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hugmekenobi · 10 months ago

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Next Steps

A Bad Batch Post S2 Oneshot

Gif by @im-no-jedi

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Although your return to the Batch has made things better, there are still elements of your past you have to face...

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, made-up timeline and what I imagine what Echo will be doing, limited use of y/n, swearing, my views on mindsets, referenced 'dead' characters and nightmares, mentions/descriptions of torture, detailed scar descriptions, angst, light fluff, nickname 'sweetheart', some emotional hurt/comfort, body and general worship, Hunter being dominant but a consent king, hint of a praise kink, Smut (non-explicit descriptions of making out/kissing, grinding, edging, fingering, oral (f) receiving, overstimulation, handjob, unprotected p in v- not in reality please), reader described as strong and powerful, smart and beautiful, Force-communication and more of my general interpretation of how the Force feels/works

Masterlist for S1 and S2

Word Count: 12.8K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Once again, a massive thank you to @burningfieldof-clover for helping me when I got stuck and who I am very grateful to have as a friend! Dropping this before S3 graces our screens and I hope you all enjoy!

Chibbier

Echo waited in the forest clearing as the Marauder touched down. “I got your message. It sounded urgent, is everything alright?” Echo asked as soon as the door to the Marauder opened revealing his two brothers.

“Everything is fine, Echo.” Hunter said.

“More than fine.” Wrecker emphasised.

“But we agreed we weren’t to meet until (Y/N) was back with us so unless you’ve found her…” He trailed off as he saw the smile tugging at Wrecker’s mouth and Hunter in particular seemed more at ease than he’d been in the recent months. “Wait a second, you mean-”

“Hey stranger.” You said with a grin as you came into view and stood between Hunter and Wrecker. You laughed as Echo’s expression changed from stunned to happy then to relief in quick succession. You jogged down the steps and embraced him tightly. “Long time no see.”

“I’ll say.” Echo replied with a smile as he mirrored your actions. “You had me worried.”

“Worried?” You queried. It sounded like he had a specific worry in mind rather than the general worries that had plagued the rest of you for months.

“Last news of you I’d heard had me getting ready to tell the boys to launch a rescue mission.” Echo said as he parted from you. “But lucky for us, they found you before I needed to share that.”

If you weren’t so happy to see him, you could’ve punched him. You weren’t far away enough from the other two and you knew Echo’s words wouldn’t go unheard, especially by the clone with enhanced senses. You hadn’t gotten around to sharing that part of your time alone and you weren’t sure that you wanted to either.

Hunter hadn’t forgotten that there was something about your past that you weren’t telling him. He’d noticed small shifts and changes in your behaviour since you’d been back. It was things like you made sure to keep your top layer on at all times and if you had to take it off, you would always go to the refresher regardless of it you were alone or not which was something you never used to do. You hadn’t communicated with either him or Wrecker in the silent way you were able to do where they’d hear your voice in their head which was something you did regularly in the past. You were also more emotionally and physically distant, the latter happening at night in particular and ordinarily it wouldn’t bother him, but he knew the cause was rooted in something you’d gone through. But every time he tried to broach the issue, you refused to talk about whatever it was that was causing it, and it pained him that he could do nothing but watch the negative impact it continued to have on you.

“What’s going on with, Omega? Any new leads?” You asked Echo instead, ignoring Hunter’s hand that now rested on your upper arm.

“(Y/N)-”

“Not now, Hunter. Please.”

Hunter released a quiet and resigned sigh. He wanted to help you if he could, but he also knew he had to wait until you were ready. It was just getting harder to do that.

Echo glanced between the two of you. “I said something I shouldn’t have, didn’t I?”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. Just fill us in.”

Echo’s eyes darted to Hunter who only nodded. He took a breath and waited for Wrecker to join the three of you. “Nothing new. Imperial security on Hemlock is tight and any breakthrough just results in more cryptic information.”

“Yeah, we’ve had much of the same.” You agreed irritably.

Echo nodded before he faced Hunter. “I know we said that we’d come together once we had (Y/N) back with us, but I think it’s better if I stay doing what I’m doing. Rex and I are going to meet and try to pool together what we’ve gathered. We can tell you what we find and send you to follow up on other sources since we can’t cover everything ourselves and you can also keep searching on your own.”

Before Hunter could form a reply, the sound of branches snapping grabbed his attention.

The blaster bolt that immediately followed the noise, skimmed the armour on your upper arm.

You all reacted quickly and took cover behind the trees.

The onslaught of fire was being directed towards you and would only occasionally be aimed to your fellow clones as a way to keep them from advancing towards the source. Evidently you were the main target here.

“Hunter!” You shouted over the sound of blaster fire. When he pressed his back against the tree trunk and his helmet looked over to you, you called on the Force and dragged the assailant out from their spot, and a well-aimed shot from Hunter saw to it that the blaster was rendered useless. You kept that link with your ally to Force-push them into another tree, and they crumbled to the floor.

All of you lowered your blaster for the moment. You needed to find out why they were here, killing them immediately wouldn’t get you very far.

You stepped out from behind your tree and observed the bounty hunter carefully. Throughout the firefight, you’d felt yourself being pulled towards them, but you couldn’t work out why and that urge hadn’t gone away.

Stiff and unsteady movements had you readying your blaster again but as the hunter got to their feet and caught your eye, you understood why that feeling was there.

Your heart stopped and you stayed rooted to the spot as you saw the blade ignite from the hilt they were holding. The ground around them illuminated in a pale blue haze and you understood what was calling you to the hunter now. Your feet suddenly began moving of their own accord.

The other three all shared a collective bewildered look at what was unfolding in front of them.

Hunter collected his shock quickly and raised his hand to order the others to halt their fire as you fully stepped out to into the clearing.

The bounty hunter charged for you, but the attack posed little threat to you. Whoever this was had no idea how to use an elegant weapon like this and their grip was heavy and clumsy. It wouldn’t take much for you to disarm them.

You ducked under their reckless and uncoordinated swing, grabbed their wrist, and bent it back until the weapon fell from their grasp. You landed a hard kick to their chest, and they stumbled back. The hood fell loose- now exposing a feminine face- but she wasn’t a bounty hunter you recognised. You didn’t have much time to dwell on that since she grabbed a small knife from her boot and jabbed it towards your stomach. You parried away her strikes before you grew tired of dragging this altercation out. Landing a strong punch to her jaw, you used her dazed disposition to Force-pull her face down to the forest floor and waved the others forward.

Hunter and Wrecker pressed their knees into her back and brought her arms around to firmly hold them behind her.

You paid little attention to what they were doing. You hesitantly walked over to the weapon left discarded on the ground.

“Who hired you?” Hunter demanded as he held her down.

“Fuck off.” She snarled as she fought against their grip, but they were too strong, and she was in a much weaker position than she’d been in ten minutes ago.

Echo merely bent down to reach into her jacket pocket and pulled out the tracking fob and bounty puck. Your holographic image confirming what they’d all suspected.

Upon seeing that, Hunter found himself pushing his knee deeper into her spine, paying little attention to her groans of protest.

“Where did you get this?” You questioned softly, more to yourself than anything. You kept your back turned to her as you knelt down and studied the familiar design on the hilt. You couldn’t pick it up, not yet. You knew what you would feel if you did, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

“What?” The bounty hunter snapped as she went for another attempt to wriggle free, but the two clones kept her tight to the forest floor.

You stiffened your posture as you turned on your heels and strode over to her. You lowered your mask, found your voice, and crouched down to her eye level. “Where did you get the lightsaber?” You pointed back to where the weapon still lay abandoned.

“I’m not telling you a thing, Jedi brat.” She spat.

At her words, Hunter twisted her arm harder, ignoring her pained cry.

You signalled to Hunter to ease up and you stood tall once more and indicated to them both to get her on her feet.

Once they did so, you pressed your blaster against her stomach and brought your lips close to her ear- your voice a quiet but lethal whisper. “You know who I am and what I’ve done to people to get what I want. Do you want to be next?” At her harsh gulp, you kept pushing. “I can’t imagine what that’ll do for your reputation in your community... then again, maybe I can… shall we find out?” You knew you’d done enough as you sensed her flicker of fear. You took a step back and looked at her with a firm glare.

“It was the client I did the job for.” She muttered begrudgingly. She wasn’t about to be maimed or die for a job that wasn’t paying all that much in the first place. She’d worked too hard to be seen as a contender, she couldn’t lose that now.

“And who was that?” Hunter asked again, his voice steely.

“Some shop owner.” She replied irritably.

“A name.” You insisted.

“I can’t remember.”

You puffed out an exasperated sigh and took a half step forward.

“Kedrin! His name was Kedrin!” She revealed fretfully.

You saw the shared look between Hunter and Wrecker. “That name mean something to you?”

Wrecker nodded. “He was the one that told us to go to Christophsis to find you.”

The name meant nothing to you upon initially hearing it but evidently you were involved somehow. You ran the information over in your head. Shop owner… Kedrin… Christophsis… it was starting to make sense in your head and that would mean… Your breath caught in your throat as it hit you. You hadn’t even known his name and you’d taken his only family away from him.

“Why set the bounty on her?” Echo asked coolly, keeping his blaster focused on her.

“Not really supposed to ask.” She grunted. “He just mentioned a dead brother.” She saw the flash of something in your eyes… it looked like regret. “Oh… you killed him.”

You glared at her. You hadn’t had time to fill Echo in yet and this was not how you wanted to go about it.

Echo’s eyes darted from her to you. “What is she talking about?”

“Echo…” You started but a cruel laugh from the bounty hunter interrupted you.

“Oh, she’s achieved quite the reputation. Can’t go far in the Outer Rim without coming across someone who had dealings with her.”

Echo angled his head to face you, but you wouldn’t meet his gaze. As hard as you were trying to hide it, you looked… ashamed?

“Back off.” Wrecker growled at the hunter as he saw your mask of composure slip for a moment.

“What’s the matter, Jedi? Suddenly the killing and torture got too much for you? If they were all as weak as you, no wonder they’re all gone.” She taunted mercilessly.

“Shut up.” Hunter snarled as he saw the way your fists clenched as you worked on keeping your distress at bay.

But you knew it was a pointless venture. Despite her current predicament, that bounty hunter arrogance was in full flow now that she’d discovered your weakness, and she wasn’t about to stop. Her stare was filled with malice, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of turning away. Your shoulders heaved as you worked on keeping your breathing even and controlled.

The bounty hunter addressed the clones now. "I didn’t get much guidance from my client aside from ‘kill her’ so ever since I picked up that bounty, I've been trying to think of the most chaotic way to take her out. She's obviously felt enough emotional turmoil that an easy death would be a mercy. Jedi don't deserve the luxury. I like to play with my food before I kill it."

“And how’s that worked out for you?” You retorted though your conviction was weak as her words found their mark and her sneer told you she was completely unbothered about her current situation now. Your only plan involved letting her overconfidence be her own undoing.

“Nice try.” She mocked. “For a moment I believed your threats but now that I’m really looking at you, I know you don’t have it in you to kill me anymore. You’ve gone soft and you’re pathetic I can see it in your eyes- you’re haunted by what you’ve done, Jedi.”

Your jaw clenched and you could feel those emotions you’d worked so hard to control start to rise to the surface.

“I’m getting outta here and I fully intend to finish what the Empire started-”

Hunter’s fatal shot to her chest silenced her and she flopped to the ground.

“Looks like you have something you need to deal with first.” Echo advised Hunter as he destroyed the puck and tracking fob for good measure before he holstered his blaster. He faced you. “I still don’t know what happened whilst you were on your own, but your past is your own, I won’t hold anything against you, we’re still okay.” He reassured you.

You barely managed a nod of acknowledgement as her words were still replaying in your mind, but you wouldn’t let it show. Instead, you took out your vibroblade and cut a section of her clothing. You stayed silent as you took the piece of fabric and wrapped the lightsaber in it. You knew it was a lame gesture- especially since you immediately felt that rush of connection as you lifted it- but it provided you with a false sense of security that you would rather have because the second you made unrestrained contact with it, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist or turn your back on it again. You held the hilt tightly before you waved farewell to Echo and made for the ship.

Hunter nodded absentmindedly at Echo’s words whilst his gaze was fixed on you. He knew seeing that lightsaber might bring back some memories, but the intensity of your reaction told him there was more to it than simply remembering that period of your life. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and reached his hand out to Echo. “Be safe, Echo. We’ll be in touch once we’ve dealt with this.”

“You too.” Echo replied, meeting Hunter’s hand in a firm handshake before they parted, and he watched Hunter head back to the Marauder.

“See you later, Echo.” Wrecker said warmly as he lightly slapped his brother’s shoulder before he followed Hunter to the ship.

“What’s so special about this lightsaber?” Wrecker asked as the ship entered hyperspace.

Hunter leaned against the entrance to the cockpit, arms crossed as he studied you. Your eyes hadn’t left the weapon sitting in your lap.

“It’s mine.” You said quietly.

Hunter immediately straightened up. “It’s yours?” He repeated.

“Yup.” You cleared your throat and brought your eyes up to face the two clones. “I figured it would’ve been destroyed in Order 66. Guess not.” You said with a resigned sigh.

“Woah! Talk about lucky!” Wrecker said excitedly but you didn’t seem to match his enthusiasm. “This is good news, isn’t it?” He asked, tilting his head at you.

“I don’t know what kind of news it is, Wrecker.” You said honestly.

“What’s your hold up?” Hunter asked curiously.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty handy weapon to have and if it belongs to you, isn’t it better that it’s back with you?” Wrecker followed up.

“It’s difficult to explain.” You deflected.

“Try us.” Hunter encouraged gently.

You shot him a look, hoping he would drop it but the look in his eyes told you that he was not for dissuading. You released a short breath. “It would be like taking back a section of my life I was ready to leave behind. That I had left behind… for years.”

“And you don’t know if you’re ready to reconnect with that part of you yet?” Hunter guessed.

You shrugged in complacent agreement. “Making the choice to leave the Jedi Order was already difficult and leaving my lightsaber…. well, that was hard enough the first time and now that I have it back… I don’t know.” You ran a hand over your face. “It’s just complicated.” You got to your feet and carefully put the lightsaber on a shelf in the cockpit.

Wrecker slapped his hands against his thighs. “Well, I always think things look less complicated after a good sleep, what do ya say? We all could use some rest before we sort out this Kedrin guy.”

Sleep didn’t provide you with much respite these days, but you hummed out a quiet laugh and shared a brief smile with Hunter. “Sounds like a good idea, Wrecker.”

Hunter jolted awake, panic setting in as he reached for you only to find that you weren’t there, and he had a horrible feeling that he hadn’t woken up yet. But no, he could hear Wrecker’s faint snores, so he had to be awake, and he knew he was back with you, it wasn’t a trick. There would be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t lying next to him right now.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. You were here, you’d been here for a while now. He’d found you; you were okay. It wasn’t like before. You were probably just in the cockpit. Yes, that’s where you had to be.

