked underneath your mask, the only thing visible on your face were your eyes. Eyes so full of cockiness, determination and experience. “I gotta ask though, why so long?” You chuckled, “Compensating for something?” You flipped it back and forth in your hand, twirling it around your palm and the back of your hand. “Has good weight.” You smirked as you arched your brow, “If you know what I mean.”
“I don’t have time for your nonsense!” Hunter looked behind, sensing the Imperial troopers closing in, he let out a sigh, and before you even realized what was happening he tried to stun you. 
Unfortunately, he missed thanks to your ability to sense when danger was imminent. Without even thinking your body back-handspringed away from the blue stun blast. “That was rude.”
“Listen, I need to get to my sister, and I don’t have time to mess around!” Hunter could hear Tech on his comms as he described Omega hanging from the tower. 
“Your sister’s in trouble?” All teasing and flirting died on your lips as soon as you heard that.
“Yes!”
You nodded and tossed the knife back to the chiseled red-bandana wearing man in front of you, “Let me help.”
“No. You’ve helped enough.” His tone full of annoyance and frustration. He grabbed the knife and took off running towards Omega, ignoring the pang of regret from his tone. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was running to help Omega. Yet, the frustration from having to waste even a minute on you was more than enough to make him worry about Omega’s safety and that’s all that mattered. 
His feet came to a sudden halt when you appeared in front of him with a speeder bike, “Hop on!”
“What?”
“Just … I feel bad, ok! Now shut up, and get on!”
He didn’t delay, jumping on the back of the speeder holding on to your waist tightly as you weaved through traffic.
“Where is she?” You shouted over the noise of the air rushing past your ears. 
Hunter didn’t respond and simply pointed to the person dangling from the tower, as another helmeted person neared her position. 
You sped up the speeder, you’d know Fennec’s helmet anywhere. You weaved and dodged against the oncoming traffic, almost as though you could see where and when the next vehicle was going to be turning or shifting. Your heart nearly dropped as you saw the tiny person slip, driving faster and more dangerous to catch her in time. 
Hunter reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Omega’s in midair, tossing her onto his lap, pinning her between the two of you. “You okay, back there?” You shouted to make sure everyone was safe as you saw Fennec jump down and commandeer a vehicle of her own chasing after the three of you. 
“We’re fine. Get us out of here!” He shouted as he quickly checked over Omega to make sure she was uninjured and safe. He couldn’t see much from how she was clutching to his chest plate, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain either. 
“You got this?”
“What?” 
“I’m asking if you know how to drive a speeder?”
“Yeah! Why?” He didn’t clue in to what you were preparing to do until you flipped over him and landed on Fennec’s vehicle.
“Hey gorgeous!” You smirked as you looked at her.
“Ugh! Should’ve known you’d be here.” Fennec answered, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her eyes on her target.
“Wasn’t supposed but I sort of owed him one. Back off.” You stood aiming your blaster into the hood.
“No can do, little Butterfly.”
Force you hated that nickname, somehow it had stuck among the bounty hunters and assassins, simply because you were quick and light on your feet. Dazzling them with your antics and before they even realized you slipped out of their sight, blending into the crowds more often than not. 
“Fennec, I like you, but you need to back off!”
“What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing.”
“I’ll split the reward with you, if you help me capture the little girl.”
You tried to stay balanced as Fennec tilted the vehicle side to side, “You disappoint me, going after a child.”
“Jobs a job, honey.”
You shook your head, “I warned you,” you shot your blaster into her engine, jumping off onto a nearby transport, watching as her engine began to sputter. She jumped to safety standing on the closest terrace she could find, as she watched you and her target move further away. You jumped down, finding your way back to the ground, hoping from one transport to the next. 
Once you touched solid ground, you looked back up to see Fennec turn and walk away. ‘Until next time, gorgeous.’ You mumbled as you headed back to the marketplace, before you even got five feet away, you felt your body jerk forward as tiny hands wrapped around your waist. You looked down to see the blonde girl, the rather striking man had rescued, his sister. 
“Uh… thanks, kid. I think…” you giggled as you pulled her arms away from you. 
“You saved me!” She beamed with a brilliant smile as she looked at you.
“I think your brother did that. I just drove.” You subtly shook your head, subtly moving away from the overwhelming bundle of joy.
“She has a point,” Hunter offered, “if you didn’t show up with a speeder when you did …” you could tell on his face he didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.
“Listen, Fennec would’ve come up with something. She’s a bounty hunter, but she’s a fairly decent one. Anyway I’m glad you’re safe,” you patted the little girl’s head, “take care of yourself and your brother. Seems like he gets into trouble easily.” You turned to walk away when she gripped your fingers.
“Come with us.” She pleaded looking at you with big eyes that were asking for more than you were prepared to give, or have given to anyone since you could actually remember. It was nice to feel needed, but it was too much. 
Hunter wanted to grab Omega and pull her away from this woman who showed up, and was constantly surprising and making him feel uneasy at every turn. “Omega, we don’t know her circumstances. She’s probably already committed to something else, right?” Hunter narrowed his eyes on the helmeted woman in front of him, not wanting her to take the invitation Omega offered.
You’ve seen that look a thousand times before. It said everything that really mattered, you weren’t welcome, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. 
“Don’t worry,” you started keeping your eyes locked on the man standing behind Omega, “your brother is right, I’m … currently … occupied with other matters.” You smiled as you turned your attention to Omega, and kneeled before her, “Omega, right?”
She nodded, not letting your fingers go. 
You smiled and pulled out a collapsable vibroblade, “This is Vala,” you flicked your wrist and opened the vibroblade, “my father gave me this when I was about your age, he told me ‘this galaxy is full of good and bad people. Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, and sometimes there are too many bad, you won’t be able to find a good one. Vala, will always be there to protect you.’” You turned her hand palm-up and placed the vibroblade in her tiny hand. “It will protect you. Ask your brother to train you on how to use it. Never rely on someone else to save you, in this galaxy, sometimes the only person you can count on is yourself. Take care, Omega.” You ruffled her hair one more time, before standing up and walking away without looking back. 
It felt strangely comforting to be wanted, even if it was for a brief second. 
“Wait!” Hunter shouted, causing you to turn around, “We left your speeder that way” he pointed over his shoulder, you couldn’t help laughing.
“Don’t worry about it, handsome, it’s not mine.” You smiled and walked away.
Omega turned to Hunter, a saddened smile on her face, “Why couldn’t she come with us?”
“Omega,” Hunter kneeled, “we don’t know who she is. Whether she can even be trusted? It’s best if she goes her way and we meet up with Wrecker, Echo and Tech.”
“But…”
“Omega, I know you have a good heart, but you’re too trusting. It’s best if we keep a low profile and avoid entangling ourselves with people we don’t know. Come on, we gotta meet back up with the others.”
He guided her back to the hangar trying to avoid the Pantoran police force and the troopers that seemed to be searching for someone. 
Omega kept watching as one Pantoran guard held up a picture to a passerby, it was a picture of you. She pulled on Hunter’s sleeve and pointed to the Pantoran’s datapad. 
“They’re looking for her.”
“We should go…” Hunter tightened his grip on her hand, but she refused to move.
“We have to help her.”
“We don’t know why they’re looking for her. She could be a wanted criminal or a murderer, a thief.”
“Hunter, please. She saved me, it’s the least we can do.”
He looked at the picture and commed Wrecker, “Wrecker, where are you?”
“Just entering the marketplace right now, why?” 
“I need you to take Omega back to the ship, I …” he turned his head to look at Omega, “I have to repay someone who helped us get Omega back.”
Wrecker walked through the crowd faster than the others as people naturally moved out of his way, he stood in front of the both of them, tilting his head. “Who, you helping?”
“Don’t worry about it, just get Omega back to the ship and tell Tech we need to take off the minute I get back. Make sure Echo makes it back to the ship too. We may have to get out of here faster than expected.”
“Copy that” Wrecker picked up Omega and had her sitting on his shoulder as he headed back to the hangar with her. 
Hunter could hear the comm chatter between Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He let out a huff and shook his head, this was just asking for trouble. He ran back, heading the way you were walking. It wasn’t long before he found you sitting at a cafe sipping on something warm. 
“Came back to tell me you love me?” You teased him.
“Came back to tell you, you’re in danger.”
“Shocker.” You didn’t react or flinch, as you kept your eyes locked on the man’s eyes. 
“I need to know, are you a murderer?”
“No.”
“Do you have a bounty on your head with some crime boss or something?”
“No.”
“Then get up” he grabbed your arm and forced you to stand, grabbing your helmet as he pulled you along, running behind him. 
“Wait… hey!” You stopped in your tracks and pulled your arm out of his hold, “Who the hell do you think you are, pulling me like that? You know I have the right …” he put a hand over your mouth and pushed you into a darkened alley, hiding you with his body as a Pantoran patrol passed the two of you.
“They’re searching for you, and not just the police. The Imperial troopers are looking for you too.” He stepped away and handed you your helmet, “Listen, I don’t care what happens to you, but Omega was worried, and I’m not going to disappoint her. You’re warned. So you can either go back out there and try and avoid whatever trouble you got yourself into or…” he let out a sigh regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth, “You can come with us and we can drop you off somewhere.”