When he felt himself calm down, he got to his feet and noiselessly made his way there but paused in the entryway as he saw you reading one of Tech’s old datapads, top layer still on, feet tucked up beneath you as you sat in the pilot’s seat. He thought he’d gathered them all. “Where’d you find that?” He rasped; his voice still thick with sleep.

You jumped in your chair as you heard him. You had been utterly absorbed in what you were reading, you hadn’t sensed him approach. You looked up to see Hunter standing in the doorway to the cockpit. “Tucked behind the medkit. I forgot how much Tech truly recorded.” You said in fond remembrance although there was an overall sense of sorrow in your voice. You flashed him the title of the current report you were reading. “Remember that mission on Ryloth?”

“You and Wrecker got separated from the rest of us and decided to blow up the target from the inside and escape through the garbage chute if I remember correctly?”

“Right.” You said with a soft chuckle.

“Pretty sure that was the mission that made you a fully-fledged member of our squad, Wrecker couldn’t stop raving about you after that. I was almost jealous.” Hunter managed to joke.

You gave him a small grin at that before you turned off the datapad and properly took him in. “Guess you couldn’t sleep either?” You asked in a hushed voice as Hunter stepped further into the cockpit.

Hunter merely shook his head and sat across from you.

“Nightmares?” You figured as you delicately put the datapad back and sat in your seat once more.

“I prefer calling them recaps.” Hunter muttered dully as he sat across from you.

You reached for his knee and squeezed it comfortingly. “Do you want to talk more about them?”

Hunter shook his head. “You know and lived it all too and being here with you helps anyway. What about you?”

“Just a lot weighing on my mind.” You said airily as you brought your hand back to your lap.

Hunter made a small noise of quiet understanding. He hadn’t been expecting much more by way of a response from you.

“I don’t know how he does it.” You whispered in sad envy as you jutted your chin over to where Wrecker was sleeping soundly.

Hunter followed your gaze and sighed. “It’s the only way he can switch off. Especially in the early months, he struggled with remembering everything.”

“Yeah, any form of healing from all this won’t be easy.” You said with a heavy breath.

“Wrecker might be able to sleep better than we can, but he keeps a blaster by him and has his hand on it at all times. I don’t think he ever wants to be caught off guard again.” Hunter replied solemnly. “Moving on won’t ever be simple.”

You dipped your head in agreement and leaned back in your chair.

The minutes ticked by and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before Hunter cleared his throat. “I’m going to be selfish for a moment, okay?”

You tilted your head at him and adjusted your posture to give him your full attention. “Okay…”

Hunter took another breath, his throat bobbing before he spoke, “You can’t leave me to wake up alone like that.”

It hit you immediately. Fuck, you’d been an idiot, of course you couldn’t do that. If he’d done that to you, you would lose your shit. How could you have been so stupid? “Hunter-”

“I had one night too many of waking up to a cold and empty space and worrying about where you were and what was happening to you. I can’t go through it again, I won’t. Not anymore.”

You’d been so wrapped up in your own head, you hadn’t even considered what that would do to him, but you should’ve known better, especially because your reaction would be exactly like his. You quietly stood up and closed the short gap between you to straddle his lap.

He accommodated you in an instant and his eyes fluttered shut as you gently stroked your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” You soothed as you placed delicate kisses to his face whilst you moved your hands to rub up and down his chest, his sleep clothes warm and soft beneath your palms.

Hunter caught your wrists and tenderly caressed the scars left there as a result of what you’d endured in Cid’s parlour. “I barely lived through it once and I won’t do it ever again. I don’t care what time it is, if you’re up and struggling with something you wake me up with you. I’d rather that than wake up without you and have that pain and panic set it again. Promise me… please.” He begged, brushing some strands of hair back behind your ear as his eyes looked deep into yours.

You nuzzled into his neck and placed a gentle kiss on his pulse point. “I promise.” Your lips traced his jaw. “And you promise too.”

“I promise.” Hunter agreed and he tucked his fingers under your chin and brought your lips to his.

You had wanted to keep it short and sweet, but you soon found yourself physically incapable. One gentle nip from him on your bottom lip and you were done for. The kiss soon turned hungry and desperate. The two of you were consumed by a passion you’d had no outlet for yet, and you were getting completely lost in the moment. Your hands threaded themselves in his hair and you pressed yourself against him as he deepened the kiss and squeezed your hips to get you to subtly grind against him which were instructions you were only too happy to follow.

It was all over though when you felt his hands start to reach the bottom of your shirt and brush against your bare skin. Instinctively, you flinched away, and you crashed back to reality. You knew what marks you were concealing, and what he would feel if he lifted your shirt, and it wasn’t something he should have to see. “I- I can’t.” You panted against his lips. Your body yearned for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go any further, not yet. Everything was still too fresh, and you couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to.

Even though his body burned for you, he’d never push you into this, but he wanted to share the burden of whatever it was that was tormenting you. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you?” Hunter murmured breathlessly as he glanced up at you.

You swallowed thickly. “I want to but-” You released a low, shaky breath. “It’s- it’s hard to talk about.”

Hunter stroked your cheek. “Well, when you’re ready, I’ll be right there.”

You pressed your lips into his palm.

“Come on, let’s try to get some rest. We’ll arrive at Nelvaan in a few hours.” He kissed your forehead before you got to your feet and the two of you made your way back to your bunk.

“Y- you’re supposed- supposed to be dead!” Kedrin exclaimed fearfully as he cowered behind the main counter upon seeing you standing in the doorway of his shop, the two clones on either side of your shoulders.

“You should’ve sprung for a better bounty hunter then.” You countered as you walked towards the store owner. “I have some questions for you.”

“No, I’m not dealing with any of you ever again!” Kedrin reached underneath the counter and pulled out a blaster and pointed it at you.

You stopped your advance and raised your hands in surrender. “Kedrin, I just need to talk to you.”

“Fuck you! You don’t get to use my name and talk to me like what you did to me was nothing!”

You internally cringed at the memory of what you’d put him through.

“Did you even know he was my brother?!” He shouted in anger. “Did you even care, you heartless bitch?!”

Hunter tensed beside you.

You lightly grazed his hand with your own to tell him it was fine but at the same time shame coiled in your gut. You lowered your mask and kept your voice low and composed. “Kedrin-”

“Stop using my fucking name, you never bothered with it before!” He then turned his rage to the clone that stood closest to you. “And you! I still have the scar from you!” He yelled at the clone on your right, the blaster in his hand still quivering as he aimed it between the three of you.

Hunter stood unwavering beside you and said nothing.

You saw how unsteady his grip on his blaster was. “You’re not a killer, Kedrin. It’s why you sent the bounty hunter after me in the first place.” You said as an attempt to talk him down but the Force around him was in complete chaos, the only emotion that had any kind of control was his anger and that was dangerous. You knew the kind of pain and wrath the loss of a loved one could unleash, and it was why you’d never wanted to put anyone through it in the first place but now you were seeing the impact of your mistake firsthand.

“You killed my brother you fucking bitch!”

You sensed him getting ready to pull the trigger. “Kedrin-” You ducked as the blaster bolt came straight for your head. You channelled the Force and took the blaster from his hand whilst Hunter and Wrecker used that distraction to advance and subdue him. They shoved his head and torso down to press against the countertop.

“Do you want one to match?” Hunter threatened as he reached for his vibroblade and held the sharp point just above Kedrin’s unmarked hand as he and Wrecker held him down.

“Hunter, it’s okay.” You said, pulling him back from that line the two of you had agreed to keep each other from as you saw the way his grip strengthened and the wince of pain Kedrin couldn’t conceal.

Kedrin kept looking for a way out of their hold but was proving futile. “She murdered my brother.” He whimpered as he continued some half-hearted attempts to free himself.

“You’re right. I did.” You approached him and crouched to meet his eyeline. “And it was a mistake that I’m plagued by to this day. All I can do is say that I’m sorry. I know you’d love nothing more than to kill me too, it would probably feel great but please, please Kedrin, don’t do this. It won’t end well for you.” You begged. When his resistance finally ceased, you turned your attention to Hunter.

“Give us a minute.” You said to Hunter, resting a hand on the top of his shoulder.

“But-” Hunter got ready to argue.

“Hunter.” You interrupted firmly and fixed him with a stern stare.

Recognising that tone and look in your eyes, Hunter released a disgruntled but compliant sigh and nodded to Wrecker to let him go. He holstered his blaster and sheathed his vibroblade before leading the way out.

As you heard the door shut, you stepped back from the counter to give Kedrin some space. “You have no reason to trust me, but I promise that I’m not going to hurt you, that’s not why I’m here.”

“You’re- you’re not here to kill me for the bounty hunter?” Kedrin asked warily.

You shook your head. “There was a time where that’s what precisely I would do and I wouldn’t even hesitate, but you’re not the person I’m supposed to be hurting and neither was your brother. I know nothing I say will bring you comfort but I am not here to kill you. I only want to talk.” You said sincerely as you put your weapons to the ground and faced him calmly.

Kedrin massaged his right shoulder- which had been on the receiving end of a particularly harsh grip from the clone you referred to as ‘Hunter’- and narrowed his eyes at you. “What is it exactly that you want to talk about?”

“This.” You placed the lightsaber on the counter and unwrapped it. “Where’d you get it?”

Kedrin wasn’t buying that that was all you wanted to know about, you had to be here for revenge. “How do I know you won’t do some magic thing like you did last time?”

You released an irritated sigh. “Because if I was going to do that, I would’ve done it already. I won’t lie, I can’t leave here with you still intent on sending hunters after me or I will have to do some things neither of us will enjoy, particularly you. I will always regret taking yours away from you, it was never part of my plan to leave someone alone, but my family is still counting on me, and I can’t have anything messing that up. Please, leave us alone and I’ll never bother you again after this.”

Kedrin angled his head and regarded you inquisitively. His body was still filled with fear of being alone with you, but it was like there was a different person standing before him- you seemed genuinely upset and sorry; and that in of itself would be punishment enough- better you feel the guilt of what you’d done than have an easy out. “You’re the most terrifying person I’ve ever met but for some reason, I believe what you’re saying. No more bounty hunters.”

You felt into the Force around him but there was no dishonesty or deceit. “The lightsaber?” You redirected his attention to the weapon on the counter.

Kedrin shrugged. “What about it?”

“Where did you get it?” You repeated impatiently.

Kedrin flinched at your tone and- not wanting to risk upsetting you any further- started wiping down some glass cases to channel his nervous energy and spoke quickly. “I’ve had it for a while, couldn’t tell you who gave it to me. Just that they were employed to be a part of the clean-up after your lot betrayed the Chancellor and found it and wanted a souvenir of the experience.”

You coughed and bit back the flurry of insults and threats that nearly escaped your mouth.

Kedrin, now so focused on his task that he was oblivious to your discomfort, carried on in a restless ramble, “Guess they ran into tough times during the transition period and wanted rid of it for some quick cash. No one really wanted to buy it though, it just sat there which was why I gave it to that bounty hunter.”

You felt your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you realised what this could mean for you. Leaving it behind had been an active choice to cut part of yourself off from the Force and now you had a chance to feel the Force flow through you as a single entity, no more jagged or disjointed connections… but you didn’t know if you were ready for that yet, it was too much to even comprehend. If it had survived everything and found its way back to you… did that mean that you could too?

“So, um are you going to pay for it?” He dared to ask but your sharp and cold glower had him gulping nervously and wringing his hands. “Uh, never mind, you can take it.” He said hastily. “Just let us be done with each other.”

You said nothing to him, you only covered it once more, picked up your other weapons and exited the shop.

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked as you emerged from the store.

“We were going to go get some supplies if you want to join?” Wrecker added.

“I need a moment. You guys go.” You said, giving Wrecker your concealed lightsaber and avoiding eye contact with them both as you hurried back to the Marauder.

Having found a moment of relief under the warm water, you got out of the shower and started to towel off and redress but as you pulled your tank top over you, you realised you’d left your long sleeve out by your bunk. You swore under your breath and only hoped the other two would take a bit longer on the supply run. You dashed out the door of the refresher and started to rummage through the bunk for it.

“Who did that to you?”

You whipped around to see Hunter stood frozen in the entryway to the Marauder. “Dammit Hunter-”

“Who did that to you?” He repeated heatedly, his concern and rage rising each second. The sight of the deep and cruel scars that disappeared from your upper back beneath your shirt to the rest of your back was engrained in his mind and any plans of waiting for you to come to him evaporated as his anger and protectiveness overcame him.

Wrecker stepped up beside his brother, put the supplies down and your weapon on a shelf. He nervously glanced between the two of you and it didn’t take an enhanced skill for him to pick up on the way Hunter was trembling with fury. “Eh, what’d I miss?”

Hunter ignored him and kept his eyes on you. “Who was it?”

You turned back around to grab your shirt and it was then that you heard Wrecker’s sharp inhale as he too now saw what it was Hunter had seen. You fiddled with the fabric, twisting it tightly in your hands. “It wasn’t like it was solely one person. Just forget about it.” You muttered aloofly.

“No, I can’t just forget about it. Who. Hurt. You?”

You sighed heavily and half-turned to face the two clones. “It was a two for one special.”

“Don’t.” Hunter chided sternly. He couldn’t have you make light of this, not when he’d seen what you’d gone through now. He couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer anymore and, as awful as a part of him found it, he had to push you now.

There was no leeway in his voice, you weren’t going to be able to dodge and weave your way out of this conversation now. “Basically, it was both Imperial Stormtroopers and their higher command officers.” You swallowed harshly. “They- they worked together on this one.”

Hunter simply stormed away from you to the ship’s controls. “Wrecker, let’s get the ship in the air.”

“You’re going to go after every Imperial officer and stormtrooper in the galaxy?” You scrappily tugged your top layer over you and hustled after the two of them as they strode into the cockpit.

“If I have to!” Hunter growled.

“I’m with the Sarge on this one.” Wrecker agreed severely as he started to power up the ship.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought but that’s not logical nor practical!” You argued.

“Don’t talk to me about practicality when they did that to you!” Hunter shouted angrily.

“It was my fault, Hunter!” You yelled back.

That caused both of them to pause and Wrecker turned off the engine.

“I did it to myself.” You said, your voice scarcely above a whisper as you braced yourself for the time you were about to relive.

“What are you talking about?” Hunter asked, his voice as quiet as yours now as he studied your face carefully.

“Before I tell you, I need you both to stay calm. Especially you.” You said to Hunter. You knew he wasn’t mad at you; his reaction had been exactly as you’d expected. His fierce protectiveness was a quality you loved about him, but it could be his undoing if he wasn’t careful. “And you need to know and accept that nothing would’ve changed it, it wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I acted in poor and emotional judgement and there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent it. Please, trust me on this.” You insisted with a pleading stare at him before you looked to Wrecker who- albeit hesitantly- nodded. You glanced to Hunter again who was still looking like he could take on the Empire singlehandedly. “Hunter?”