“Us?”
“My brothers, Omega and myself.”
“Why are you helping?”
“Like I said, I don’t want to disappoint Omega. So what’s it going to be?”
You looked at him and then at the increased patrols you hadn’t realized were slowly filling up the streets, they all seemed to be looking for you. You closed your eyes and tapped your helmeted head against the wall, “Alright. I’ll trust you. Lead the way.”
He stepped closer to you, “I’m taking a chance on you, you put any of us in danger, and you and I are going to go another round, understood?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine. What do I call you anyway? Because I don’t think ‘stuck up jackass’ would work.”
“It’s Hunter, and what do I call you? Because I don’t think ‘crazy tooka’ works.”
You smirked as you looked at him, “You can just call me Butterfly. Hunter.”
“Fine. Now let’s go. Butterfly.”
“You know I’m not as bad as you think.”
“And hell is just a sauna, shut up and follow me.”
As much as you tried to fight the urge to smile, you couldn’t help but enjoy the banter you two had. You also couldn’t help but examine his physique as you followed behind him, moving around the crowd, ducking and avoiding capture until you made it to his ship. 
Omega ran to you and hugged you again, “I knew he’d find you, come on. Let me show you inside.” 
She gripped your hand and dragged you along. You weren’t looking for family, but … as you moved closer to the ship, there was a strange sense of belonging that came from meeting the rest of her brothers. For the first time in a long time, you felt at home. 
Hunter watched you and the way Omega gripped your hand, as you introduced yourself to Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He had to admit, you were attractive, when he saw you without your helmet, he almost felt his tongue getting all tied up. Not to mention, the outfit you wore also drew attention to your physique which didn’t help. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling this could either be a really horrible idea, or it would be a very pleasant surprise. 
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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
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“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.
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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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thespiritualfives · 9 months
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🐺IM FERAL ABOUT THIS MOMENT WITH HUNTER AND ELARA @cloned-eyes 🐺
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sinfulsalutations · 1 year
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𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪 ⋆*・゚
Sometimes when he's right next to you.
"You have a piece of food stuck in your two front teeth."
"Why didn't you just tell me that... out loud? You're literally right next to me."
"I was already on my datapad. Craning my neck up and talking would require more energy. Wanted to save the time."
"...Sure, Tech. Thanks for telling me."
"Of course, dear."
Sometimes it's when he's away from you; his thoughts can't help but come to what he's missing.
"I saw a blooming Eucharis grandiflora while on a mission. Made me think of you. I have it tucked into a pocket in hopes of giving it to you when I return. It'll look even nicer in your hair, I believe. A picture is attached to the end of this message. Miss you endlessly, dear."
Other times it's funny little observations he would've kept to himself before.
"Crosshair seems more grouchy than usual today. I wonder what has got him hissing like a lothcat."
He'll message you in mass about whatever has raked his brain.
"Must finished a new coding project. I've really enjoyed learning the 'outdated' Coruscanti standard coding language, I do not know why they would change it, the commands are easy to use and they execute its orders well, and the new one is far too derivative I might say after using both..."
He's messaged many times:
"You look very nice today."
And in succession, send something along the lines of:
"Of course, you look nice everyday, but more so it feels in this moment. I hope I didn't cause any doubt or confusion, cyare. You're never not enchanting."
He'll ask you to grab things:
"Would you please go get me an R4 switch from the top shelf? I would, but I'm quite cramped under the board here. A thank you in advance."
And your favorite message you've gotten as you were falling asleep mindlessly scrolling on your data pad:
"I see you dozing off, dear. Go to my cot and rest. I'll join you soon. Goodnight, I love you."
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a/n: bouta get on a plane in a few hours, wrote this at the gate while very bored lol. hope u enjoy the nonsensical tech brainrot 🤍 ~ tags: @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower
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sokkadora · 6 months
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we can’t be friends — crosshair x fem!reader
inspired by: we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande
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summary: a clinic on pabu offers to erase the pain that came along with crosshair leaving the batch, but how will he react once he gets back and sees you with his brother?
a/n: crosshair and the reader never had an established relationship for this fic, but reader had a deep love for crosshair! also NO hunter hate on this page that is my man :P also i might make a part 2 but idk
wc: 2,078
warning(s): angst, no happy ending for this couple bb, flashbacks, memory wiping, reader has poor self/body image, kinda smutty but it's crosshair so, friends with benefits, unrequited requited love for hunter
︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .
‘You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Brighter Days Inc.” the exclusive permission to remove this person from your memory:’
Stopping your pen under the last word, you hesitate.
‘Maybe this was a bad idea,’ you think with a soft sigh, glancing at the woman in the room across from you; one seat for her, and another for her box of memories. Yours sits beside you, the weight of what you’re about to do hits you quickly, and suddenly any notion of even looking at the box makes it feel like a ticking time bomb.
The woman across from you strokes a thumb across what must be her late pets collar, and you quickly revert your gaze down to the sheet of paper again. The tip of your pen hovers over the “No” option, but drifts over to the “Yes” box, checking it off, and finally, signing your name at the bottom of your page.
The necklace dangling over your neck feels like iron against fae skin as a nurse comes out of the back room, door quietly creaking open as she calls your name. You stand quickly, handing her the paperwork and the pen with trembling hands before grabbing the box labeled “Crosshair” and walking inside.
MEMORY WIPE INITIATED
“Please, Crosshair?” You beg sweetly, dragging him across the arcade to a claw machine, finally having a bit of free time on your shore leave. 
You’d been trying to convince him to have a break together with the both of you for a while now, away from the boys and the riff raff of the military, but per usual, he was stubborn about it. He’d offhandedly said how childish it was of you to want to play games with him at an arcade instead of your usual… activities, on shore leave. But you got him to agree, seeing as he can barely ever resist how cute you look when you beg.
“Hellcat, this is ridiculous,” Crosshair crosses his arms and glares down into the machine at the plethora of stuffed animals inside. Your eyes had been on the small lothcat in the middle since the both of you had arrived, and you’ve bugged him about it enough that he considered it. “Even Wrecker knows these are rigged.”
“Where’s that overcompensating confidence?” You tease, pulling out a few tokens and placing them in his hand softly. You glance up at him with a soft and pleading look, one that you don’t yet know (and will never know) gets him weak in the knees. “Please, Crosshair? For me?” 
At the sight of your big doe eyes, he scoffs, loading the coins in and barely holding back a smile at your excited squeals and the hand shaking his shoulder gently. It takes him a minute to get a hold on the controls, but after some peeking around the corner of the machine and some naturally perfect aim, he lowers the claw and catches the lothcat.
You gasp, watching excitedly as it stays in the claws grip as it moves over to the prize dump, and as Crosshair retrieves it for you and holds it out.
“Happy now?”
You grin down at the stuffed animal and then at Crosshair before lunging forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders with an breathless laugh, “Thank you.” You grin, nuzzling into the side of his head, and pulling away before he had to chance to hug back.
Overwhelmed with the happiness of the moment, you barely notice the room going dark before the feeling of Crosshair’s surprisingly warm gaze leaves you. You look up, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden void of the arcade.
MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED.
“Cross?”
“Yes?”
“Am I ugly?” 
Crosshair’s gazes narrows, glancing at you as you lay under the covers of your bed. He lifts his arm to hold up the blanket better, glaring at you, but not angrily as tears begin to well in your eyes. He shakes his head firmly, grunting.
“When I was a kid I thought I was,” You started, having his full attention from the second you walked in the room. You scoff softly at yourself, “I can’t believe I’m crying already, sorry.”
Crosshair doesn’t reply, but instead simply reaches over and wipes your tears; a gesture he never would’ve done in the first months of the arrangement the two of you had, but things had changed. You’d changed him.
“I was so lonely as a kid,” You say softly, the words just pouring out of you. “I don’t think anybody realizes how lonely kids are, even after growing up. We just sort of stop paying attention. Like they don’t matter.”
You sniff, and Crosshair doesn’t seem to want you to stop, so you keep going; relishing in the feeling of his warm hand covering your cheek.
“So, I’m like… eight or so. And I have this really pretty girl doll, that I named after myself that I’d just get so frustrated with,” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, expecting the embarrassment of sharing the personal memory to rise, but it never comes. “It was some standard I’d hold myself to and whenever I’d find myself not liking myself, I’d look at her and it’d get me so mad. I made it to encourage myself, but it was just a constant reminder of my shortcomings as a person. It’s weird. Like… if I can make myself that pretty, maybe people would finally like me,” You finally glance up to meet Crosshair’s gaze, finding that it’d softened into something unreadable to you. 
He leans over and plants a firm kiss on your mouth, his hand sliding down to grasp the sides of your neck before he pulls back. His hands start wandering down with his mouth that keeps peppering you with kisses, softly murmuring the word ‘pretty’ between each kiss. You writhe under his touch, a hand rising to cover your mouth as a warmth shoots down to your lower stomach. You relish in how safe you feel under him before he… he…
MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED
“Why won’t you come home?”
Your voice echos through his head as he stares out into the vast horizon where Tipoca City used to stand; where the home he grew up in with his brothers and met you in used to stand. He scoffs, glancing back at you from over his shoulder.
“That is not my home anymore,” He says in a low tone; a warning to anyone else, but you knew you had a bit more leeway with him. Fists clenching at your sides, your gaze narrowed into a glare. “Now leave. Hunter’s staring after you like a kicked dog,”
You don’t bother to glance back at the man you already knew was waiting for you, but at the mention of his name he seemed to back further into the ship to give you some privacy, trusting that Crosshair wouldn’t hurt you, of all people.
“This isn’t about him, Crosshair,” You snapped, “Come home. Please. I need you, and so do your-”
“I don’t need you,” Crosshair says sternly, pivoting on a foot to turn to face you with a cold glare. You reeled slightly at the look; you’d seen it before, but never aimed at you. “I never had and I never will. And if you were as smart as you made yourself seem, you’d join me on the right side of the battle. Just like how I thought you and Hunter didn’t have anything going on,” You open your mouth to correct him; he knew there was nothing happening between Hunter and you. He was your best friend, but Crosshair beat you to the punch, “But I guess looks can be deceiving, huh?”
It felt like a clear blow to a vulnerable moment you’d shared with him— only him — and it nearly sent you to tears. You reached up, taking the necklace and snapping it off your neck with a harsh glare in the sniper’s direction; another look that had never been sent directly at him from you, but one that he found made his heart break.
“Fuck you, Crosshair.”
MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED.
The sense of overwhelming dread that filled your chest and sank down into your belly had you jolting awake, eyes darting around the mundane white room as the panic of what’s happening begins to set in.
The heart monitor picks up its speed, and the two nurses rush to your side as your hand shoots up to grab and fidget with your necklace. You’d fixed it from when… when… 
Why did it need to be fixed? Who broke it?
Who gave it to me? What was his name? Cross…
The nurse grabs your shoulder as your throat tightens with your hands grip on the jewelry, “Can I keep this one? Please?” You sob, managing to smile through tears at the nurse to your right, “Please let me keep this one.” 
‘Crosshair!’ You think, another sob scratching it’s way out of your throat. ‘What am I doing?’
The nurse glances to her coworker and nods gently. She comes to rest her hand over yours, and you let the necklace fall against your chest, but you rest a hand over it protectively. If you couldn’t save your memories of him, maybe this could be the one thing that you do save.
MEMORY WIPE RESUMED.
You can feel yourself being jolted around before finally landing in another memory, your head resting on a warm, firm shoulder and your hand gripped in a strong one in your lap. The person you’re resting your head on… they sit up, and hand you a box which reveals a necklace that relates to your namesake. 
You grin, but the figure in front you shifts which causes you to look up.
Hunter.
He’s smiling at you softly, they way he almost always had; save for the first time he met you. You grin back to him, leaning forward on the couch from your kneeling postition to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He returns your embrace without hesitation, and you allow yourself to feel how perfectly the both of your bodies meld together. The warmth of his body under the civvy clothes you held for him in your personal dormitories on Kamino sank under your own, causing you to pull away. 
You barely notice how the room around you starts to shift, any objects affiliated with C4!@#??? begin to disappear, whatever holds your mind in it’s grasp seems determined to keep your attention on the sergeant sitting before you on the couch when you pull back from the hug.
‘Hunter gave it to me…’ You look up at him and smile lovingly, ‘of course he did,’ before leaning over and slotting your mouth over his.
MEMORY WIPE OF ??? COMPLETE.
The nurses gently help you up out of the chair, removing the device from your temples as the doctor comes to greet you. Another nurse holding a box hauls it out of the room as you shake the doctors hand and thank him profusely, grinning at the light and happy feeling on your chest as you turn to embrace the nurses in thanks. The woman at the front desk hands you an envelope of slips to give to your family and friends, and you thank her on the way out.
After leaving the office, you enter the outside of Pabu to find Omega waiting for you. Grinning you sneak up behind her, lifting her up and spinning her around. She shouts your name, but you can hear the smile in her voice as you set her down.
“How are you feeling?” She checks you over, and you smile dotingly down at her. 
“I’m alright,” You ruffle through your bag, the feeling of the necklace against your chest making you feel giddy. ‘Why did I feel so bad about it before?’ You think, but quickly shake it off and pull out the envelope. “The secretary said to give this to family and friends, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see.”
Omega curiously takes the large orange envelope from your hands, opening it and reaching in to find a ticket that said that you had:
‘Y/N L/N has erased Crosshair (CT-9904) from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.’
Omega glances up to where you’re walking off with an arm looped through Hunter’s and feels a sense of dread fall to the pit of her stomach.
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skellymom · 6 months
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"Vagabonds" Chapter 12 "Love's Arrival"
Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC
Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.
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(Pinterest credit: Maulia)
ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
To read Chapter 11:
https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744912201871245312/vagabonds-chapter-11?source=share
Word Count: 1.3K
Background: Flashback sequence: Love is born. Who was her father? Hunter having relationship regrets, dark and broody angst. He's got a very small part at the end of this chapter. But I PROMISE to have much more Hunter content in Chapter 13! To help with any confusion: Mad's Clone trans sister (non bio) is named "SHE" (mentioned in Chapter #9 "In The Beginning") and her name is capitalized to prevent any confusion of what character is being spoken of.
Warning: Swearing, fear, physical pain, fainting, blood, breast milk, natural childbirth,Star Wars Canon violence, discussion of Love's genderfluidity.
(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )
Recap:
Several Night Sisters understood and respected Mad’s choice. And, disagreed with Mother Talzin’s methods.  They helped plot secretly to assist with the intervention...some planning to leave with the Nomaadi as well. 
...because Mad knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Mother Talzin was only playing at being accommodating.  Mad could see the omen of celestial bodies in the sky above her.  A baby born under these conditions signaled to Mother Talzin this child would have some sort of significance.  She would keep the baby and NEVER let Mad’s child leave this planet.   
And she would NEVER let Mad leave alive, either. 
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"Love's Arrival"
Mad sweating, bore down and pushed. 
The baby slid out covered in a caul...silent and unmoving. 
A Nightsister handed the baby to Mother Talzin.  
“My child...are THEY alive?” 
Mother Talzin ignored Mad’s pleas, removing the caul from the baby’s head, dropping it to the ground matter-of-factly. She passively scrutinized the new life in her hands. 
“Answer me PLEASE! Are they ALIVE???” Mad was frantic, struggling to hold her composure. 
One sister tied the umbilical cord, then Mother Talzin cut it with a sharpened Kyber crystal kife...glowing red. 
“Your female child is alive and breathing.” Mother didn’t even bother to look at Mad. “But uncharacteristically quiet for a newborn. She hasn’t even opened her eyes yet.” Mother Talzin traced the vaguely heart shaped red pigmentation around the baby’s eye. 
“THEY!” Mad spit out. “The baby is FLUID!!!” 
“Oh...and WHO told you THAT?” Mother condescended. 
Mad had enough of this woman’s shit. “MY child...in the WOMB! We have a BOND.”  
She struggled to sit up, grabbing hold of Mother Talzin’s skirts and yanked HARD. 
“GIVE ME MY CHILD!!!” Mad growled gutturally through her teeth. 
Mother Talzin’s head snapped around angrily “I am standing in as proxy for MY SON. The child will stay with me until my son is ready for HIS PADAWAN.” 
“Maul can kiss my ass! He doesn’t care about HIS child!!!” Mad shot back. 
“We shall see when THEY fully manifest their Force powers.” 
“At least you FINALLY got the pronouns right this time...BITCH!” 
Mother Talzin yanked her skirts out of Mad’s grasp disgustedly. The Nightsisters around her eyed each other nervously. Then one gasped loudly and pointed towards the baby. Mother turned her attention back to the newborn. 
The baby’s bright amber eyes bore a hole through Mother Talzin. She could feel it probing her consciousness. Attempting to communicate. No words, of course but...images, feelings, something deeper... 
The Vardo and Beldame streaked past the group at low altitude. The ships engaged their sound alarm systems, imitating angry beasts screaming above the people below. Their attempt to intimidate and catch the Nightsisters off guard. Many of them scattered for cover. Several stayed put with Mad. 
Mother Talzin stood tall still staring with interest at the baby. The baby stared unflinchingly back at Mother Talzin. The horrifying sound from the approaching ships did not affect either of them. 
The ships returned for another pass, flying even lower. Then again, and again...purposely toying with their newfound enemies. 
When they had enough of the Nightsisters dispersed for cover, the Vardo quickly landed and dropped a group of Nomaadi mercenaries. Men and women clad in mismatched armor, their helmets in the shapes of angry snarling predatory biomechanical animals, fitted for night and thermal vision. Large blaster weapons trained upon Mother Talzin and in cover formation to ward off rear attack. 