Hunter felt a keen sense of dread at your words, and it was highly likely he wouldn’t be able to view it quite as simply as that, but he allowed himself a deep and calming breath. He’d do this for you. “Tell me.”

You exhaled nervously and fidgeted with your hands. Realistically, you’d known you wouldn’t be able to go through the rest of your life without being found out or talking about it but that didn’t make doing this any easier. “I’m sure I don’t really have to go into how hard it was to find each other, right? I’m sure you guys had your fair share of failed leads and things were pretty hopeless for a while, yes?”

Hunter and Wrecker both nodded.

You took another breath. “Right, well, it was the same for me. During our time apart, nothing I did was getting me any closer to you and I could feel it draining me every day. Lyra and I arrived on Christophsis and decided to settle there but it didn’t help. No matter how hard I searched, no matter how much of myself I gave up when it came to getting what I wanted, nothing was bringing results, and I was angry. I was angry, frustrated and just miserable. And it was in that poor state of mind that I made a choice that I shouldn’t have.”

Hunter knew those emotions all too well and he’d get incredibly impatient and unfocused when they got overwhelming, but he’d been fortunate to have Wrecker around to pick up the load when it got too much. Yes, you may have had Lyra, but he knew you and how you operated, and you would’ve put it all on you, regardless of how exhausting it would’ve been and that’s what made him nervous as he awaited further explanation.

You shuffled your feet. “I was being a bit of a nuisance to the Empire wherever I went, Christophsis was no exception, but I was getting nowhere on the information front so, in my slightly unstable state, I figured the best way to find out about you or even Hemlock was to um well, find it straight from the source.”

Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. “No, no you didn’t.”

Wrecker looked between the two of you in confusion but then it clicked with him too and he stared at you, horrified. “Why would you do that?”

You swallowed thickly. “I thought that by handing myself in, I would be able to get the information I was needing. I figured they would have some form of intel on you I could use.” You huffed irritably as you remembered how foolish you’d been. “Turns out they were a lot smarter than I gave them credit for and they sussed out my plan pretty quickly.”

You winced as Hunter threw his helmet and it crashed against the wall. You expected no less but you needed to reign him back in if you had any chance of recounting the whole story. “That’s not staying calm.”

Hunter got to his feet and paced; his distress evident. “We were on your trail! If I’d been faster and picked our sources more carefully, you wouldn’t have had to-” Hunter seethed. How could he have failed you so badly? You’d put yourself through hell for their sake and if he had gotten to you sooner, you wouldn’t have had to have gone through this.

“Hunter, no.” You shook your head to stop him from putting the blame on himself. “The whole reason I did it was because the trail was running cold, and I was desperate. It was all on me. and I’m not done explaining this yet and it doesn’t get better, but you can’t do this. I understand and appreciate where it comes from, but it won’t help now, okay? Just let me finish it.”

Hunter clenched his jaw but did as you asked. He sat back down and nodded at you to continue but he was helpless to stop the anxious shaking of his leg.

You gritted your teeth as you prepared yourself for what you had to do next and any levity that you’d previously been forcing into your voice vanished. “Since they knew what I was and some of the general history between all of us, it’s like I said, they were aware of what I wanted, and they definitely weren’t up for giving it to me. They finally had me under their control, and they were very good at making sure I wasn’t getting away any time soon. Honestly, they were pretty creative with their methods and I’m sure some of them found doing what they did to me quite therapeutic.” That dismissive attitude slipped back in at the end without you meaning to. Frankly, you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for the sharp and worried looks from Wrecker and Hunter. You mentally checked yourself before you proceeded.

“Where they showed their inexperience however was when they got frustrated at how little I gave them. I don’t think they realised how hard it would be to crack someone like me. Their fists, their whips, their electrostaffs… it all hurt but it wouldn’t get me to talk. So, they went for something different, and that was what got them quite close.” You stopped again and found yourself touching the small pinprick scar as you remembered the sharp sting and then the complete haziness that would follow that would render your completely susceptible to anything they would do and say. “Whatever concoction they’d inject into my neck when they got bored or too tired from physically hurting me was nearly impossible for me to resist and that was a terrifying experience... I was having to fight my own mind while they happily watched on. That interrogator droid would enter, and- and my body would go cold with fear every time.” You paused for a chance to gather yourself and squeezed your eyes tight to rid yourself of the memories of that dark, cramped room they would take you where you were helpless to their cruelty and the last thing you would clearly recall would be the whirring of that droid approaching you.

You took another breath before you continued to speak. “That was what came close to breaking me and they worked that out. Every day they would inject me with that serum to make me submit to their words and they would tell me you were right outside. They- they would tell me that I would see- see you all again if I only told them how much I knew about Omega and where I was hiding…. And every day I would have to remind myself that it was all a lie… that you weren’t there, and I couldn’t reveal anything since that would put Lyra in danger too.” You released a shaky breath. “Or they’d try to convince me that you were going through the same thing I was and- and it was my fault and to get- to get it to stop I would have to tell them everything.” You felt a lump form in the back of your throat, but you forced yourself to talk through it. “They could beat me all they wanted but that was the thing that actually left a mark… these scars merely came with the territory.”

A troubled silence fell upon the walls of the Marauder as you finished. You picked at some imaginary lint on your leggings as a way to bring your emotions under control.

Hunter felt sick to his stomach. He could’ve saved you or made it so putting yourself in that position would never have needed to seem like a viable option. You’d needed him and he hadn’t been there. He’d let you down.

You caught a glimpse of his expression changing from anger to defeated sadness and he didn’t need to vocalise those thoughts; you were perfectly aware of what would be going through his head. “It’s okay.” You mouthed silently to him.

You shouldn’t be the one comforting him. A broken and anguished sigh left his throat. Okay? How was any of this okay? You’d subjected yourself to torture for them and had carried the burden of it by yourself for so long.

“How’d you get away?” Wrecker asked in quiet upset as he imagined you experiencing that.

You coughed and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Truth be told, it gets a bit blurry near the end. I…” You trailed off and frowned as you worked on accurately recalling what had gone down the day you got out. You hesitantly started your explanation again. “I remember overhearing that they were going to send me off world to a high security prison and I couldn’t have that. The trooper who put the cuffs on me to take me back to my cell was a rookie, I think he figured I was unconscious, so he used the regular ones that didn’t restrict my Force-wielding abilities. Then the dizziness and blackouts set in, I remember finding the strength to take him out, but I don’t exactly know how I proceeded from there. The next thing I do remember was collapsing outside the door to where we were living and Lyra dragging me inside.”

“Hunter?” You looked to him since he hadn’t said anything yet.

Hunter’s throat had gone so dry, he couldn’t summon words immediately. All that was racking through his head was how he could’ve prevented this and how he should’ve been there to save you. You never should’ve been the one to drag yourself out of that hellhole. The protective part of him wanted to find a way for you to come up with any identifying features that could assist in hunting down those who’d inflicted that pain on you but despite all you’d relayed to them, he was calmer now and he knew that wasn’t what you wanted. He may have failed you then, but he wouldn’t now. His focus now lay in what he could do for you now but there was an element to the explanation he was missing and once he had that, everything else could fall into place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He murmured instead.

There was no accusation in his eyes, no pointedness or blame in his tone. You knew he just wanted to understand, and it was a fair question. “I was working on compartmentalising it; it was just going badly. And-” You stopped yourself from continuing and instead just started to back away. “Nothing.”

“And what?” Hunter pressed as he got to his feet and caught your hand before you could step away any further.

You shook your head. “It’s a stupid reason, I shouldn’t care about it.”

“Nothing you’re feeling about this is stupid. I might be able to help, you only need to tell me.” Hunter prompted tenderly as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

You regarded him carefully, attempting to find some deception or falseness in his tone so you didn’t have to say it but, unsurprisingly, you didn’t find any. You bit your lip before speaking, “I didn’t want you to have to see them. They’re- they’re not exactly nice to look at.” You muttered as you dipped your head to stare at the floor.

The fact that that was even cause for concern felt like a punch to the gut but at least there was something he could do about it. He may not be able to go after the Imperials like he wanted but he could help you realise that was a non-issue for him and one that hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Wrecker, take a walk. I’ll be in touch when you can come back.” Hunter ordered his brother.

Wrecker wasn’t about to question him, so he did as he said. He rested a gentle hand on your shoulder in comfort. “Thank you for telling us.” He said before he left the ship.

You went to address Hunter, but he spoke first.

“Turn around.”

Your brow furrowed but you couldn’t deny the warmth that bloomed in your stomach at his words. “What?”

“Turn around.” Hunter repeated, his tone quiet but filled with dominance.

Despite your lingering questions as to what exactly it was that he wanted, you found yourself doing as he instructed. You could feel the heat in your stomach start to radiate throughout the rest of his body. Each steady thump of armour hitting the ground had goosebumps rising on your skin in anticipation and you felt him crowd your back and rest his chin in the space between your neck and shoulder.

Hunter kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear and as he felt you relax into him; he slowly grabbed the hem of your long-sleeved layer and lifted it over your head and dropped it to the floor of the ship. He didn’t let his eyes fall to the scars yet. Instead, he caressed the trail of goosebumps on your arms and continued to pay close attention to your neck, softy nibbling the areas that he knew would make you weak at the knees.

He could play your body so well; it was like the two of you hadn’t been parted for as long as you had been. You could feel yourself growing more and more compliant to his touch and desire coursed through your body. You only snapped out of it when you felt his touch go lower and he tugged the bottom of your vest top. You went stiff and immediately grabbed his hands in a panic. “Hunter, no. You-”

“Easy.” He soothed as he pressed delicate, featherlight kisses to the back and each side of your neck. “Trust me.” He rasped against your skin, but he waited for your signal.

You released a low, unsteady breath. You couldn’t live in this state of fear and shame forever. You trusted him with everything you had and that was why you felt yourself letting go of his wrists. Your breathing grew uneven, and your body trembled as you felt his bare hands graze underneath your vest top before, they held onto the hem of it.

“Relax… it’s okay. You’re okay now. Let me see.” He encouraged gently, only lifting when he saw you nod your permission.

His gaze finally dipped to your bare back, and he had to fight to keep his breathing calm as he felt his heart shatter once he saw the full extent of what had been done to you. Your back was a map of merciless and vicious scars, and he wanted nothing more to take away the pain they’d caused you and inflict it on his own body. But that was the only effect they had. He was not repulsed, not repelled by the sight of them. They did nothing to ruin his physical perception of you. You were every bit as beautiful to him now as you had been when he first met you on Devaron all that time ago. “You’re exquisite.”

You refused to believe that. These were different to the scars you were both used to that came with the impact of battle and you were under no illusions as to how unsightly they were. You went to turn to face him so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at them and to protest his words, but he sensed that and beat you to it.

“These do not define you. They do not define my view of you. You are strong, you are capable, and you are a force to be reckoned with and that is why I love you.” He started to lightly touch each one. “No amount of scarring is going to change that. You. Are. Beautiful. I will be there to remind you of that whenever you need it.” He pressed his mouth to the space between your shoulder blades.

Your body trembled under his touch and his sincerity threatened to overwhelm you. “Hunter-” You managed to choke out.

“I would tear the galaxy apart for you, if you wanted me to.” He hummed against your skin as he continued to trail his lips down your back, worshipping every mark that had been left on you so as to leave a new association with them now. “But I know that’s not what you need.”

A quivering breath left your lungs at his words and ministrations, and you knew you felt the same way. But it was because the two of you were aware of that line that your relationship worked so well- you could balance the sentiment with intent. You could feel him starting to make his way back up your back.

“So, what is it that you need?” He hummed into your ear before he placed his hands on your waist and sucked a mark over the tiny scar that rested on your pulse point.

You groaned and braced your hands on the wall that formed the entryway to the cockpit as you felt your knees buckle.

“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me and it’s yours.” He asked again as his fingers started to dip beneath the waistband of your leggings whilst he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

You knew exactly what it was, it was all you ever really needed. “You.” You gasped and you swore you felt him smile against your skin.

“You have me… always.”

You couldn’t hold out any longer, you turned around and crushed your lips against his with a groan and pushed him to the wall of the entrance to the cockpit. If he was taken aback by your abruptness, he didn’t show it as he matched your enthusiasm immediately, one hand coming to firmly grip your exposed waist whilst the other tangled itself in your damp hair, a desperate and eager noise leaving him as he got to feel your body press against his.

As you kissed him, your hands fisted his shirt and you pulled insistently but made no moves to actually step away to remove it, you were too addicted to the feeling of having him this way again… yet you needed to feel his skin against yours which is why you were thankful that he had enough willpower to separate himself from you and take it off himself.

The two of you breathed heavily and the air was thick with tension, but you were too focused on looking at what rested just past his collarbone. You hadn’t allowed yourself to check if he had held onto it for fear of what it could mean if it was gone, and your breath hitched. You touched the black leather cord and traced the small Jedi Order symbol on the end. “You- you kept it?”

“Of course, I did.” He softly uttered, if a little out of breath. He cradled your face in his palms. “What do I have to do to make you see what I see in you?”

Any answer died on your lips, and he passionately reconnected his mouth to yours, using your surprised gasp to deepen the kiss before he stepped away from the wall and started to direct you both down the narrow hallway to your bunk, muscle memory mapping the way as neither of you were content to separate to make the walk any easier.

A trail of clothes was left in your wake as you made your way to your bunk.

Hunter gently laid you down, his lips never parting yours before he patted your hip to get you to be on your front.

You still found yourself feeling reluctant. His beautiful brown eyes were laden with lust but there was also a deep and devoted sense of care behind them which was why you complied with his request. You trusted him.

Hunter went back to what he’d done earlier as he left delicate kisses to every scar that donned your back. What you endured was something no one should ever have to but what he could do now was make sure you knew that you didn’t need to hide them for the sake of other people- especially him- any longer. “You never have to worry about these. All that matters to me is that you’re here now, you got away, and you will never end up back there. More scars don’t have the power to change how I feel about you, nothing does. I love you for all that you are.” He planted a kiss to the base of your spine before he got you on your back to face him.

Hunter wiped away the salty tears that had escaped your eyes and nudged the side of your nose with his. “I love you. Always.”

“Always.” You repeated hoarsely as you were overwhelmed by the emotions that came crashing to the surface. You stroked back the smaller bits of hair that frequently slipped past his bandanna.

Hunter kissed your cheek before leaving a trial of kisses along your jawline whilst his hand slowly made its way down your body to rest between your thighs.

Your legs parted for him on instinct and your hips bucked into his touch and a soft moan left your throat.