The Beldame continued to pass over the sky above them, shrieking like an angry beast. Then circling like a hungry shark. The ship’s weapons ready to blast ANYONE who dared come out from cover to intervene. 
Mother Talzin and baby kept each other’s gaze. 
The Nightsisters who planned to defect from Dathomir helped Mad up from the ground. 
“Give me my child. I won’t ask again!” 
Mother Talzin calmly reached into the pocket of her skirts. The Nomaadi braced themselves. Several engaged their weapons from stun to kill. 
She pulled out something hidden in her hand, shook it, then tossed the contents at her feet. The Nomaadi Merc in front of her flinched, expecting an explosion or witch magic... 
...several small, polished animal bones hit the ground, rolled, and laid to rest just short of his boots. 
Mother Talzin regarded them silently. “You may have your child. But there is a cost...” 
“It would have cost to let you KEEP my child! Don’t act like you’re doing do ME a favor.” The GALL of this woman. 
“YOU will never know peace. If I or my son do not acquire your child, another entity shall.” 
“WHO???” 
“I cannot name it. SOMETHING that will gain power over everything in this galaxy. Something dark looming over the horizon of our days. It’s coming...and NO ONE can stop it.” With that she kissed the baby on the forehead and let them go. 
Mad winced, as she expected her child to drop to the ground once they left Mother Talzin’s hands. 
As the Night Witch stepped away, the baby hung in midair...levitating in place. Their eyes changing from bright amber to deep yellow green. Closer to the color of their mother’s. 
Mad, with assistance from three Nightsisters, limped to her child and took the baby in her arms. 
The Mercs kept position with their front man training his blaster on Mother Talzin as she wandered away into the Dathomirian night. 
The Beldame swooped down, hovering 3 feet above the ground, gangplank opened to receive its crew. Mad and the Nightsisters quickly boarded. 
The Merc crew of the Vardo, seeing the extraction successfull let their guard down. They didn’t come planning to kill ANYONE, unless extremely necessary. The fear Nomaadi had of the Dathomir Witches proved correct, unfortunately. The fear of their REVENGE.  
No sooner had the Witches gotten Mad and her baby aboard then a fire fight broke out between the Nightsisters and Nomaadi Mercenaries. Green plasma fire, red blaster bolts, screams filled the air. SOMETHING huge hit the Vardo, and the ship exploded. Its concussive force rocked the Beldame violently... 
...and one of the Witches staggered backward, falling out of the open hatch. Another tried to grab ahold of her and caught open air. Mad’s sister SHE caught the Nightsister before she too fell to her death.  
The Beldame’s pilot: Uncle Taavy, struggled to close the gangplank quickly to not lose the rest of the crew. Then engaged the engines to leave the planet. 
But the ship shook refusing to budge. He threw the ‘Dame into full throttle. Still it refused to engage. Uncle Taavy swore a string of curses in his Nomaadi tongue.  
“What the Kark is happening!” SHE yelled. 
The Nightsister in SHE’s arms replied “Mother Talzin and the Witches won’t let us leave.” 
Both Witches looked terrified. Terrified of what Mother Talzin would do if they couldn’t escape. 
Mad had enough of Maul and his Mother. She handed her baby to the second Nightsister now seated, and purposely strode to the back gunnery. Adrenaline and anger fueled her determination.  
She climbed the gunnery and slid into the seat. Through the windscreen Mad witnessed Mother Talzin and the remaining Nightsisters holding back the Dread Beldame with their magic. Green plasma enveloped the ship. Mad ground her teeth in anger, engaged the blaster cannons and started firing away on them. 
Mother Talzin blocked the blaster fire. It dissipated hitting nothing. 
Mad screamed in anger, beating the walls of the ship with her fists. The space between her legs oozed blood, her breasts leaked milk...and her baby started to wail...for the first time. 
The cry was strong and piercing...and angry. Everyone on the ship heard it. 
And so did Mother Talzin. She seemed shocked to have done so and immediately stood down. Calling off the fellow Witches. 
The ‘Dame shot forward quickly, as if let go by an invisible hand. Uncle Taavy whooped in glee, to be rid of this forsaken planet. He slammed the ship into high gear and hauled ass. 
Mad and Mother Talzin locked eyes as the ‘Dame raced away. She swore she’d fight that bitch until the day one of them died. Nobody was taking her child away from her. 
The adrenaline was wearing off and the burden of giving birth caught up to Mad. She slumped in the seat, feeling wetness between her legs and chest. 
Sister SHE prevented Mad from falling onto the floor... 
...Mad descended into darkness again... 
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Hunter laid on his bunk sifting through the events that transpired since he met Mad. 
The throbbing pain between his legs, burning scratch on his face...the deep bite mark that FINALLY stopped bleeding. 
His heart ached a bit too. Pain, love, lust, yearning, uncertainty...so much...felt like it would explode. 
Cid’s words bounced around his head...paining him that she was possibly RIGHT. It was the ONLY accurate intel Cid had ever given him. 
“Ya looking for a world of hurt, Bandana?  “Cause that’s all you’re gonna get with that one.” 
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To read Chapter 13 "Precious Cargo"
https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753775679134466048/vagabonds-chapter-13-precious-cargo?source=share
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For @staycalmandhugaclone the final drawing
From their story Docs Adventures, Found Footage Chapter (go check it out, it's a bad batch x reader)
the Doc and her boys cuddle for the night after a stressful evening out
I was really nervous about this one because it's a larger more detailed piece than I've done before or really in a while. But I'm happy with it 😀
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This is not cl0necest, just emotional support for someone special.
* The bed is based on star wars hotel rooms.
*I had to screen shot the paragraph I pulled this from to get everything perfectly. Hopefully I got it all 🙃 so many limbs 😩
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queenofspades6 · 5 months
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Imagine Omega and the others escaped Tantiss’base, while the boys are trying to go save her 😭😭😭
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oceansssblue · 4 months
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Hello! I hope you’re doing well! Can I request a fic where Omega gets injured and separated from the Batch for a few days, and the reader (female) takes care of her until they can find her brothers? One night stormtroopers/imperials come in to try and take her, but reader is a BAMF (maybe an ex-battlefield medic? She has access to blasters, knives, smoke grenades, etc. to make another part of this more believable) and is able to fight them off pretty easily. The problem is actually when the Batch shows up, and reader thinks they’re the enemy and the Batch thinks she’s holding Omega hostage or something. And thus, reader vs. the bad batch begins! No one kills each other because Omega comes down and clears everything up upon her hearing her brothers. It just took her a while to come over because, you know, injury.
Also I think it’d be fun if the reader did manage to pin Hunter, even if it’s only for a second and then she would likely get pinned back because . . . It’s the bad batch.
Sure thing love, I'm down!
Xx,
Sky.
"NOT YOUR ENEMY"
HUNTER/F READER 📩💖(💔)
WARNINGS: blood&wound, stitches, light mention of atempted assault to omega (nothing happens further than words), reader being a badass and killing some storm-troopers, fire/explosions, reader being shot, some teasing/sexual tension with Hunter... A hint of competency kink? It's mostly action/fluff!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You were just on your way back home after collecting your credits when your eyes capture the shine of a blade with the reflection of the moonlight. You've been trained to focus on such things; possible weapons, always being aware of your surroudings. If you're distracted, your dead. You weren't always; but it comes as natural as breathing to you, now.
You're not in the mood for a fight, though; so once you realise you're not the one in danger, you decide to pass this one out. If you go looking for a fight, it will find you. You're still tired of your last hunt; you're not feeling the thrill of a new chase just yet. That's until you hear a voice; way too innocent and young to be stuck in such a situation without proper defence.
Your steps backtrack silently and your eyes quickly scan the alley. It's a human girl; blonde, petite, and no older than fourteen. There are three males closing up on her; two humans, one twi'lek. You see the girl trying to get pass them, a nervous anxious smile on her face. You make your resolve right then and there.
You've got to be careful. You can't save everyone.
You move so quietly towards them they don't even realise you're right at their back until you voice up your request with your blaster pointing straight at them.
"Let's keep going on with our peacefull night walk, boys".
It's serious, firm, feigning boredom. Inside, you're as coiled as a snake, ready to strike.
Ready. Always ready. Don't trust anyone. An innocent looking enemy might be your death if you don't take him seriously, if you don't think he's a danger. If you grow complacent.
They glance at each other, evaluating their chances against you. Then down at the girl; their price if they won, or the reason of their downfall if they decide to engage you and lose. One of the humans shrugs lazily, making a head gesture towards the other two. They slowly follow him out of the alley.
"All yours" the last one snorts when he passes by you.
If someone backs down, let them go.
You swallow your furious retort and take hold of the girls wrist, tugging her in the other opening of the alley, opposite direction to them. You don't trust them not to follow you, try to catch you by surprise, so you don't stop until you're at the other side of town, walking towards the outskirts in the direction of your small house. You're still vigilant all the way.
"You alright, blondie?" You ask, glancing at her and scanning her body cautiously. "You got yourself a wound there, shirt's soaking up blood".
The girl looks down at herself and nods guiltily.