His voice took on a low purr as he moved his fingers. “Here’s how this is going to work: I am going to tell you everything that I love about you which you are then going to repeat and… if you don’t…” He stopped and took his hand away as he saw that familiar expression on your face, and he couldn’t help the slight smirk that tugged the edges of his mouth as that expression turned into an affronted pout. “I stop.”

Your eyes widened at the very clear implications of what he had in store for you.

“Or this doesn’t have to go any further and we stop now.” He offered sincerely.

No, you didn’t want that. It had been too long, and you needed him like your lungs needed oxygen. You could do this. You nodded your consent.

Hunter angled his head to press his lips against yours before he started to move his fingers again, hungrily swallowing your appreciative gasp. He kissed you passionately, not in any rush to stop right now. He parted from you and took a second to appreciate the throaty sighs that left your mouth at his actions, the way you bit your lip and the slight wrinkle on your brow as you grew closer to your release. He’d missed being able to see you like this, but he was relishing the opportunity to relearn and do all the things that made your body contort in pleasure. “You’re beautiful.” He exhaled in complete awe.

You were so caught up in the pleasure radiating throughout your body that you had already forgotten his plan and you were too put out by the feeling of your climax fading away to recall where your side of the bargain came into it. “Hey-” You cut yourself off as you saw the expectant expression on his face and then you remembered what you had to do to get what you craved but that doubt was still there, and you felt awkward doing it. However, the reassurance and trust that also rested on his face saw to it that you did as he said. “I- I’m beautiful.”

Hunter bowed his head with a supportive smile before he carried on, the sound of your groan was like music to his ears. “Despite all that’s happened… all that we still have to do… you always find a way to make me smile.”

You were in a state of total euphoria and therefore failed to fully comprehend that he’d said something else. It was only when you felt him pull his hand away and the emptiness that followed that brought you back to the current situation. With a whine, you spoke again, “I- make- make you s- smile.” You ground out as you moved your hips in tandem with his touch as you chased your high.

He let you have your first climax, pausing to let you come down from it. Once your breathing evened out, he went again and kissed you before muttering against your lips, “You’re smart.”

“I’m- fuck.” You were too distracted by seeking the next release you were longing for to remember to respond, and you cried out in irritation as he stopped just before you reached it.

“Almost.” He crooned into your ear.

As frustrated as you were, you got your bearings and whispered, “I’m smart.”

“Good girl.” He praised, a grin on his face as your breath stuttered at his words, before he continued, curling his fingers in the way he knew would send you over the edge and sure enough, your hips lifted as your release crashed over you and a gratified moan sounded from you. However, he didn’t stop, he worked you through it and said, “You’re caring.”

The process got easier and began to feel more natural. You slowly started to understand that clinging on to that part of your past had made it impossible to fully come back. Keeping yourself hidden and refusing to acknowledge what you’d experienced had made it difficult to fathom that he could still want you this way but each affirmation from his, as silly as you’d initially felt at doing what he said, was helping cement the idea that you may not be able to change or fix what you’d gone through, but it didn’t have to control you anymore. You had a partner and family that loved you and who you adored and would do anything for. You would get through this and now you were beginning to feel like you could do it. You felt yourself believing what he was telling you. A whimper left your throat, and you could already sense that you were hurtling towards the edge again, but you repeated it. “I’m c- caring.” You said through panted breaths as you coped with the overstimulation.

“You’re doing so well.” He encouraged as he kept to his word and continued to touch you. “You’re strong.” He knew he was repeating himself, but they weren’t words he minded reiterating, and he needed you to know and believe it too.

“I’m strong.” You said breathlessly as your hands curled into the blanket beneath you as that feeling overcame you again.

He saw you through your next peak and took his hand away to give you a rest from the stimulation and simply stared at you and the blissed out look on your face. He had it committed to memory, but it never ceased to take his breath away every time.

You gathered yourself enough to smile at him. “Thank you.” You whispered as you lightly followed the shape of his tattoo. You clasped the back of his neck and attempted to pull him towards you, but he worked his way out of your grip and instead kissed the hollow of your throat before kissing his way down the rest of your body. Your head fell back as you realised his intent, but you had thought it would be time for him to take what it was he needed.

He could help the groan that left him as he finally put his mouth on you. He could get drunk off the taste of you, and it had been too fucking long since he’d had the chance to do so, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

You couldn’t help the way your hands tangled in his hair and tugged him closer to you, his appreciative growl sent shivers down your spine, but you were so sensitive, and you didn’t think you could manage another one. “Hunter, I can’t. Just-”

“One more. I know you can.” He encouraged desperately as he planted a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking a bruise into the skin, before he went back to where his attention was demanded. He needed you to fall apart on his tongue, he was addicted to it, every drop of you, every whimper that sounded from you was like his own personal drug and he would never tire of it. “You’ve been such a good girl… done everything I’ve asked for… just give me one more, sweetheart.”

That did it. Your back arched and you finished with a ruined and exhausted moan. You were completely spent but it felt so good. You barely registered him to come rest beside you, his lips pressed against your temple.

“I know that wasn’t easy, but I’m so proud of you.” Hunter murmured into your hairline as he stroked up and down your side.

You regained enough feeling in your limbs to turn on your side “What about you?” You queried, still struggling to catch your breath. You knew you would be sensitive but your overwhelming longing for him swiftly outweighed any concerns.

Hunter slowly shook his head as he brushed his lips against yours, taking them away when you went to deepen the kiss. “This was always about you.”

With each passing moment, you were gaining more clarity over your faculties, and you knew what you had to do. A seductive smile pulled at the corners of your mouth and your hand snaked down between you both.

“What-” Hunter inhaled sharply as he felt your hand wrap around him, and his jaw clenched as he fought the urge to thrust his hips into your touch. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to-”

“You said this was about me and what I need, right?” You hummed as you rested your forehead against his whilst your hand kept moving. You kept your touch teasing but just enough to drive him crazy.

“R-right.” Hunter said through a strained breath as he felt his restraint leaving him with every second you continued to touch him.

“And what I need is to feel you…” You brought your lips close to his, barely any space between you now. “Inside me.” You kissed him, tugging his lip between your teeth whilst your free hand entangled itself in his hair, the actions eliciting the depraved groan you had been looking for, and before you knew it, you were back on your back again with Hunter kissing you with a newfound fervour which you matched in kind. You wrapped your legs around him and drew him closer to you, smiling against his lips at the surprised huff that escaped him.

Hunter kept kissing you as he started to guide himself into you. He knew you would still feel tender and was careful as he slowly moved into you, both of your breaths catching at the feeling. His head fell to rest in the crook of your neck, biting down on the skin there before he soothed the sting of it with his tongue as he started to move, heavy grunts and pants leaving his lips as he got absorbed in feeling you this way after all this time.

Your nails dug into his back, and you could feel the muscles flex beneath your fingers and a sensual sigh left your lungs as you finally felt all of him.

One thought crossed your mind amidst the fog of pleasure that was spreading over your body. You’d let go of your fear now and you wanted to look for that connection again. Before, it had marked a level of certainty of your place here and overall mindset and if you couldn’t find it after all that had happened, there was a time where you would’ve been sure that it would mean there was no true way back for you. But now you understood that wasn’t and didn’t have to be the case. If it wasn’t there, you could work to get it back.

You used the Force around you to find his unique signature again and you could’ve wept with joy as you sensed it once more and it welcomed you with open arms. It had been waiting for you. You bridged the gap between you and allowed that feeling to flow through you. I love you.

Hunter paused his movements, and he stared down at you, a shocked but delighted cry left his mouth as he saw the broad and affirming smile on your face that told him he hadn’t imagined it. He’d wanted to have that back for so long and his heart soared as he realised what this meant for you. You weren’t holding back anymore; you were officially home.

You stroked a thumb along his cheekbone before clenched around him in an attempt to get him to keep going, a smug hum of laughter leaving you at the almost pained expression on his face as he got himself back under control before he started again.

“Do it again. Please.” Hunter requested frantically as he felt himself approaching his own release.

You smiled affectionately at him and continued to kiss him as you saw him through to his climax. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He finished with a strangled groan, and he collapsed on top of you. He stayed there for a few moments before he gently pulled out of you, stroking your hair as he saw you slightly wince at the action. “I’m sorry if it was too much.”

You shook your head. “It was perfect. You were perfect.” You reassured him as he laid down beside you and held you close to him. We should clean up.

Hunter made a sound of acknowledgement as he pressed his mouth to the crown of your head. “What made you do that again?”

“I let go.” You said simply before planting a chaste kiss to his lips before taking his hands in yours and guiding him to the refresher. “Come on.”

“What are you thinking?” Hunter asked as he watched you pick up the wrapped lightsaber from the shelf Wrecker had put it on. You hadn’t touched it since taking it from the bounty hunter.

“I can’t hold on to or fear the past anymore. We can only look to the future now and that future has us getting Omega back. And…” You uncovered the seemingly harmless looking weapon. “I think this will make achieving that easier.” You reached for it, hesitating for just a moment before you picked it up and it was an instant reaction. You took half a step back as the sensation of feeling that connection you hadn’t encountered for years threatened to overwhelm you. Flashes of your past as a youngling and echoes of previous battles and instructions from your master sounded in your head but it wasn’t scary this time, you were merely remembering the periods where this weapon had been your life.

Hunter placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “You alright?”

You took one long breath. “Yeah. It’ll just take come getting used to, but it’s going to be worth it. I’m not hiding what I am these days, may as well have the whole image.” You said light-heartedly.

Hunter cupped your jaw and kissed you gently, both of you sighing contentedly into the sensation before Wrecker’s hesitant voice echoed through the comms.

“Um, Hunter… I hope I’m not interrupting eh anything now but um I was wondering if I could come back? I’ve started to wander in circles and I’m getting some suspicious looks.”

The two of you chuckled.

“Poor guy.” You said with a humorous shake of your head.

“Yeah, Wrecker, head on back and we can get outta here.” Hunter replied through his comm.

“Wrecker, how’d you fancy having an excuse to shoot at me?” You said into your comm, and the intrigued but excited cheer told you your answer.

“Shoot you?” Hunter repeated, titling his head at you inquisitively.

You grinned as you clipped your lightsaber to your waist. “Yeah, how else did you think I was going to train?”

“That’s 15 to 11!” Wrecker whooped as you came to after his stun blast hit your back.

Fuck you. You jabbed playfully as you accepted Hunter’s outstretched hand. He tugged you to your feet.

“You’re lasting longer.” Hunter commented supportively and- knowing you would want to go immediately again- walked away to take up his position.

You wiped the dirt from your clothing and removed your mask to take some deep breaths and find your centre again. Taking on jobs, following leads, mediating and lightsaber training… that was how you balanced your time; you were feeling more like the person you had been before your world had been torn apart. You’d never be able to be her again, but you could own who you are now and allow yourself to feel the emotions you’d been struggling against without suffocating in them anymore.

“But still not long enough!” Wrecker goaded. “I’ll always be in the lead!”

You didn’t take the bait. Instead, you took off your armour, gloves, and long-sleeved top.

“Hey, wait a minute, that’s not fair.” Wrecker protested.

Hunter turned inquisitively and his breath hitched. A soft sheen of sweat graced your skin and your body rippled with strength and untapped potential… and fuck did it make his heart skip a beat and his blood run hot. He was grateful his helmet was still on because the way his eyes widened would’ve given you too much material to work with right now, but he wasn’t able to hide the way his hand slightly fumbled as he unholstered his blaster. He wasn’t embarrassed by finding you attractive in this way, the frequent teasing he’d often received for it just made it harder to focus on the task at hand.

“The training stays the same and my strategy is my own. It’s not supposed to have an effect on you anyway.” You retorted with a smug grin as Hunter’s reaction went exactly as you’d anticipated.

“You better not mess this up for us, Hunter.” Wrecker warned as he shoved his brother’s shoulder to snap him out his reverie.

You laughed to yourself as you watched them. You picked up your lightsaber and ignited it, the blue blade thrumming at your side, and you felt that rush of connection and security. Having a blaster by your side was nothing compared to this.

It was a powerful sight that Hunter never got used to and quite frankly, part of him was relieved he’d never come across you as an official Jedi General during the war because if his reaction to seeing you train and work towards unlocking whatever you had been tampering down for so many years was anything to by, he would’ve gotten himself shot a long time ago- half your earlier victories came from redirecting his own stun blasts to him.

You got into your stance and faced the two clones as they readied their blasters. “Alright, let’s go again.”

<Previous Oneshot

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staycalmandhugaclone · 11 months ago

Text

Identity Pt 6 (Extra Scene)

Part (6) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

There are two people in particular to blame for this chapter. You know who are are, and I love you for it.

Warnings: Big emotions in this - rage, guilt, blame, and the like. There do be a bit of fighting, but it's not gory. Brief description of water torture. Profanity

WC: 2,032

No one moved, breath nearly trapped in their chests as they watched the pair steadily make their way out of the hanger. Crosshair noted the stiffness in her movements, the slight hitch in her step, and his teeth ground at the certainty that her shoulder was only a small part of what she’d suffered.

“What the kriff did you do?!” He snarled at the group of regs still staring toward the now empty hallway. He’d half-expected Hunter or Echo to growl some half-hearted warning for him to back down, but they seemed just as eager for answers as he was, and the unspoken permission that granted him, the justification in loosing his rage on the remaining members of the 104th left him near shaking, face twisted with the full display of his fury.

“We followed our orders; just like she did… Things just… got complicated.” The one with the double oval on his forehead replied, and the dejection in his voice only worsened Crosshair’s anger.

“The hell does that mean?” His voice ground between gritted teeth, body innately taking a half-step forward.

“It means there were unforeseen circumstances that caused problems, and that you lot aren’t cleared to know anything more.” The clone bearing a wolf-head emblem said, not shying from the very real threat in the sniper’s posture as he tread forward to place himself pointedly between his men and the enraged squad before him.

“I don’t give a Sith’s tit about your mission. The kriff happened to her, and why didn’t any of you stop it?!” He spat, shoulders pulling back as he towered over the Sergent.

“No time.” Another reg replied gruffly from behind the telltale helm of a pilot. “When everythin’ went down, we were all too far away to do anything, an’ they had her whisked off to the other side of planet before we could reach her.”

“She was alone?!” Echo nearly shouted from behind him. Crosshair didn’t question Hunter’s silence thus far, assured that his brother was listening, calculating; that he could smell the cocktail of adrenaline filling each of them and was comparing their heart rates, their body language, the tension in their every taut muscle to figure out just how far they could be pushed before snapping, how much information they might glean from tongues loosened by shame and guilt.

“There wasn’t supposed to be any combat where she was.” The last one sighed, his head dropping toward his chest.

“Can’t help but notice not one of you has a damn scratch, so how’d she end up like that in a non-combat zone with you lot still looking like damn shinies?!” Cross shot back, disdain dripping from every word.