"Yeah, I, uh... Had some complications" she ends up saying, quietly, before her face quickly lits up. "Thanks for helping me, though! I appreciate it".
You nod and that's that.
"Do you have somewhere to go?"
She nibbles with her lower lip anxiously.
"Uh, yeah, but... I lost my coms in a fight, so I have no way of contacting my brothers. Can I... Stay with you for a bit til I find them? I'm sure they'll catch up to me in no time".
You glance at her and sigh quietly. You don't really want to get involved, but you have too much of a conscience to leave her to fetch for herself. She's just a kid, and you're a military medic. Well, were.
"Alright. But if you annoy me I'm pushing you out".
The kid grins. She looks even younger with the excitement and relief in her face.
"You remind me of one of my brothers. Grumpy" she adds, good-heartedly.
You huff.
"Not grumpy. Direct. Concise" you correct her. "It's different".
She chuckles quietly.
"Grumpy" she tells you again.
You roll your eyes. You're used to taking care of men; you haven't have much contact with kids before.
"You're not doing a good job of not annoying me, blondie".
She smiles and makes the universal gesture of zipping her mouth shut.
"I'm Omega, by the way" she tells you after a few seconds in silence.
You nod and glance at her again. You should really check that wound when you're back at home. It's bleeding quite a bit, even if you don't think it's deep enough to worry. You're sure you have enough meds at home to take care of it. Omega doesn't seem to be in pain either.
She stares at you while you walk, leading the way to your safe place; still expecting an answer. You glare at her before focusing back on your way home. This is going to end up being either surprisingly good or exasperate you to no end.
You relent.
"Nickname's Blade".
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Turns out Omega is pretty good company; which is quite a relief considering she's more injured than what you had originally thought and his brothers are no where to be seen after three whole days of her invasion of your privacy and home. You make sure to disinfect her wound and stitch it back together; you don't have strong opioids on stock, but she holds on surprisingly well, clenching her teeth and shutting her eyes, breathing through the pain. It makes your perspective of her change; she's not just any kid if she can push herself through that without barely making a noise. She's brave.
You cover the wound in bacta and dress it carefully; and make sure to change them to new ones twice a day. At the third night you inspect the closed wound carefully, the aspect of the skin and wether the stitches are still in good place; it seems to be progressing well. You still force her to bed rest; your new sleeping place your backpack layed on the wooden floor beside her. She feels guilty about it, and it shows; you only aknowledge it with a quiet hum. You're not going to deny you'd like your bed back; but you've slept in much worse conditions before.
I know it's difficult to fall asleep. Just try to tune it out. Think on other things.
On that third night, when you turn the lights out, Omega cautiously asks you about the origin of your nickname. You tell her your story. How you got your degree in Medicine in Coruscant's University; how you mastered in Galactic Bioscience when the war hit it's peak. How you started your first working years as a doctor in a clinic while you constantly heard about the battalions of clones being shipped elsewhere; defending all of you while you stayed with your simple Coruscanti life. How that hadn't set well inside of you; how you struggled with guiltiness and empathy every single day until you took the decision to enlist in the volunteers for the GAR. You tell her that switching to military medic had been a struggle at first; but the gratification was unmessurable. You were really needed there; you really did a change saving all those brave troopers lifes. You grew to respect them and admire those men like you had never admired someone before.
Unfortunately, with being a woman in military service, and a volunteer at that, very few troopers thought it meant you weren't able to defend yourself. To fight. When one cocky, snarky trooper had insinuated that publicly in the middle of the comedor, you had done what you believed was your right and justice by shutting his mouth; snarling back a warning while using your knife to nail down the sleeve of his upper blacks to the dinning table, blade sliding just a few inches away from his skin.
Omega's eyes are wide open while she listens to the anecdote. Yeah, it had made an impact among the clone lines as well.
"Okay, you're giving me Hunter vibes with the knife things now" she giggles in the darkness of your bedroom.
You arch an eyebrow, humming under your breath uncomitedly.
"What, he a soldier too?"
Omega is quick –too quick– to correct you.
"No, no. Mercenaries".
You'd give her the sceptical side eye if you had her in front of you. You let your voice carry your suspicion instead.
"Running around with a kid like you?"
The girl stumbles to answer. It's obvious there's more to the story there, but you believe she is trying to protect her siblings, so you let it be.
"Hey, I can defend myself!" She argues with a small huff, voice turning sheepish right after the outburst, considering your actual situation. "Well, on most ocasions. Life works in unexpected ways sometimes".
You can't help the snort that comes with her words.
"You bet" you answer sarcastically. You sigh tiredly and close your eyes again. "Good night, Omega".
You hear her reacomodating softly against the sheets.
"Night, Blade".
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You've always been a light sleeper. As soon as the alarm rings, you're jumping out of your sleeping bag and rushing to get your armour on –now stripped of all Republic marks– and backpack on your shoulders; already prepared with the basics in case you came across an emergency like this. You take a quick glance at the datapad you have conected to the cams you've got set up on the surroundings of your cabin; cursing under your breath.
"Omega" you call her sharply, shaking her awake without an inch of sympathy. "Get up and ready to go. Don't make me repeat myself".
The girl blinks sleepily, but she reads the urgency in your voice. She understands this is no joke; so she quickly jumps into action too, abandoning the comfort and warmth of the bed and quickly throwing her clothes on too, electrical bow clutched in her hands. She stares at you wide eyed.
"What's going on?" She whispers, nervously.
You ruffle through your closet, jaw clenched and set on the task of preparing yourself for the worst. One blaster gets inmediately strapped at each outer thigh; your belt of knifes looping around your waist. One vibroblade goes into the safe-pocket of your right vambrace; your second one on your left leg. You stuff your bag with a few extra surprises and tie up your hair. It's time to move.
Time is precious. Time is life. Don't be slow. Do it fast, and do it good.
"Stormtroopers" you finally answer her, cinching your backpack firmly on your shoulders, expresion growing firm and serious. "Got this whole area studied in case someone found out about my past and went towards me, but I didn't think it would be this many enemies. I think there's something you haven't told me, but there's no time for that now. Listen carefully, 'cause I'm not gonna' say this twice".
Omega nods, just slightly afraid, and you push a smaller datapad into her hands.
"This is a second safe house I've got prepared not too far away from here, close to the lake" you explain to her, quickly. "Follow the map and go there. There's different routes saved up in case you find one blocked or any other difficulties. Be silent, be quick, and you shouldn't have much problem getting there. Once you're inside, open the closet in the corner of the cabin and in the first drawer you'll see another datapad. It controls some explosives I've got set around that house. If for some reason the stormtroopers get to the safehouse before I do, blow them up, and run away. I'll be able to track your location if you have that datapad on you, it's conected to mine, so I'll find you sooner or later. Got it?"
Omega nods, brow furrowed in concentration. She looks up at you anxiously.
"What will you do? You're not... Coming with me?"
You shake your head.
"I'll buy you time" you answer, firm. "Got a few surprises set out round here as well, and I'm trained. I'll clear this out and follow you to the safe house".
You open the door of the cabin and take a carefull glance out. You make a gesture towards her.
"You should go now. They're still a kilometer away".
Omega stays stuck to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her.
"Go" you snap towards her. Then, your eyes soften. "I will go after you, I promise".
Don't promise things that aren't in your hand to make it happen or not.
But promises give hope.
False hope.
Sometimes false hope is all you need to fight harder.
Omega runs into the forest, and you're quick to close the door and abandon the cabin as well, finding your hiding spot among the trees and keeping an eye at the aproaching stormtroopers through your datapad.
You knew this kid meant trouble. Well, if war is what they want... Your fingers caresses the hilts of your blades. That's what they'll get.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You logically know you're no match for these stormtroopers if you were to pull a direct open attack on them. You use your advantages, though; you're in your territory, one you know well, and they're advancing with blind trust that you'd be no real danger to them. It does wonders for your counter attack, and you silently move through the forest, killing one lonely soldier after the other with just a quick slash of your blade, throats splitting open and last words muffled against the palm of your globed hand in a wet gurgle of confusion and pannick. You gently let each body fall to the ground before you're moving towards the next one, checking their positions on your datapad through the cams you've got almost everywhere; lethal, quick, and quiet.
When they finally discover you –one soldier catching you silently opening the throat of a fellow one, and he shouts out your position in alarm–you've already killed half of them in the silence of the night.
It turns harder after that. They know you're around, they're aware, active; they know you're not an innocent normal civilian any longer. You're danger, real; they're coordinated, and they move fast as well. You hadn't used your blasters before in order to take advantage of the element of surprise; but you need them now, so you dodge and take your shot at them. Two more fall down before two of their own shots hit both your blaster –ripping it from your hand– and your right shoulder. You swallow your scream of pain and whimper quietly, clenching your jaw shut. You push through the pain and retreat back to the cabin in a hurry; it's your best chance.
It's a game of agility and speed. If you get there first, and they close around your home, you'll detonate the explosives hidden in the ground and kill them all. If they catch you before you're able to do that... It's you who'll end up dead.
Adrenaline rushes through your body and you feel like you're flying while you run. A shot scorches the armour plate on your back, and though it makes you stumble, you grin darkly. You've made it, and they're all dead.
You turn around to watch them and press the button on your datapad. All around you, the forest explodes and burns.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Once you make sure there are no survivors around you –you have to shoot a pair of them down who are still struggling to breathe through the scorching pain–, you take a bacta pad from your backpack and cover your wound with it, wrapping a bandage around it to properly secure it before you're walking away from you're no-longer home. You'll tend to it properly afterwards, later; right now you don't feel like it's safe to stay here, where you've caused such a wrath. You need to get to your safe house. You need to find Omega; and you bet these stormtroopers must have reinforcements somewhere.
Fuck, this is all a mess. This is going to put a bullseye on your back and you would probably never be safe in this planet again; you should probably make a jump more sooner than later.
You sigh tiredly and continue making your way through the forest, periodically checking your datapad. You feel relieved to know that at least Omega's signal is permanently stationed there on your second cabin.
You're still checking the cams, so there should not be a way for you to get surprised; but almost upon arriving your safe house, you catch a blur of grey, red, orange and blue moving towards you at high speed with the corner of your eyes. You barely have time to identify what it is before you're being brutally tackled to the ground with a painful grunt. You fight back viciously, cataloging the man's appearance while you swing your vibroblade and try to slash him with it; the soldier quickly grabbing your hand and forcing you to drop the weapon with brutal force, almost twisting your wrist and fingers in his effort. You hiss and roll around, keeping him under you this time. It's not like you're lacking knifes...
You manage to draw one from your belt and push it right to his neck when someone else clears his throat at your back; making you glance back.
Fuck, this one's huge.
"Need some help, sarge?" He almost mocks him, and you're momentarily surprised by the entertainment in his voice, the camaraderie between this two stormtroopers as clear as the water from Naboo lakes.
You quickly pull your second blaster out and try to shoot at him; but he's faster, and he shoots back, hitting the very center of your chest plate. The impact is so close it pushes you off from the first soldier's body; who quickly takes advantage of the momentum to efectivelly pin you under him, no way of escaping them now.
Your mind is divided between trying to cope with the pain on your chest and the pannicking fact that you're trapped, and this is probably your end. Angry, frightened tears fill your eyes.
"Where is she?" the soldier on top of you demands, voice deep and almost raspy.
You narrow your eyes at him.
"Go fuck yourself" you spit in between your panting breaths.
The big one chuckles.
The trooper on top of you rips his helmet off and stares at you; clenching his jaw. You get why he decided to do that; he looks intimidating, with half of his face tattoed in black, almost mimicking a skeleton. He lowers his face and you can't help but grow tense.
"You did a good job with those stormtroopers, but I don't have any patience left, mercenary. Where. Is she".
He presses you against the floor with his hands on your shoulder, and you whimper involuntarily when he pushes against your covered wound.
The fact that he has refered to the stormtroopers with "those" slowly registers your mind. He talks about them as if they weren't ones themselves. You quickly scan them with your eyes. They're definitely not clones, no –at least not the normal ones–, and they are soldiers. Perhaps they belong to some other organization? But what could they want Omega for?
"Not a mercenary, just a normal civ here" you push through the pain and actually grin at him, defiantly, almost whispering against his lips. "And like I said; go fuck yourself".
His right hand turns into a fist and retreats, prepared to hit you, when a pannicked voice echoes in the silence of the forest, running towards you.
"Hunter! W-wait!"
The soldier's head snap towards the girl and his eyes fill with confusion, relief, and worry.
"Step back, Omega. Stay away" he orders, with a familiarity that suddenly makes everything gain sense.
The facts falls into place. This is Hunter, the brother Omega mentioned before; the one with the vibroblade. Your eyes fly to the spot for it in his own vambrace. Oh, you're all so stupid. You've almost killed each other looking for the same thing; to protect the kid.
"She's not your enemy!" Omega insists, panting while she finally reaches you lot, the big guy holding her back with a carefully heavy hand on her shoulder, a confused expresion in his scared face. "This is Blade. She was a GAR medic. She's being helping me since I got separated from you, protected me from some bad guys and even stitched my wound up and everything. Please, Hunter. I'm okay".
The man's eyes scan her up and down; first focusing on her covered stomach, searching for the wound, before continuing with the rest of her. Once he confirms she's okay, he locks eyes with Omega; both of them staring at each other for a few seconds before Hunter sighs and turns his face back towards you. You breathe and try to calm your speeding heart.
"Where exactly did you serve?" He asks, voice firm but more gentle now.
He still holds you tightly under him. As much as he wants to believe those words, he needs to check the information out.
You answer him patiently.
"327th Star Corps, under Bly and General Secura".
Hunter repeats the information over his coms without taking his eyes from you. A flicker of surprise crosses his serious expression; perhaps noticing you didn't name the Comander by his rank, but his name.
Okay, Blades. You can consider us friends now.
Your heart clenches. You glance away.
"The information appears to be correct, Hunter" a self-assured voice picks up in between the static. "There's plenty of data of a doctor going by the nickname Blade on the old GAR registers. Including the incident that prompted such name, amongst dozens of post-mission reports and recomendations. She's being searched by the Empire as well".
The coms grow silent again, and Hunter inmediately relaxes his hold on you, trusting his –other brother, you guess?– entirely.
"Forgive me" he tells you, standing up and offering you his own hand, a guilty and almost sheepish expresion on his face now. "I thought..."
"I was a mercenary that killed all those stormtroopers just to collect a price, yeah, I know" you cut him off, slowly standing up as well and wincing at the pain.
Now that the adrenaline is dropping, you feel exhausted and nautious.
"Not that she isn't a cute kid and that, but what's so special about her?" You can't help but ask.
They all tense, and you sigh in understanding.
"Family keeps family safe, okay" you accept.
Hunter's eyes flicker down towards your scorched chest plate and your bandaged shoulder. Blood is staining the bandage now, after the pressure he put on your wound seconds ago. He frowns.
"You hurt?"
You nod quietly.
"Believe it or not, trying to get rid of a whole squad of stormtroopers on your own is not that easy" you find enough energy to joke.
A tiny smirk tugs on his lips.
"Oh, I know. I'm impressed, though".
The booming voice of his other brother almost startles you into a jump.
"Yeah, we all are!"
You smile and shrug.
Hunter glances around.
"We should get out of here. We got our ship docked close. Want us to take you somewhere?" He offers.
"Any other planet would be nice" you answer, and he nods.
"Sorry for all the trouble. And thank you" he finally says, and you sigh with a small tired smile.
"Alright".
With nothing more to say, Hunter leads the way back to their ship, Omega walking besides him and Wrecker closing the line. You can't help but analise the man's interactions with the girl. It's sweet, really, the fatherly way he looks at her. It's hot too.
Oh well. You can't help but think that either. He looks good fighting, and you always had a bit of a competency kink.
THE END.
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Fiuuuuuuu!!!! This one took me really long to write bc I'm DYING with my exams and I have 0,0000001% energy (and time) spare to write. I'm actually finishing this off rn after reading my last unit for the day, i'm exhausted send help.
Anyhow, I think this little story developed okay, so I hope you like it! In case any of you hadn't guess it yet or still had doubts, the cursive stands for thoughts and memories of female reader back in battle with the GAR and her men. It's always so fun to write badass characters!
We've got JUST ONE MORE REQUEST to write (a super fluffy hunter one with dancer!femalereader) to oficially finish the second part of my requests list (will open a third one in the future don't fret). That would be 20 requests already look at that!
Also, I just need 7 more followers to make it to a hundred, and I've been thinking on doing something special for it. Suggestions?
Stay tunned for the next one and take care!
Xx,
Sky.
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zahmaddog · 3 months
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Part 2: The Warning
Read Part 1: Making Friends in Pabu Warnings: Fluffy AF, Alcohol, Flirting, Slowest Burn of Burns, Death, Blaster Fire, Explosions, Light Romance (SFW), Comfort.
Crosshair x fem!reader | Word Count: 3704
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I decided to keep writing for fun. This one is a bit spicier than the first part as the relationship deepens between the reader and Crosshair. In good Star Wars fashion, I'm hoping this hooks you all in with some twists and action. The reader is a badass woman and I really wanted to fuel the character further with talents and quips. I hope she's a cool character to escape into. Enjoy!
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“Come find me tomorrow?” You called to Crosshair as he exited your ship. He turned and waved a little to acknowledge the comment, but didn’t respond with anything endearing. You sighed as your company walked alone under the stars, leaving you feeling a little empty. You bit your lip and closed the door to your ship. You looked at the table where you and Crosshair had enjoyed the evening together and questioned if you should leave the small mess to wake up to; as a reminder that you weren’t completely alone that night. —--
“Did you get any intel on her?” Hunter sat on the steps of the Bad Batch’s well-decorated porch. “You’re still awake?” Crosshair’s words slithered out of his still buzzed mouth. “Are you drunk?” Hunter tried not to laugh. Crosshair ungracefully sat next to his brother and pointed a finger at the sky. “Was drunk.” Crosshair grinned a little. Then he put his head into his hands as his emotions swung back and forth. “Are you okay?” Hunter reached out and touched Crosshair’s shoulder. Crosshair stayed silent for a minute, then shifted to regain some composure. “We can trust her,” he began, “Or, I trust her. She’s no clone, but has also escaped a life of conditioning.”