“That’s enough!” The pilot barked, moving stiffly forward to stand beside his brother. “Think you’re something special? That you’re all high and mighty just ‘cause you’ve got some damn crush? Well, how ‘bout we compare how many times she’s been hurt working with you than with us?!”

He nearly ignored the subtle shift of Hunter’s hand signaling him to back off, but caught himself mere heartbeats before throwing himself forward, fists clenched hard enough to shake.

“If you’re referring to combat ops, given the general nature of your missions, which tend toward community outreach and long-distance support, in addition to the fact that her most grievous injuries were caused directly by your commander’s intentional actions, statistically speaking, that comparison wouldn’t do much to support your argument.” The subtle note of annoyance in Tech’s retort was just enough to draw a huff of something too dark to be likened to laughter from Crosshair.

“Still haven’t given a reason why she was alone.” Wrecker’s voice was quiet, and that alone left Crosshair leaning slightly to the side lest he find himself between them should the massive clone decide he was done listening. “She’s a medic – can’t really do that if she’s not with you.”

“She wasn’t there as a medic.” The first reg explained wearily.

“Then why was she there? Why pull her from our unit at all?” Hunter asked, carefully masking his own anger with a feigned gentleness.

“Comet.” The Sergent called, helm shifting to stare pointedly at his brother. The silence that followed that warning only sought to fuel Crosshair’s ire while worsening the 104th’s collective remorse.

“We needed someone who could blend in with the Separatists.”

“Boost!”

The man who’d spoken drew a sharp breath at the reprimand in his brother’s tone, head snapping up to stare him down as he wrenched his helmet free.

“No! Dammit, Sinker, they should know what happened! You think needing to keep it a secret is going to do her any good?! Hell, that one’s clearly read plenty of our old mission briefs already!” Boost roared, hand snapping toward Tech. “Why the hell wouldn’t he read this one? The only difference between us telling them now and him reading about it later is how much time they’ll have to get their shebs ready to help her when she’s back.”

Despite his lingering urge to lash out, Crosshair found himself both quieted and unnerved anew at the man’s words, torn between wanting to berate them for their carelessness and appreciating Boost’s argument.

“I know…” Sinker replied, voice nearly breaking beneath the weight of remorse threatening to overwhelm him, “but that’s not our call to make.” Comet and the other one, the pilot, had both turned their attention from Crosshair and their brothers, as though waiting to see who’d cede first that they might be granted permission to speak freely.

“Then you go right ahead and report me, Sergent.” Boost spat.

“Our contact chose the location.” Sinker’s shoulders fell at Comet’s quiet whisper, but he offered no further dispute. “It was a gathering for high-ranking Separatists. The plan was her to get in, get a datachip, and monitor security while we broke into the gala’s database to get more info… get a little something extra for the effort. Apparently, our contact had ulterior motives, too. He planted a bomb. She got caught in the blast, and then she was blamed for it.”

Air hissed through Crosshair’s teeth; dread twisted through his chest at the knowledge of what a Separatist interrogation entailed.

“We got to her as quick as we could.” The pilot continued, arms crossing over his chest at the guilt clearly sown through his own words. “Beat up some guards, tracked all the outbound ships… finally had to hunt down the damn contact himself to figure out where they took her.” He didn’t need to look back to know his brothers stood as stiff as he did, waiting for that final blow of what exactly had happened.

“They had her for about eight hours.” Resigned, Sinker finally turned back to face him, movements weary as he also reached up to remove his helmet, and Cross couldn’t help but be slightly surprised to find that the man shared his silver hair color, a fact that instantly annoyed him further, but he held his tongue as he waited for the reg to continue. “We know she was unconscious most of that time, but when she woke up…”

“Enough with all the kriffin’ stalling. Just tell us wha’ happened.” Wrecker growled impatiently.

“She was drowned.” Comet stated bluntly, and Crosshair’s blood went cold. “They drowned her, brought her back, and waterboarded her trying to find out who was behind the explosion.”

He could feel his heart racing, felt his breath quicken, every thought screaming at him to fight, to forgo all fear of reprimand or consequence for the relief of even a moment’s outburst, because that was something he knew. He knew how to deal with the pain of raw knuckles and split lips. He knew the taste of disappointment his brothers would harbor in the aftermath of his rashness. He knew the sting of defeat and the empty pride of victory, and, in that moment, held no preference for either. He merely needed the distraction; that familiarity, because the ache in his chest, the way it threatened to cripple him and rend him into a frenzy too overcome with grief and guilt to think straight was something he didn’t know how to deal with, and that terrified him.

“I assume she’s been given appropriate treatment to prevent lung infections?” The emptiness in Tech’s voice robbed Crosshair of that lingering rage to which he’d been clinging, leaving him cold and void of the will to drag himself back to the forefront of a confrontation that no longer promised anything of the respite he’d longed for.

“Yeah.” Boost answered quietly. “She also has a burn on her calf… wrists and ankles got torn up from fighting the restraints… pretty sure that’s how she dislocated her shoulder, too. We got it all cleaned and bandaged, but… just keep an eye on it.” There. That last comment was all it took to rekindle his anger, and he grasped it like the fleeting lifeline it was.

“Think it’s pretty clear we don’t need your advice on how to keep her safe.” He drawled, head tilting just enough to portray the depth of his contempt.

“That’s it.” The pilot growled, throwing himself forward without further thought or warning. In that split second before they collided, Crosshair felt the very edge of his lips twitch up into a broken smile born of relief and ruined by a guilt he’d deal with later.

In an instant, everyone was shouting, and he thrived in that moment of chaos as the man’s fist crashed into his jaw. Already, several hands were grabbing for him, straining to wrench him back, but not before he landed his own strike, knee plowing into his stomach with enough force to wrench the air from his lungs despite the plates of heavy armor. Crosshair just managed a final punch to his assailant’s head before Wrecker forced himself between them, iron grip locked around the reg’s shoulder in a threat even the haughty pilot couldn’t feign ignorance to.

In the brief fray, he’d failed to notice the split second of distraction tear Hunter’s attention away from them, but he instantly froze as his brother hauled him near enough to whisper harshly into his ear.

“Cody commed me. It’s Doc.” Already, Hunter was pulling away from him, torn between ending the fight and answering the summons. “Don’t make things worse.” He added with a snarl forced into barely audible growl. Expression faltering into horrified dread, Cross merely nodded. Hunter didn’t hesitate before turning and dashing from the hanger, and then all Crosshair could hear was the heaviness of his own breathing, the way his heart pounded in chest beneath that rush of emotions resurging mercilessly in the wake of his vain attempt to escape them.

He glanced back to find his brothers studying him carefully, confusion clear in their eyes as they waited for some explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, not when the other squad stood watching him with that same attentiveness. Without a word, he merely nodded toward the hallway leading to their temporary bunkroom, sparing not so much as a glare back to the men he still sought to blame for all of this; for calling her away, for letting her get hurt, for reminding him just how easily he might lose her because of this Force-forsaken war.

He didn’t listen to the hushed voices of the 104th as he began walking away; barely let himself note the sets of footsteps voicing his own squad belatedly falling in line behind him. He couldn’t think beyond the fruitless need to know why Cody had called Hunter, what had happened in the debrief; mind demanding he find some means to force his way into that kriffing office in his brother’s stead, and his rage grew at the knowledge that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. All his training as a sniper, years of drilling the importance of patience into him, of forming that patience into a weapon honed to perfection; it was all useless against this, and he couldn’t keep himself from slamming his fist into the wall in a final fit of frustration as they neared the still foreign barracks.

Next Chapter

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tanobatcher · 3 days ago

Text

snowfall

hevy x bartender fem reader

summary: you and hevy have been seeing each other, temporarily putting your relationship on pause when he passes his cadet training and gets sent to rishi outpost for his first assignment. after waiting on his promised return for months, you receive the news you had been dreading.

warnings: profanity, angst, major character death, and suggestive content

this was originally a shortfic on ao3 but it made me sad so i never finished it but i was suddenly overcome with a change of heart and some new ideas. my first tumblr post ever lol so pls be kind.

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Winter is the season of death. A martyr of sacrifice. Although Coruscant manipulates its weather all year round through an artificially engineered system that controls the city’s cycle of life, its citizens experience the cold just as naturally as they will anywhere else. They don’t have to worry about slipping on icy streets or shoveling snow outside of their apartments, though. These few months of frigid temperatures cause minimal damage, only intended to maintain balance across nature’s scale. And yet, this winter is particularly dull for you. Springtime can’t seem to come any sooner, but that isn’t what you are waiting for. It isn’t a new beginning that occupies your mind as time passes like a dragging blur—it is someone from your past who you aren’t sure will remain in your present. Or, even, your future.

“No word from him yet?”

Glancing up, you look at your manager from across the bar top and shake your head. He shrugs in response, clicking his tongue with a lack of sympathy that doesn’t surprise you. Despite running a clone bar in the heart of the city, he isn’t one to attach himself to anyone. Perhaps you can learn from that.

“I told you not to get involved with any customers,” he scolds disapprovingly, “This is war, darlin’. More often than not, these clones don’t come home. That’s why they make a fuck ton of them—”

“He’ll be back,” you interrupt firmly.

Your manager rolls his eyes and saunters away, but not before getting the last word in. “The sooner you’re available again, the better. I can’t deal with any more jealous boyfriend shit when you have a job to do.”

Rather than say anything in defense of your hopeless relationship, you bite your tongue and turn your head away from this conversation. 79’s is quiet at this hour, hardly bustling with the energy that usually starts picking up after sundown. The lack of distracting noise is the last thing you need, though, because the scrambled thoughts crossing your mind are more torturous than any physical blow you can imagine this war wreaks on its soldiers. One of them is the rookie you started dating during the last few months of his cadet training. What began as casual hookups in the backroom of the bar during your night shifts became a full-fledged, committed label when he caused a scene (supposedly) in your honor. You still remember this like it was yesterday.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked him once you cornered him in the backroom after your manager separated the ridiculous brawl that resulted in broken glasses and turned tables.

“He was all over you,” Hevy retorted while towering over you with a wildly untamed glower in his eyes, “You think I was just going to sit around and let that play out?”

You shook your head in disbelief and ignored every step he was taking to come closer to you. “I work here, Hevy. It’s my job to satisfy my customers.”

“Your customers, huh? You fuck all of them, then?”

The words stung more than they should have, but you held your ground and raised your chin to meet his scowl. He was so close that you could have closed the distance by stepping up on your tip-toes just a little. Instead, though, you stared at his annoyingly arrogant face to assess the damages he retained from the fight. They were impressively minuscule, especially compared to the random brother he saw “all over you” in a cozy booth far away from most of the action. A split lip and a bruised jaw were definitely more favorable than a broken nose.

“That’s none of your business,” you eventually replied even though Hevy was the only trooper you had ever taken things this far with.

He raised his eyebrows and took another step closer, prompting you to move back until he had you against the door you locked for privacy. Maybe that was a good call, seeing where this conversation was going. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you maintained the defiance in your eyes as he leaned in so your lips were brushing over each other. This was more anticipatory than teasing, especially because you knew he would give you what you wanted if you asked nicely.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured in a lethally soft tone that didn’t change the fact that he was such a hotheaded nightmare you couldn’t stop dreaming about.

“Why? It’s true…people come here for one thing,” you said without meaning to sound bitter about it, “You wanna know what that is? It’s escape. And my job is to make sure I show everyone a good time, or else, I’ll lose it.”

Sliding a hand across your jaw to grip the back of your neck, Hevy shook his head and replied, “You’re wrong. I come here for you.”

Your insides curled and coalesced with a heat that you pushed away to focus on the matter at hand. “No, stop. I thought we weren’t going to do any of that.”

“Any of what?”

“You know…acting sweet and stuff.”

“You decided that,” he reminded you, squeezing your neck gently, “I didn’t.”

“We’re not together,” you whispered while snaking your hands around his waist to pull him closer until he was completely pressed against you, “You can’t just act like a jealous boyfriend every time someone’s a little friendly with me.”

He dipped his head and nudged your nose with his. “But I wanna be your jealous boyfriend.”

The confession made your eyes go wide before they fluttered shut as soon as he closed the distance between your parted lips. Forgetting all about your previous irritation with him, you kissed him back and didn’t protest when he lifted you up by the back of your thighs for a better angle. It wasn’t the first time you had been in this kind of situation with him, but his embrace felt different as he squeezed your ass and ravished your mouth with an angry intensity that his fist fight didn’t rectify. The words etched in every kiss exchanged were loud and clear even though they weren’t spoken aloud: You were his. It didn’t matter if you had a job to do or not—at least, it didn’t matter to him. A warm possession consumed both of you as you sank into his hold and whimpered quietly, needing to take a breath.

“I’m not supposed to date our customers,” you told him when he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled before saying, “And stop calling me your customer.”

You licked your lips, tasting some of the blood that had seeped through his wound in the middle of the kiss. He watched you through dark, heavy-lidded eyes and pressed his thumb into your bottom lip, swiping it back and forth so slowly that you felt deprived of something he hadn’t even started.

“You hear me?” He continued when you stayed silent, “Or is that a no?”

“Hevy, it’s complicated—”

“It’s not complicated. Do you want me or not?”

“I do…I like you,” you admitted despite your racing heart, “But there’s so many reasons why we shouldn’t go further.”

“Bullshit. Name one,” he challenged you with a determined glare, “And your stupid ass manager doesn’t count. He can go fuck himself.”

Pursing your lips, you hoped said manager didn’t hear any of this. Exhaling softly, you said, “It’s also just that you’re a soldier, and…you know.”

His stare hardened as he tightened his hands around your body. “You worried about me?”

“I mean,” you sighed and averted your eyes in embarrassment, “I know you’re not done with your training, but soon…what then?”

“Nothing will change for me,” he reassured you, not even thinking about the possibility of death, “I’ll always come back as long as you’re here.”

You wrinkled your nose and pushed at his shoulder a bit with a fist. “Stop being so corny.”

“Why?” He laughed and captured your mouth in a brief kiss, “Is it working on you?”

“No,” you lied against his lips and kissed him deeper while clutching at his back if it meant never having to let go.

He pulled away again, still unsatisfied with the direction of this conversation. Searching your expression, he said, “I’m serious. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want more from you.”

“I thought you just wanted something casual.”

“So what?”

“So, you’re going back on your word?” You pointed out, “That’s not very like you.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind, I guess,” he shrugged, “It happens.”

“Not very often. You’re the most stubborn asshole I’ve ever met.”

“Sure, but you like me. You said it yourself.”