Hunter let go of Crosshair and folded his arms as he leaned back into the staircase. “So, she’s not going to bring any trouble?” Hunter questioned Crosshair. “I can’t say for sure. I meant to talk about details of what I read in her file, but I didn’t get around to it.” Crosshair looked down at his feet.
“You spent hours over there and you didn’t even ask? What could you possibly have talked about?” Hunter said slowly, but with a hint of frustration.
Crosshair opened and closed his mouth a few times in an attempt to begin an answer. Hunter’s look of concern returned as he knew while Crosshair was a man of few words, he was always one to have words. 
“I tried to play her guitar. She plays beautifully,” Crosshair said to the stars. He looked at Hunter, “I think I may have made a friend.”
“Huh,” Hunter smiled. “Well, if you trust her, I’ll trust her.” He stood up and shook his pants from the sand and dirt on the steps. “But, we’ll need to watch out for her too then.” 
Crosshair nodded in agreement. 
Hunter was careful with his words, but he still felt something wasn’t right. He couldn’t tell if it was his previous run-ins with bounty hunters after Omega clouding his senses, or if there was something new to be concerned about. Hunter sighed and watched his loneliest brother stargaze.
I won’t ruin this for him. Hunter thought to himself. Shaking off the feeling of worry and dread for a moment, Hunter stepped inside, and turned to see Crosshair still sitting on the steps. “Are you coming inside?” Hunter yawned while he held the door open. “In a while, maybe.” Crosshair said unbothered. —-
Crosshair woke late that morning on the porch surrounded by Wrecker’s plush toy Lula, pillows, and a draping sheet to create a tent. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, causing the tent to collapse around him. He heard the front door open. “Oh, sorry, Crosshair!” Omega exclaimed. She set a plate of fresh pancakes in Crosshair’s lap and removed the sheet from his head. “I was hoping we could have breakfast together in a pillowfort?” Omega smiled. “Of course.” Crosshair said while pulling the sheet overhead to fix Omega’s pillowfort. —-
It had been a few weeks since getting to know the family that called themselves “the Bad Batch.” You had been to their home for meals a few times and Crosshair spent nearly every evening with you. In the mornings, you’d see Wrecker, Crosshair, and Omega out fishing, with Hunter in tow sometimes. On occasion, Crosshair would jump to your boat to spend the day with you.
Omega waved as their ship skipped over the choppy water to your vessel. Wrecker cut the engine and as the ships drifted closer, Crosshair jumped into the water and swam towards your boat. You reached down into the water and pulled him aboard. 
He grinned, “Hi, beautiful.”
You smiled and threw him a towel. “We could have waited until we were closer for you to jump on.”
“I decided I couldn’t wait any longer,” Crosshair said through the towel as he dried his face. 
From the ship, Omega, Wrecker, and Hunter waved. 
“Don’t keep him out too late!” Omega yelled as their ship took off towards the island, leaving you and Crosshair alone. He turned to you and sighed a breath of relief. 
“I have a surprise for you today,” you smiled as you held up a box of clay birds. 
“Target practice?” Crosshair raised an eyebrow. “How touching. You do care about me, don’t you?” 
“I could get used to caring, yes,” you replied as you tossed the box at him. 
“I didn’t bring my rifle,” Crosshair ran his fingers over the box and opened it to reveal clay birds ready for tossing and shooting.
“No worries, I have a few things stashed,” you vocalized while digging into a storage space beneath the deck. You pulled out a few blasters from below deck, a pistol, and two rifles. 
“They’re not much,” you grinned, “But it’s hard to get anything with the Empire running things these days. Will you keep my secret?”
Crosshair picked up one of the rifles and looked down the barrel and shot a look of approval in your direction, “Oh, I’ll keep your secret.”
You put a pair of binoculars to your eyes and scanned the horizon, then asked Crosshair, “Do you think we’re far enough out that nobody will notice?” 
“I’m sure you could blame this one on me and nobody will bat an eye,” he chuckled.
“Okay then, you’re up, Mister Sniper,” you laughed as you wound up your arm with a birdie ready to toss.
“No, no.” Crosshair motioned you to come closer to him, “We’re going to judge your marksmanship skills first.” 
You took the rifle from Crosshair with a bit of a confused look written across your face. You didn’t argue with him and you lined the rifle up with your shoulder. 
“Ready?” Crosshair looked at you and you nodded back. He threw the birdie high into the sky. Pulling the trigger the second it aligned in your sights, you blasted it to pieces. 
“Deadeye.” Crosshair looked at you impressed. 
“Okay, now it’s your turn.” You tossed the rifle towards Crosshair. He lined the rifle up to his shoulder as a serious expression washed over his face.
“Remember how I said I was a sniper?” He spoke softly as he looked down through the sites. “That’s a big emphasis on was. Throw it.” He instructed.
You tossed the bird into the sky, he followed it with the barrel, pulled the trigger, and blasted the bird to pieces.
“Seems to me like there’s still a sniper in there somewhere,” you said in admiration as the pieces fell into the ocean. 
“Hmm.” Crosshair replied with a grunt. He looked at his mechanical hand and placed it back on the trigger. “Again,” he prodded. 
You tossed the second bird into the sky, Crosshair followed it, pulled the trigger, and again blasted the bird to pieces. He looked up from his sights with a soft gaze and watched the pieces fall into the water. 
“I’m surprised I can hit anything at all anymore,” he snickered to himself while studying his mechanical hand once again. You watched his eyes glaze over, as if he was watching a movie scene play out in his head. 
“You okay? We, we don’t have to do this,” you implored. 
“No, it’s okay. Throw a few into the air at once, if you could,” Crosshair coaxed. 
“Is it cool if I shoot some with you? Want to see who’s faster?” you challenged.
Crosshair looked down the barrel, “You’re on.” 
You tossed several birds out at once with precision. None of them floated for long as you and Crosshair blew them to smithereens within seconds. About ten minutes after repeating this routine, you were out of clay birds to throw. 
“I don’t think we missed a single bird,” you bantered, throwing the empty box onto the deck.
“I guess you could say we make a good team,” Crosshair blushed and stepped closer to hand the rifle back to you. You let your hand slide down the barrel as you took a step closer to him, gazing up into his eyes for a few seconds too long.
“What is it?” Crosshair swooned a little. 
“I don’t mind these little moments with you,” you professed. “You’re different.”
Crosshair responded with a soft smile and small laugh, “I’m defective.”
Completely missing the joke, you respond “You shoot perfectly, even with a mechanical hand. I wouldn’t call that ‘defective.’” 
“No, like I’m defective by nature?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to explain, “My family, we’re all defective clones.”
“Oh.” It finally dawned on you why they all looked very alike, “Like defective clone troopers,” you muttered.
“You didn’t see that immediately?” Crosshair was a little stunned.
“No, I just thought you were… Well, take no offense to this, but regular people,” you admitted.
“You thought we were regular?” Crosshair laughed. “And Tech was always the one that said none of us would pass a psychological examination.”
You sat down on the deck, pulling on Crosshair’s hand to join you.
“Who’s Tech?” you asked.
Crosshair sat down on the deck next to you and put the blaster to his side. He pulled his legs close to his chest and crossed his arms in front of them. He was afraid to open up to you and to let you in. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, just as Omega had taught him in meditation, and just as he breathed behind the sniper scope for so many years.
“Tech was my brother.” Crosshair spoke more to the ocean than to you. “We all knew the risks to living a life as a soldier. Tech died protecting Omega and my brothers.” He paused for a moment, then resumed with hesitation, “He died trying to save me. We’re a family, but in a lot of ways, we’ll never be the same without Tech.” 
The boat rocked back and forth on the water as the ocean breeze responded to Crosshair’s words. You sat in silence next to him watching the birds fly just above the water. You reached out your arm across his back and leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt forced, this one-sided embrace, but you held him for a moment to share your condolences without breaking the silence. 
Surprised by your grasp, Crosshair breaks his tucked position and pulls you in, looping one leg around you and pulling you against his chest. His embrace tightened as his face fell to the nape of your neck. He exhaled slowly into your skin. You too relaxed into his grip.
Your comm rang, ruining the moment. You slid the small circular device out of your pocket and watched it ring.
“Are you going to answer that?” Crosshair inquired. His embrace broke slightly as you sat up a bit higher. The ghostly look on your face as you studied the device answered some of Crosshair’s question. “You’re afraid to answer it.” He muttered, releasing his embrace entirely. 
“What are you hiding?” He questioned.
“We’ll answer it together,” you answered the call.
A blue hologram figure appeared, floating above the small device. The figure was wearing a helmet to mask his face. He was unfamiliar to you, so you asked, “Who are you?”
“You don’t remember? Always so impersonal.” The voice was deep in response. “I have a warning for you. Vinn Carvel knows it was you that took the artifact from the compound upon your exit. Turns out, you were doing him a favor.”
“A favor?” You blustered in bewilderment. You felt Crosshair’s eyes shift from the hologram to you. Your heart sank.
“That artifact had an Inquisitor at our door this morning. Looks like you took something— priceless.” The hologramed voice continued, “If you’re on the run, I’d keep running. That’s the last you’ll hear from us.” The hologram switched off.
“What’s he talking about?” Crosshair sounded concerned. You met his gaze with a dissociated look.
“I might be dangerous after all,” you attested. 
You and Crosshair fled back to the island. The ship chopped roughly along the water as you held the throttle to the max. Crosshair rode on the opposite side of the ship in silence. The water around you began to darken, as if something was blocking out the sun. You look up, only to find your deepest anxieties ignite in the shadow of an Imperial shuttle.
The Imperial ship followed you to the island, appearing larger and larger as its altitude dropped. Crosshair picked up one of your rifles and held it close. You knew there was nowhere to run, but you needed to get Crosshair back to his family before conversing with the Empire.
You docked the boat and yelled to Crosshair, “Run!” He jumped from the boat to the dock and sprinted up the mountain out of sight.
Knowing what the Empire was after, you grabbed the backpack that rarely left your sight and jumped to the dock. You spied the shuttle landing at the spaceport, so you started running towards the Imperial shuttle.
Just throw them the bag and get out of there. You told yourself, but there was an unsettling feeling that it wasn’t going to be as easy as you’d hoped. 
Just as you got into the spaceport, you were met by two Imperial officers.
“Get on the ground with your hands up,” they barked. You followed their orders and immediately knelt with your hands up. 
From the main entrance of the shuttle, a hooded figure appeared and walked down the ramp. The inquisitor’s lightsaber ignited and they dragged the red blade alongside the ground as they walked towards you.
“Funny how you’re on this side of things now, Tarkin,” the Inquisitor snarled. “Your uncle was most displeased when he learned of your… desertion.” 
“Imperial royalty wasn’t my idea of a good life,” you hissed back. 
“Where’s the holocron?” The Inquisitor wasted no time.
“Just take the backpack,” you insisted.
The imperial guard behind you unzipped your bag and ruffled through it. He paused for a moment and pulled out a glowing pyramid. 
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The Inquisitor smiled and accepted the holocron from the guard. “Lord Vader will be most pleased.” 
“Lord–who?” You quipped back.
“Guards, take her into custody and back with us to Mustafar,” the Inquisitor bellowed.
It was seconds after the guards forcefully applied the cuffs to your wrists and yanked you to stand that you heard blaster fire. Both guards fell to your side and the Inquisitor spun their lightsaber blade inches from your throat. You froze.
“I see you’ve made friends,” the Inquisitor deadpanned.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Crosshair slide down the lookout tower's side and walk closer to the Inquisitor. 
“You dare challenge me?” The Inquisitor called out.
Crosshair squeezed the trigger, causing the Inquisitor to block the blaster fire. You fell to the ground and shuffled away from the blade’s reach. Crosshair continued the onslaught of blaster fire, until one shot landed. Then another. The Inquisitor’s blade retreated and they fell to their knees staring up at Crosshair. 
“You can’t kill a force wielder,” they managed to utter in a weakened voice.
“Unfortunately for you, I was designed to.” Crosshair said as he pulled the trigger once more, causing the Inquisitor to fall lifeless at his feet.
Crosshair studied his kill, but directed his voice towards you, “Are you okay?”
You nodded in disbelief and responded in a near whisper, “You came back for me?”
He stepped over his kill towards you and ordered, “Turn around.”
You turned and gave him your hands. He took his knife and cut through the restraints and turned you to face him, his hands not leaving your sides. His eyes, broken with mistrust, looked longingly into yours.
“I have to go now,” you rasped. “I have to get this thing off the planet and away… from you. I’m so sorry.”
Crosshair, at a loss for words, moved his hand from your waist to your cheek. 
“Go.” He shuddered. You fell into his embrace and pulled away after a few second’s time. Crosshair planted a soft kiss on your lips and let go of you; you broke him. 
Detaching yourself from the screaming emotion of unspoken affections, you turned your attention to the mess you and Crosshair had made. 
“Help me get these bodies onto this ship,” You began. “I’ll follow their previous flight path, mess with the computer, and make it look like they never got to the planet. I doubt they’re tracking their Inquisitors closely.”
Crosshair nodded and helped you lug the bodies into the shuttle. 
“You’re not going to destroy the shuttle with yourself in it, right?” He prodded. 
“Unfortunately for you, no,” you gawked. 
“How can you joke at a time like this?” Crosshair fretted while heaving the last body into the shuttle. 
“I’ll remotely control my ship to come get me. Don’t worry. I’m going to be fine. This plan is our best shot to protect Pabu, then I’ll get rid of this artifact before anyone else comes looking for it,” you explained as you walked up the ramp of the shuttle.
“And who is looking for it?” Crosshair called to you. 
“I have more secrets to whisper to you later,” you sighed as you closed the shuttle entrance. 
—-
Racing to the pilot seat, you dispatched the landing gear and steered the shuttle to the sky, leaving Crosshair alone on the spaceport’s platform. Retracing the flight path with the computer, you found a nearby star system along the way to ditch the shuttle. 
Programming in the path to light speed, you pulled your tablet computer system from your bag and remotely controlled your private ship. Sending the flight coordinates, you programmed the ship to pick you up hours after ditching the shuttle. 
Now into space, you prepared the ship for lightspeed and punched it. It would only be a short journey, so you had to act fast if you were to erase the coordinate history of the ship and have enough time to clear your head. You worked your way into the computer, realizing it had been sending transponding coordinates of its position back to the Empire.
 The only way the plan would work is if nobody cross-referenced the computer’s data with the coordinates it sent the Empire. If anything, this maneuver would only buy you some time. You reprogrammed the ship’s harddrive, dropped out of hyperspace, ripped the motherboard containing the coordinate harddrive from the ship, and awaited your own ship’s arrival. It was a complex mission, but you were always quick enough on your feet to stay at least one step ahead of your enemy.
The hours moved slowly. You sat in the pilot's seat, feeling your thoughts catch up to your racing anxieties. The Empire found you. You thought to yourself. Crosshair will never trust you again. You sank into the chair. Crosshair. You owed him. He had saved you from Imperial capture; that of which you’d then be tried for treason and likely killed. It didn’t matter that you were a Tarkin or not, once a deserter, you were always an enemy to the Empire and your family. 
Your ship exited hyperspace on-schedule. You sigh in relief, then make your way to the escape pod. Launching yourself into space, you pilot the escape pod to your ship and dock it. You seal the cabins together and open your ship remotely. You drop inside your ship and double-check your bag for the artifact and motherboard. You close the seal and release the escape pod back into space.
“What’s the plan from here?” You hear Crosshair call from the cockpit. You had jumped a little as his presence startled you.
You walk up to the front of the ship and take the seat next to Crosshair. You reach out and touch his arm, as if to see if he was real or an apparition of your mind. Realizing your gaze was lost in the disbelief of his arrival, you turn your attention again to the shuttle that floated in space before you.
“Blow it up,” you commanded.
“Roger that,” Crosshair responded as he fired the ship’s cannons on the shuttle. 
“Get that escape pod too,” you pointed across the valley of space.
“Is that it?” Crosshair questioned.
“Not quite. One more thing,” you informed as you pulled the motherboard from your backpack. “Think you can do some sniping work from a ship’s cannon?”
Crosshair looked intrigued and raised a single eyebrow looking for further instruction. 
“It’s a dumb idea, but I’ll release this into space. If you can graze it with cannon fire, it’ll look like it went down in the blast. I reprogrammed it to look like it never made it to Pabu. I know they’ll likely cross-reference it with the shuttle's transponding coordinates, but this will buy me– or, us, some time. If we’re lucky, they’ll never cross-reference it because the motherboard will still be functional.”
“They’re going to be on us soon. This is a terrible idea.” Crosshair replied worriedly.
“Well, it gets worse.” You stood up from your seat and made your way to the back of the ship. “I sent out a distress call before exiting that ship. They’ll be here sooner than I’d like.”
“You are reckless.” Crosshair mouthed off.
“You’re the one that decided to read my file and thought it was a good idea to follow me out here.” 
Throwing the motherboard into the trash chute, you emptied the trash into space. Crosshair aimed next to the motherboard and burned it with cannon fire. Jogging back up to the cockpit, you slid into your seat, and punched the ship back into hyperspace. 
—-
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staycalmandhugaclone · 4 months
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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
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“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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Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings
@manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base
@daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan
@drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy
@mooncommlink @isthereanechoinhere96 @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh
@blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep
@amorfista @wanderneverlost @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil
@roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl @captainrex89
@waytoooldforthis78 @msmeredithrose @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @anythingandeveythingstarwars
@littlefeatherr @thegreatpipster @melonmochii @totallyunidentified @mickeyp03
@hipwell @echos_pile_of_bones
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