Unable to argue with this, you smiled and circled your arms around his neck. The conversation paused as you both looked at each other in silence and just felt every crevice where your bodies were folded together like a permanent attachment nobody could rip apart. If only that were the case, though. You were still worried that committing to this relationship would eventually hurt you, but there was no denying the direction your heart tugged. Drawing your arms inward again, you cupped his face with both hands and caressed the stubble that covered his unique tattoo. He leaned into your touch with a subtle smirk, staring at you almost pleadingly. Desperately.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed, “But you can’t do whatever you pulled out there ever again.”

“No promises.”

“Hevy, I’m serious—”

He rolled his eyes and cut you off with another kiss that you melted into. Nipping at your bottom lip with a tinge of punishment, he whispered, “So am I. You think this isn’t serious to me? I’ve been trying to find a way to ask you out for ages now.”

“Like…a date?” You questioned as your face heated up with a red blush.

“Yeah, a date. Or…whatever you want,” he said carefully.

“I’d like that,” you murmured.

His rigid posture relaxed a bit with his quiet exhale of relief. Smiling slightly, with the left side of his mouth tipped higher than the right, he kissed your forehead and let his lips linger on your skin for a moment. The gentle sensation sent a cascading wave of butterflies through your chest, only subsiding when the moment did as well. The door rattled against your back, paired with your manager’s aggressive barking that commanded you to get back to work if you were done “fucking that clone in there.” Noticing the familiarly dangerous glare that infiltrated Hevy’s eyes, you smoothed your hands across his chest and said, “It’s okay. Just leave it.”

“He’s fucking awful to you,” Hevy frowned, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed, “But I’d say he’s more awful to you guys. I don’t know why he runs this place when he doesn’t even respect troopers.”

“Money,” was all Hevy answered, his tone laced with disgust.

To him, there was nothing more honorable than the kind of service he and his brothers provided the Republic—the galaxy, for that matter. As a clone, he felt important and empowered. Not degraded, despite common opinion regarding his controversial identity.

“I guess you’re right,” you nodded and kissed him quickly before he set you down on your feet, “I’ll see you out there?”

“Alright,” he watched you turn around and snuck a glance at your ass before asking, “So, it’s a yes, right?”

Laughing, you looked at him over his shoulder while departing. “Yes, asshole.”

He only chuckled in response as you slid through the crowd, the deep sound reverberating through your body. Even as the memory dissipated, you could still hear it in your ear like a taunting reminder of what you feared you lost…

“Hey,” a trooper’s voice interrupts your thoughts and brings you back to the present, “You’re Hevy’s girl, right?”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. Focusing your attention on the source of this question, you realize two troopers are standing in front of you across the bar top. One sports a goatee and the number “5” tattooed near his temple, while the other’s face is completely bare. It’s his armor that harbors some sort of decoration with the dark blue handprint spanning across the white plastoid material.

“Yeah,” you answer nervously, “Can I get you anything?”

The pair exchanges a glance before the one who spoke before—the one with the tattoo—shakes his head to your surprise. A gnawing anticipation chews at your stomach as you perceive the distant heaviness in their eyes, only heightening the fear you hope hadn’t already come true.

“Is he here?” You blurt out, “Hevy, I mean.”

Silence. Your vision begins to blur as tears prick your eyes, already reacting to what hasn’t been said. These troopers don’t need to tell you anything—you already know the reason for their solemn visit. Everything, from the grief in their expressions to the stiffness in their shoulders, reveals the doubt you had but ignored out of your love.

“No,” you shake your head, “It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true.”

“He asked us to tell you—” the trooper with the handprint on his armor said grimly.

“Stop,” you interrupt, swiping your falling tears away with shaky fingers, “He’s not—He’s coming back! He said he would come back—”

“He’s not,” the tattooed trooper interrupted, “He wanted you to know that he’s sorry.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to control the floodgates of your emotions that were now pouring over after waiting so long for an answer. That’s it? He’s sorry? Of course, you know that he probably couldn’t say anything else, but you didn’t even want to think about the circumstances of this awful turn of events. The permanence of his absence hurts more than anything else—it hurts so much that you can’t even breathe. Your chest tightens and constricts from the inside out, crushing your soul with the knowledge that Hevy is gone forever. And there is nothing you can do to change this truth.

“Okay,” you say, your voice strangely level all of a sudden as your entire body goes numb, “Thank you for telling me.”

The troopers who delivered this message look at you sympathetically, to which you can only respond with a forced smile that acknowledges their pain as well. If they knew Hevy, they must be grieving, too. Your mind is blank as you push away from the bar top and sling your thin jacket over your shoulders despite your shift that still needs to be completed. Not caring about that at the moment, you find yourself outside 79’s where a fake flurry of snow immediately meets your tear-streaked face. It feels so cold. You long for a warmer day that will engulf your shaking body and ease your sinking heart with a whisper of what you just lost. Or, what never belonged to you in the first place.

Such is the cost of war, which you knew but chose to defy. And now, you realize the cost of this ignorance. This audacity. This bravery. All of which you can find in him and that smug attitude you miss so dearly. Even though you have been thinking about him for a while, ever since he told you he was leaving for Rishi, you could hold onto the hope that he would return. Not anymore, though. This comfort is now gone, replaced by a void that swallows you whole as you fall to your knees and brace your hands against the frigid ground dotted with more snowflakes than you can count. There are so many that catch in your skin, just like there is an infinite amount of people who can fill this emptiness in your heart. Except, that isn’t true. Your soul is already searching for what is long gone—not what can come to be. Because springtime doesn’t interest you anymore. You wish to stay in this desolate winter if it means remaining close to his memory, as close as you can possibly be. But it’s not close enough. It never will be.

“You know something?” He once asked you as you both lay awake in your bed with your bare skin pressed together.

“Hm?” You replied, sliding into his arms when they beckoned for your embrace.

“I’m gonna be an ARC trooper.”

You laughed at this, knowing he was still a cadet at the time. “You haven’t even finished your basic training.”

“I know,” he dismissed, “That’s besides the point. I’m gonna be the best fuckin’ ARC trooper the Republic’s ever seen. I’m pretty much already there—just needs to be official.”

Smiling up at him in admiration, you kissed him on the cheek and replied, “I believe it.”

“Yeah?” He grinned at you and shifted his body so that you were now under him, “You believe in me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded with a serious expression, “The Republic is lucky to have you.”

“Aw, you flatter me. You’re not just saying this ‘cause you want another round, right?”

Staring up at him, you pretended not to notice how his hand slid between your legs to caress your inner thighs. “Of course, not. I really do think you’ll do a lot of good, Hevy.”

“Another round would be nice, though,” you added in a hushed whisper as you tugged him down for a kiss that he gladly reciprocated with an amused chuckle that warmed your heart.

A sob wracks your body as you realize you will never hear that laugh or feel the pressure of his kiss ever again. You will never humor his dreams that he deserved to achieve but couldn’t because of the heroics he just had to pull on Rishi. That was Hevy, though. A force to be reckoned with, so powerful that you often pause and wonder what kind of fuel ignites his distinctive fire. If anyone could have become an ARC trooper, it would have been him. It would have been him.

When you lift your head and stare up at the cloudy, gray sky, more snow whitens your cheeks with a biting intensity that makes you shiver. It falls on top of you, around you, and everywhere you can imagine. Because that’s what happens when you shoot too close to the stars—you fall. And you can only hope that someone or something catches you before the darkness consumes your being and seals your fate into a lingering whisper that nobody will remember.

#clone x reader #clone troopers #star wars #the clone wars #domino squad #clone trooper hevy #tcw hevy #hevy #angst #sad ending

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laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 6 months ago

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Evolution of my perception of Crosshair: a summary

Season 1, first viewing:

- Crosshair, stop trying to kill Caleb

- Crosshair, stop arguing with your brothers

- NO DON'T SHOOT WRECKER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU (I know what's wrong with you but that just makes me sadder 😢)

- stop 👏 trying 👏 to 👏 kill 👏 your 👏 brothers

- dude, I know the inhibitor chip is to blame for your behavior, but you're kinda out of line to blame your squad for protecting themselves when you were quite literally out for blood...

- and now you're telling me your chip was removed???

- awwww he saved Omega, gotta admit I'm a little crushed that he sees all his brothers assumed the worst of him, though to be honest I would have assumed the worst too given recent events

- WHY AREN'T YOU GOING WITH YOUR FAMILY THEY'RE RIGHT THERE???!? Crosshair you're driving me bonkers!!!

Season 1, first rewatch:

- mostly just trying to figure out when exactly the chip was removed

- still a little peeved that he's pinning blame on his squad, still wishing he had just gone with them so they had time to work through their differences together

Season 2, first viewing:

- Crosshair WHY are you staying with an employer who clearly despises you, your family loves you, say no to misery!

- oh maybe Tawni Ames will actually survive... Ohhhh Crosshair, still trigger happy, I see 🙄

- Crosshair, please punch Nolan in the face for me, you're closer than I am...

- ... ... ... ... ... on the floor sobbing too hard to breathe 💔

- NO DON'T TORTURE CROSSHAIR

- and the rest of the season is me repeatedly internally screaming somebody save him please!!!

Season 1, rewatch with context of season 2:

- still can't blame the others for escaping without him, since they clearly wanted him to come with them but no good will come from them being dead

- BUT, now I can see why he would feel lost and betrayed and angry, and I just wish things had been resolved between him and his brothers sooner

- if it turns out that the season 1 finale was the last time he saw Tech, I'm going to be sick

Season 2, rewatch:

- watching Crosshair's priorities and purpose shift is fascinatingly heartwrenching

- just save Crosshair, please!

Season 3, initial watch:

- I love him, I love him with Omega, I love him with his family, and I NEED him to find some peace and closure!!!

- ... dude this show just loves to find every possible way to traumatize Crosshair doesn't it??!?

- "Clone Force 99 died with Tech" ... Oh that's fine, I didn't need my heart anyway (y'all took it and never gave it back after "Plan 99"), though putting it through a meat grinder and setting it on fire was rather unnecessary

- ... oh my gosh he actually was allowed to grow old on Pabu!

All subsequent rewatches of any season:

- Crosshair, you're cocky and sarcastic and sassy and provoking and protective and grumpy and loving and loyal and yes definitely severe and unyielding, and I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! ❤️❤️❤️

#the bad batch #tbb crosshair #kinda wonder how he and zuko would get along #(zuko's my other top favorite “redemption arc” character)

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jessepinwheel · 7 months ago

Note

With your Para au, how do the Jedi react when they find out why Obi-Wan agreed to make the clones? Is it unethical? Yes. But also it was a shit situation and he's TRYING to help the Jedi?! Like I just picture them being like o.o. This is technically better than him betraying us but wtffff.

What was Jaster like in this AU? I know fabdom has him being a great guy but can ANY political leader of Mandalore be truly good in this AU lolllll

after boga gets rescued by the jedi, he ends up killing quinlan (the mandalorian jedi spy) to make sure the mandalorian empire doesn't find out that there is an escaped obi-clone with the rebels. of course, because he stabbed quinlan in the neck, he gets put in jedi jail

anyways, this is the point where the jedi find out that a) boga and all his obi-clone brothers are all in a psychic hive mind and b) obi-wan has the ability to possess his clone sons and c) obi-wan is still alive and in jango's torture basement. which to be fair, is a lot of things to have to come to terms with at once

mace (and friends) is of course extremely conflicted about this, not least because he's thought that obi-wan was dead these last ten years, and also because making all these obi-clones is definitely against the principles of the jedi, and also also because the whole situation with a hive mind of 2000 obi-clones is extremely fucked up as a concept. later on when obi-wan is able to have an actual conversation (through boga) with mace, it's helpful for them to understand just how dire obi-wan's circumstances have been for the last fifteen years since he was captured. like yes, obi-wan is doing a lot of really dubious stuff, but also he's been unable to contact any outside jedi for all that time and he had no other options. also, it helps that the obi-clones are very conveniently positioned to help the jedi and the rebellion

jaster, at least from the standpoint of the mandalorians, was a good ruler. as emperor, jaster moved the mandalorian center (and imperial palace) from sundari to keldabe, and also made a lot of changes which shifted power towards the working class mandalorian instead of having it all sequestered by the noble class. obviously the traditionalists hated him for that, which was why he was assassinated, which led to jango taking the throne quite young and putting his legitimacy into question. jaster had a strong interest in mandalorian history and also warrior's pride, so maybe he had more honor than jango does, but whether that translates to being less shit to the people of the empire is inconclusive. we can safely say that jaster did not hate the jedi nearly as much as jango does, though, because jango's hatred towards the jedi is obsessive and very directly tied up with his relationship with obi-wan

on a personal level, jaster was really busy being emperor so he didn't have all the time to spend raising jango--jango was primarily raised by other members of jaster's clan, the same way that jango has not had very much time to raise cody and rex, who ended up being primarily raised by myles (and also to some extent by obi-wan, who they talked to a lot in prison). I do think cody and rex remember grandpa jaster and remember him fondly, but that has more to do with the fact that jango used to spend more time with them when jaster was alive than jaster himself. like, even though jango's the one who's kept obi-wan in the torture basement for eleven years, jaster is the one who built that prison in the keldabe palace in the first place, so what does that say about him?

which is to say, jaster is definitely less shit than jango, but that's more because jango is especially shit than because jaster is a good person

ask me questions about parasitic extraction, the role reversal mandalorian empire au that I have

#ask jesse #fic: parasitic extraction

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electrikworm · 8 months ago

Text

The Batch have a terrible day

On a job for Cid, the Batch have another run in with Zygerrian slavers. They end up getting captured again and this time, they're not lucky enough to get out unscathed.

Content warning: Blood, torture, electrocution, whipping, broken bones

This fic has been finished but unedited for two weeks now, and I'm tired of it's un-posted existence haunting me. I edited it as best possible but no promises.

I feel like this fic's a bit more of an acquired taste, but I had fun writing it.

Nevertheless, Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

Wrecker shifts impatiently from foot to foot as Hunter knocks on the door again.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Wrecker asks, turning to Tech. Tech glares.

“Yes I am sure this is the right place. These are the coordinates Cid gave us.” he says, looking at his datapads screen, likely double checking they're in the correct location.

“Maybe she gave us the wrong coordinates?” Omega asks.

“That would be a new low, even for her.” Echo says as he knocks on the door himself.

They've been standing out here for a good ten minutes, and everyone's feeling a little on edge. Wrecker sighs. They're supposed to get some unspecified cargo from someone they know nothing about except that they're based in this building and transport it to a buyer who's also unknown to them. It's bad enough that there are so many unknown variables in this mission, the delay is making Wrecker really nervous.

The fact that it's midday, and Tatooine's twin suns are burning down on them isn't helping. Wrecker pushes his helmet up to wipe off the sweat running down his face. “I hate this.” he complains, meaning both the heat and having to linger on Tatooine. Cid's bar isn't exactly the nicest part of town, but this dust ball is entire different kind of shady.

Hunter nods, running his hand across the heavy door slowly, deliberately. “There's a possibility the seller got attacked.” He says. Wrecker can't say he disagrees. Now that it's been pointed out, the thing Hunter's inspecting does look a lot like a scorch mark caused by a blaster shot. “Seems like no one's home. Tech, can you get this door open?”

With a nod, Tech crouches near the door, eyes fixated entirely on the datapad he's holding too close to his face.

“We just need the cargo to get paid.” Hunter continues. “We'll search the place, see if anything's left.”

“Can't hurt to check.” Wrecker says. They haven't been earning well lately, surviving off of the most basic of rations. Of course Wrecker is glad they have anything to eat, but these aren't the same rations they got under the Republic. They're just as tasteless and boring, but the ones the Republic supplied them with were tailored to the clones higher need for calories. They're all in need of a good meal.

With a hiss, the door slides open. They are faced with a silent and dimly lit corridor. The air inside is almost freezing compared to the heat of the suns outside. A shiver shakes Wreckers body as they step inside.

They quickly come across another closed door and a corridor leading off to the right. Tech tries to get this one open too, but something stops him.

“Something must have damaged it.” Tech sighs, clearly annoyed. But their brother is nothing if not resourceful, and he comes up with two ways to solve their issue.

There's a ventilation shaft he points out that could lead to the other side of the door, albeit too small for anyone but Omega to fit through. There could also be another door if they followed the corridor to the right. Hunter orders Wrecker and Echo to look for another door, whilst he Tech and Omega see what they can do with the stuck one.

“Keep us updated if you find anything.” Hunter says as Wrecker and Echo set off. As they turn around, Wrecker can just about see Hunter lifting Omega up to get her to the vent.

The atmosphere is tense, every noise Wrecker and Echo make seeming too loud. They still know nothing of the seller, or what happened to them, if something even did.

After a few minutes of nothing but walking, Hunter contacts them. “Keep an eye out, I think I heard movement.”

Before either he or Echo can respond, there's a loud noise from the rest of the squads direction, echoing down the corridor. The familiar sound of blaster fire follows, and Echo immediately sprints in its direction. Wrecker tries to do the same, but something hits his arm, snaking its way around it.

Wrecker doesn't need to see who's at the other end of the electro-whip to know they're dealing with Zygerrians. The electricity flowing through the wire wrapped around his arm is intense enough to make him lose his grip on his blaster rifle. It's not enough to keep Wrecker from closing the gap between himself and his attacker and slamming his head into the Zygerrians face with a loud crack. He is immediately replaced by more.

Echo's turned back to assist Wrecker, firing shots at the attackers, but the corridor is narrow, and every time Wrecker takes a swing at the Zygerrians, Echo is forced to stop shooting. There's barely any room to dodge, so when one of the Zygerrians fires an electric net at Wrecker, it finds its target easily.

Wreckers muscles seize as the current courses through his body, yelling against the pain as he struggles with the weight of the net. It doesn't take him out fully, but that barely helps Wreckers situation. He's fallen to his knees, and the Zygerians are too close. Wrecker swings at them, but his aim is off and he hits weakly, limbs still wracked with spasms from the electrocution. Echo gets hit by a shot from an energy bow, and as he's trying to right himself, an electro-whip wraps its self around his neck.

Both of them are restrained with ease and lead into the very room they were trying to get into, weapons aimed at them and the threat of further electrocution used to make them walk.

Hunter and Tech are already in the large room, made to feel cramped by the dim lighting and low ceiling. Thankfully, Omega is nowhere to be seen. Wrecker doesn't let himself entertain the idea that that might mean she's already dead. There are a few crates strewn about the room, possibly the cargo they're here for. Not that that mattes when there's also at least fifteen Zygerrians gathered here.

Hunter and Tech already had their helmets and weapons removed, and the same is done to Wrecker and Echo before they are shoved to the ground next to their brothers. Wrecker drops to his knees with a hiss. This close, Wrecker can see that Tech's bleeding from a cut somewhere in his hairline.

“Omega?” Echo says just quiet enough for the four of them to hear.

“Safe, for now.” Hunter hisses back. Wrecker's about to ask about an escape plan when a surge of electricity courses through his body, leaving him gasping against the pain. By the look on his brothers faces, they were electrocuted too.

“You are not allowed to talk.” a Zygerrian states. The squad of clones complies for now. They're outnumbered, unarmed and bound. Wrecker hates to admit it, but their chances of escape seem pretty slim right now. They'll have to bide their time for an opportunity for escape to arise. Out of earshot, the Zygerrians are having a discussion.

“Where's the child?” the Zygerrian who seems to be in charge says, interrupting Wreckers train of thought. Kriff, did they spot her before Tech and Hunter were captured? The Zygerrian laughs. “Oh yes, we know about you. Some of us were there on Ord Mantel, when you ruined the beginning of something great.”

Wrecker resists the urge to groan. Of course their luck would lead them to a run-in with the same group of slavers twice.

“Rest assured, we will find the girl sooner rather than later.” The leader continues with a smile Wrecker would love to wipe off his face. “And we won't make the same mistake again. You'll be separated.” That certainly complicates things. “You wanted first pick, yes?” The leader says as he turns to one of his men. The Zygerrian he addressed nods before heading towards the group of kneeling clones, lips pulled into a snarl.

“Remember me?” he sneers. Only when the Zygerrian's kicked him in the stomach, does Wrecker realize he's the one being spoken to. “You broke my nose on Ord Mantel.” The Zygerrian adds with a threatening hiss. Now that it's been pointed out, his nose does look crooked. Wrecker genuinely can't say that he remembers this Zygerrian specifically, but he won't mention that. Doing so wouldn't improve the situation.

The Zygerrian with the crooked nose motions for two others to follow him after he orders Wrecker to get up and start walking. Legs still unsteady from previous electrocution, Wrecker does as ordered, knowing full well he won't be the only one he'd be hurting if he disobeyed now. Wrecker doesn't know much about Zigerrians, but one of the two that follow looks young. The other one sticks out due to being larger and stronger built than most of the Zygerrians in the room. Wrecker will have to watch out for him.

Wrecker's lead out of the central area and through a door to the side. The room inside is small and just as dimly lit. There are no windows, and if there once was furniture, it's been removed now.

“Kneel, skug.” The crooked nosed Zygerrian orders. Begrudgingly, Wrecker does as he's told. Apparently he moves too slow, as he's electrocuted again, making him fall to his knees a lot harder than intended. Wrecker glares at the slavers. The one with a grudge against Wrecker looks amused as he hands the control to Wrecker's shock collar to the younger Zygerrian, motioning him to use it. The rookie hesitates for a moment. His inexperience may end up aiding Wrecker's escape if he uses it to his advantage.

This time the electricity hits him, Wrecker bites himself. Blood pools in his mouth from the wound on the inside of his cheek. Before Wrecker can regain his bearings, the Zygerrian who's nose he apparently broke grabs Wrecker's face. He tips Wrecker's head from side to side, inspecting him closely, humming ever so often to express his opinion. It takes every ounce of resolve in Wrecker's body not to slam his head into the Zygerrian's smug face.

“That won't make you any more valuable.” he says as he traces the scar on Wreckers face. His sharp nails are uncomfortably close to Wrecker's cybernetic eye as the Zygerrian studies it with a disapproving sigh. “Damaged goods, but strong.” he continues, wrapping his other hand around Wreckers bicep. Wrecker wants to twist out of the Zygerrian's grip so badly. Instead, he makes an angered noise, halfway to a growl. “The attitude we will have to fix.” the Zygerrian says, sounding amused.

Wrecker spits a mouth full of blood in the Zygerrians face before he can properly consider the action. A harsh kick to the stomach from the large Zygerrian serves as immediate retribution. Wrecker can't help the groan that leaves his lips.

The Zygerrian he spat at is wiping the blood off his face with disgust. “Vile creature. If that's how you want to do things, I'll happily oblige.” He hisses, then snaps his fingers in the large Zygerrians direction. “Get the armor off his chest and back. He is in need of some retribution for what he did to my nose anyway.”

The large Zygerrian places his foot on Wrecker's lower back, pressing him forward uncomfortably as his armor is removed. Every bit of armor that is roughly pulled off is thrown across the room. Wrecker can't help the thought that if things go the Zygerrians way, this'll likely be the last he sees of it. The young Zygerrian is watching the scene unfold intently.

Once his back and chest are free, the Zygerrian with a grudge draws a blade and disappears behind Wrecker. The clone braces for pain, but all the Zygerrian does is split the shirt he's been wearing under his armor plating down the middle of his back. Though it's hardly important at the moment, Wrecker is a little annoyed at the ruined item of clothing.

“Up and hands against the wall.” the large Zygerrian says, drawing the electro-whip at his hip. Wrecker really doesn't like where this is going. He hesitates.

“Do as you're told slave, or we'll get one of your friends, beat them instead. Maybe the little girl's turned up by now.” The crooked nosed Zygerrian sneers. The thought alone of being the reason one of his vode is being hurt turns Wreckers stomach. Undoubtedly, terrible things are being done to them right now. Wrecker refuses to add to that. He just hopes Omega hasn't been caught.

Wrecker stands and moves to the wall, placing his cuffed hands against the cool stone. He feels uncomfortably exposed.

“Above your head, skug.” the large Zygerrian hisses. Wrecker presses his palms to the wall higher up.

“No one is going to buy you for your looks, we can afford leaving marks.” the crooked nosed Zygerrian says, tone betraying the smirk on his face, as he pushes Wrecker's shirt aside to fully expose his back.

The first lash of the whip lands without a warning. Wrecker doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of screaming, but the shock of the electricity leaves him very little choice in the matter. Once the contact ceases, so does the electrocution, but that hardly means Wrecker is afforded a break. Where the electo-whip's wire hit him, it's left a mark that stings like fire. Instinctively, Wrecker tries to move away from the awful sensation. He's quickly reprimanded and ordered to hold still.

Wrecker readjusts his position with clenched teeth. If it weren't for the collar, defeating the three Zygerrians whilst unarmed would be challenging but manageable. At best, he'd be able to take down one of them before he's electrocuted, which will be shortly followed by one of his siblings suffering the consequences of his actions. He's got no option but to play by their rules, and hope by the time an opportunity for escape arises, he still has the energy to do so.

The whipping only get worse from there. The strikes start to overlap and Wrecker soon learns that the implement is tipped with something sharp that digs into his skin every time it makes contact. Wrecker doesn't know how many times he's been hit, can't keep count with how closely the lashes follow each other.

The one that brings Wrecker to his knees hits his his back in a brutal downwards swing, sharp tip cutting into the muscle of his shoulder, whip leaving a mark diagonally all the way to his hip. His vision goes dark for a moment, next he knows, he's on the floor, forehead rested against the cold wall. Sweat and tears run down his face as he gasps for air in short, laboured pants.

It takes all of half a second for the crooked nosed Zygerrian to grind his boot into Wreckers back. He grits his teeth against the feeling of the rough sole being dragged along his torn skin, the weight of the Zygerrian pressing his face into the wall.

“I'm sure you are aware of what will happen if you do not get up right now.” The Zygerrian shows no desire to take his foot off Wrecker's back any time soon.

Leaning heavily on the wall, Wrecker pushes against the Zygerrian weighing him down. His legs tremble as he stands, but he gains a little satisfaction from making the Zygerrian take a hasty step backwards as to not fall over.

The tiny bit of glee he feels is soon quashed as the Zygerrian recovers from almost tripping and starts running his hand along Wreckers back. He flinches at the touch, hates himself for allowing his discomfort to show. Wrecker wants nothing more than to shove the Zygerrian off, it'd be so easy to take him out. He's standing so close, perfectly in Wrecker's range. Once again, Wrecker can't do a kriffing thing.

The Zygerrian laughs. “You are a lot more obedient than I expected. Almost like you were made for this.” He digs his nails into the split skin and blisters the electro-whip left on Wrecker's back. The large clone fails to suppress a wince. “I might keep you.”

The thought of having to answer to that man for any longer than he's had to up to now disgusts Wrecker. Wrecker huffs and risks turning his head to glare at the Zygerrian, regrets it as he sees the horrible little grin spreading on the feline's face.

“Don't worry, it wouldn't always be like this. I take good care of my possessions.” The tone he uses makes an involuntary shiver run down Wrecker's spine. “But you do have to pay for what you've done to me.” Stroking his hand along Wreckers back a final time, the Zygerrian steps to the side and snaps his fingers. The whip strikes him again, and Wrecker really isn't sure how much more of this he can take.

They get three more strikes in by the time the door slides open. Wrecker tilts his head to observe the situation. An out of breath Zygerrian is standing at the door, ears flicking nervously.

“We have a problem. One of the slaves is lose.” Wrecker fights the urge to laugh. He has a feeling Omega played a hand in that.

“How?” The Zygerrian with the crooked nose exclaims, then waves off the newest Zygerrians attempt to answer. “It doesn't matter.” He turns back to Wrecker. ”Get him secured. And you, shock him if he so much as breathes wrong.” He says to the large Zygerrian and the rookie respectively, then draws his blaster and leaves the room.

Wrecker's just been handed the perfect opportunity to escape, and he isn't about to waste it. The large Zygerrian approaches Wrecker far too casually, making the clone wonder if he's being underestimated, or if the Zygerrian is just stupid. He presses his blaster to Wrecker's neck. Wrecker doesn't wait to hear what ever order he's about to spit.

Wrecker's spun round and knocked the Zygerrian to the ground before he can even pull the trigger of his weapon. The rookie's slow. By the time he activates the collar, the large Zygerrian's knocked out, possibly+ dead.

The pain from the shock is intense, Wrecker can smell the burns on his neck even as he's screaming. When it stops, Wrecker overplays how out of it he is. He waits on his knees, head resting on the sand covered floor.

“Stay down, skug!” The rookie can't hide the way his voice wavers. It only takes Wrecker a split second to sit up, break his cuffs over his thigh plate and get his fingers under his collar. When the collar is triggered again, Wrecker's still trying to get it off, his fingers cramping and burning under the electricity. The rookie however acted too late once again, as moment later, the collar breaks.

A panicked scream is all the new slaver gets out before he is thrown across the room.

Wrecker shakes his hands to lessen the sting as he staggers to his strewn about pieces of armor. Grimacing, Wrecker pulls the cut under-shirt back into place. The blood running down his back soaks into his gloves. It takes an awful amount of focus not to scream as he fixes his armor back in place, feeling a lot like he's being whipped once more.

Moving with his armor back on doesn't feel any better Wrecker notes as he hurries to join his vode in battle. He grabs the large Zygerrian's blaster on his way out. There's no one directly outside of the door, but Wrecker can hear the commotion of battle close by.

When he rounds a corner, he is almost hit by some kind of electro-staff. Wrecker's ready to defend himself, but pauses.

“Tech?” Wrecker's surprised at how hoarse he sounds.

“Wrecker.” his brother sighs, lowering the staff. He looks rough.

“Where are your goggles?” Tech's still bleeding from the cut on his head, more blood coming from a split lip, and has additional bad bruising littering his face, but his goggles are absent. The collar is still around his neck, and he's standing hunched.

“One of the slavers saw fit to step on them.” Tech says, eyes unfocused and distant thanks to his bad sight. “Right after he stepped on my hand.”

Wrecker's eyes flick down to Tech's still cuffed hands. The one not clasped around the staff has a noticeable tremor to it. There's nothing Wrecker can do for any of Tech's problems right now, they'll need Echo to get the cuffs and collar off.

“Stick close, ori'vod.” Wrecker says as he moves to put a careful hand on Tech's shoulder, giving him enough time to dodge He doesn't. Hand on his brother's shoulder, Wrecker continues walking.

The building they're in isn't big, Wrecker and Tech only run into two Zygerrians more until they're back in the room they were first dragged to. Wrecker breaths a sigh of relief when he spots the rest of their squad.

Echo doesn't look good either, the shot he took to the shoulder making his hand unsteady as he shoots, seemingly barely able to lift it, and when he moves, he does so with a heavy limp. Hunter looks the worst. He's barely upright by the looks of it. Omega is thankfully unharmed.

Wrecker opens fire on the Zygerrians, taking care to keep Tech near. Even without his goggles, Tech effectively fends off attackers behind Wrecker. The fight is practically over when a voice now familiar to Wrecker makes him and his brothers freeze.

“Drop your weapons, or I kill the child.” the crooked nosed Zygerrian announces. He has his hand wrapped around he back of her neck, his blaster held against the side of her head. The Zygerrians nails dig into her skin as Omega violently struggles against his grip.

“Let her go.” Wrecker snarls.

“Why would I do that?” laughs the Zygerrian. “Do not think she will be exempt from the same treatment you got, slave. The longer you wait, the worse things will get for her.” Grinning at Wrecker, he slams the back of his blaster into the side of Omega's face, knocking her to the ground, face twisted in pain. Bringing his boot down hard on her back, he pins Omega to the floor. Instinctively, they all lurch forwards, but a shot fired dangerously close to Omega's head lets them stop in their tracks.

There are two other Zygerrians still up, though they look worse for wear. They matter little with Omega's life on the line.

“Drop your weapons.” The Zygerrian repeats. Wrecker considers offering himself up in exchange for Omega, but doubts this is the kind of man to let anyone go. It's all Wrecker can think of that doesn't endanger Omega further. “You too, big guy.”

Wrecker goes to put his blaster down, just as the Zygerrian gestures at him using his own weapon. For a split second, it's not aimed at Omega. That's all it takes for Wrecker to shoot him in the chest.

Echo's immediately at Omega's side as Wrecker and Tech take the last two Zygerrians out, after which they also check on their sister. Echo's carefully inspecting the cuts on her neck, while Omega presses her hand to the bruise forming on her cheek, wincing as she does.

“You okay there, kid?” Wrecker asks, running a hand over her head. He hopes there's no blood left on his gloves.

She nods, smiling surprisingly wide for someone who's just had their life threatened. “It's fine.” Wrecker can't say he agrees, fear still fresh in his system.

“What now?” Wrecker asks, changing the topic from the fact Omega could have just died.

“We try and locate the client and finish the job.” Hunter forces out, voice strained. He's sat down on one of the crates, holding his face in his hands. Wrecker grimaces in sympathy. The electrical burns around his brothers neck are extensive. They all know what electricity does to his enhanced senses. Hunter's no doubt feeling extremely overwhelmed on top of being in a world of pain.

Convincing Hunter to stay seated and letting them do the searching is difficult. Echo ends up staying with him, no one comfortable with leaving Hunter alone in his state. They tried to get Omega to stay too, but she adamantly refuses to do so.

Once Tech is release from his bindings, and they reclaim their own weapons and helmets, the three of them scout the building for any sign of the person they were supposed to meet. Wrecker keeps a close eye on his siblings throughout.

At some point, after they've checked the first two rooms, Tech gets Wrecker's attention by motioning him to lean closer. Doing so sends a wave of agony up Wrecker's spine, though he doesn't let on.

“How bad are Hunter's burns?” Tech asks.

“They don't look good. He doesn't look good.” Wrecker sighs. “We need to get him on the Marauder and laying down soon as possible.”

Tech hums affirmatively. “Quite. What about Omega?”

“The scratches aren't too deep, but they could get infected.”

“Anything about Echo I might have missed?” Tech asks. Wrecker shakes his head. If there was anything else, he's missed it too. “What about you?”

“I'm good to go.” Wrecker laughs. “Quit worrying.” Tech's eyes narrow in suspicion, but he doesn't say anything more.

Omega sprinting out of a room they hadn't been in yet draws their attention back to their surroundings. Her eyes are blown wide.

“What's the matter, ad'ika?” Tech asks, leaning forwards and squinting almost comically.

“I think I found the client...”

The room looks like a living space, almost cozy thanks to the patterned carpet covering the harsh floor, and close arrangement of the furniture. In the centre of it, someone lays sprawled on the ground. An elderly Twi'lek woman, orange skin worn with age, scars dotting her body and blaster laying in her limp hand telling the tale of the kind of life she led. The circular wound in her forehead, blood long since clotted, but having had enough time to soak into the carpet, immediately tells them how that tale ended.

“I do believe your assumption is correct Omega.” Tech says, crouching down next to the corpse. Omega holds he energy-bow close as she watches him. Wrecker decides to usher Omega out of the room with the dead stranger by placing a hand on her shoulder. They wait outside for Tech to rejoin them before heading the short way back to their brothers.

“The client is dead.” Tech announces as soon as Echo and Hunter are in sight. Echo sighs heavily.

“Do we just take the cargo and bring it to the buyer?” Wrecker asks.

“But we don't even know what we need to transport!” Omega says. Wrecker groans. That's going to be an issue.

“We will have to check the crates present in this building and narrow it down to those most likely to be something worth trading.” Tech says. “We will have to bring the Marauder closer.”

Wrecker makes a noise of frustration, remembering where they'd landed it. “Why'd we have to leave the ship so far away?” He knows the answer, they left the ship somewhere not so easily accessible to try and prevent theft. Tech repeats this to him again either way.

“I will be back with the ship shortly.” Tech says, already walking off.

“Forget it, ori'vod.” Wrecker jogs up to Tech, cutting him off. “Not with that hand. I'm flying.”

“You most definitively are not!” Tech sounds offended. “You don't fly the Marauder nearly enough, you are completely out of practice.”

Wrecker huffs. “If not me, then who? Your hand's broken, Echo got shot and Hunter looks like he's 'bout to throw up.”

Tech looks like he's about to argue further, but is interrupted by Echo. “I have to agree with Wrecker.” Hunter makes something adjacent to an affirmative noise, though it is heavily laced with discomfort.

“Fine.” Tech sighs. “But I'm coming with you.”

Wrecker's almost forgotten how hot it was outside. The heat hits him like a tank when they step into the sun. He'd know, he's been hit by a tank before. The way to the Marauder isn't that long, 15 minutes, 25 being slowed down by tech's lack of vision and their injuries. It is however extremely unpleasant. The heat is near unbearable, he's starting to get a headache and his back feels like it's on fire, every step dragging his backplate across his lacerated skin.

Ten minutes into their walk, Omega comms them. “Please hurry, Echo started bleeding and Hunter's been sick twice already.” She sounds terrified.

“We'll be back before you know it, Omega” Wrecker responds, hoping to sound comforting. He picks up the pace he walks at.

The incline they have to climb in the last stretch to the ship almost takes Wrecker out. He's drenched in sweat and dizzy from pain once the ship is in sight. The Havoc Marauder's interior is pleasantly cool, having been left in the shade of a rock formation. Whilst Tech looks for his spare goggles, Wrecker takes a moment to lean on the wall and just breath, closing his eyes as he does so.

“Are you quite alright?” Tech asks. He's found the spare goggles, is adjusting the way they sit on his face, disturbed by the bad bruising. This pair looks nearly identical, only the strap being a slightly different shade of colour.

“Could ask you the same.” Wrecker retorts. Tech's breathing pretty heavily himself, and the way he moves has a shakiness to it. Tech shakes his head and motions for Wrecker to follow him to the cockpit.

Tech hovers near Wrecker as he starts up the ship. He only sighs as Tech reminds him of things he already knows, not having the energy to argue. Operating the Marauder's controls aggravates the dull sting of the burns his hands suffered. Wrecker welcomes it, the discomfort serving as a slight distraction from his back. The ship shudders as it lifts off, prompting Tech to tell Wrecker to watch it.

“And now you're moving at snails pace.” Tech says with a sigh.

“I'm just trying to be careful.” Wrecker grumbles. The fact that Tech most likely perceives the speed Wrecker uses as slow because Tech flies like he wants to cause an accident, Wrecker keeps to himself. Landing the Marauder is a little unsteady as well and Wrecker gets reprimanded once more.

Just as Wrecker's about to stand up again, not wanting the exhaustion taking hold of his body to win, Tech clicks his tongue. “What did you do to your under-shirt?”

Tech brushes his hand along the edge of the cut shirt, pushing it to the side. He does so carefully. In truth, it barely changes anything about the pain Wrecker's experiencing. But for some reason, the touch makes his skin crawl and his heart rate pick up. He almost jumps out of the chair he gets up so fast, quickly turning his back away from his brother.

Tech's frowning, eyes widened slightly. “Did they whip you Wrecker?” His voice is collected, but tinged by a mix of worry and anger.

“That's a problem for later.” Wrecker says, walking away from his brother as fast as he trusts himself to. He hears Tech calling after him, choses to pretend not to. “Stay with the ship, we don't want it to get stolen.”

Wrecker's rather proud of how close he managed to land the ship to the base. He won't have to carry the crates too far this way. Wrecker keeps up the pace he's moving at all the way to his vode, not wanting to leave them alone any longer than he has to.

Echo's sat down too by the time Wrecker's arrived. True to Omega's word, he's bleeding through bandages clearly hastily, but neatly, wrapped round his shoulder. Hunter is hunched over heavily, barely conscious by the looks of it. Omega was stood between them looking nervous until she spots Wrecker and runs up to him.

Wrecker crouches down, deciding he can spare at least that much energy for her sake. “Can you get Echo onboard, whilst I get Hunter?” Omega nods with determination. Amusement crosses Echo's face as he follows closely behind Omega.

Wrecker clenches his teeth as he gets up, crouching down a second time in front of Hunter. He pushes his helmet up. “Sarge?” Wrecker speaks softly, not wanting to worsen his brother's headache. Hunter groans and his unfocused eyes flick up to meet Wreckers. “Come on, lets get you on the Marauder.” He knows an offer to be carried will be refused.

With a nod, Hunter starts to stand, needing Wrecker to pull him up most of the way. Wrecker tries to touch Hunter as little as possible, only to steady him if he stumbles. Hunter doesn't need more sensation messing with his brain. For a moment, Wrecker considers putting his brother's helmet back on him to lessen the intensity of the sun. The fact that Hunter might throw up again makes him carry it for him instead. There are few places worse to be sick than in your own helmet.

His caution was warranted, as not two steps out of the building, Hunter bends over and starts expelling mouthfuls of watery spit between coughing.

“Just a bit further, ori'vod.” Wrecker tries to encourage his brother. Once they get to the last few meters separating them from the Marauder, Hunter's legs give out on him. Wrecker makes the decision to pick him up weather Hunter likes it or not, apologizing profusely the entire way. Hunter doesn't look as offended as Wrecker expected him to when he's set down inside the Havoc Marauder.

“I'll load the ship.” announces Wrecker, walking off again. Tech follows him. “You should stay, get that hand looked at.” Wrecker says, boots sinking into the sand slightly as he turns to look at his brother standing at the top of the steps leading out of the ship.

“The pain I am experiencing is mild at worst.” Tech says, clearly lying. “I will help you.”

Wrecker scoffs. “With one hand?”

“I will help you determine what is worth taking.” Wrecker wants to protest, but knows any argument he brings, Tech will throw right back at him and his own less than ideal condition.

“Fine.”

Sorting through the variety of crates and boxes takes longer than Wrecker likes. A lot of it has no value. How their seller had three crates of out of date rations, a food source known for it's extremely long shelf-life, Wrecker does not know. What's more irritating is that a large quantity of the stuff they find could potentially be what the buyer wants.

That means countless trips back and forth from the Marauder. The overhead cargo hold is entirely full of boxes when their done, as well as there being barely any room left to move freely in the Marauder with all the excess crates stacked on the floor.

Wrecker feels exhausted as he walks to the ship the last time. Tech keeps glancing over at him, has been doing so constantly. Wrecker's glad his helmet hides his expression. Between the adrenalin and the now badly aggravated burns on his hands acting as a distraction, the pain of his back has faded to the background of Wrecker's mind. It'll come crashing back down on him as soon as he lets his body rest.

Wrecker's glad to find their vode on the ship already patched up, no doubt due to Omega's help. Hunter's laying on the lowest sleeping rack, wet towel covering his forehead and eyes, neck bandaged. They learnt young that Hunter needs a thicker layer of bacta separating injuries from what is used to cover them. The fabric against his skin is unbearable if not done correctly. Wrecker doesn't doubt Omega's skills, but is still reassured by how calm Hunter seems.

Echo's sitting in one of the console chairs, not looking his best, but not actively bleeding any more either. A blanket is draped around his shoulders, hopefully countering the cold of blood loss that's no doubt layered on top of Echo's usual low temperatures.

Omega's situated on one of the crates, injuries tended to same as the others. The ugly bruise on her cheek has really set in by now, and Wrecker can't help but feel responsible. She's got her arms crossed in front of her chest and sighs exasperatedly ever so often.

“Something wrong, 'mega?” Wrecker asks, not entirely sure if he should be amused by her antics, or if there's a genuine issue.

“They insisted I get taken care of first, even though they're hurt much worse.” She glares at Hunter and Echo as she speaks.

Wrecker laughs. “Downside of being the smallest.” He states, running his hand over her head before making his way to the cockpit.

Together with Tech, Wrecker gets the Marauder into hyperspace without any problems. According to Tech, they should still be able to make the arranged meeting time with the buyer. A few hours in hyperspace to calm down and collect themselves will do them all some good.

Wrecker doesn't get far before Tech starts waving the med scanner at him. “Your 'problem for later' is now a problem for the present. Sit down and let me see your back.”

“What's wrong with Wrecker's back?” Omega asks before Wrecker can argue with Tech. Wrecker hates the fact that he's worrying Omega.

“He got whipped.” Tech says with annoyance in his voice.

That gets Echo to abruptly sit up more. “What?” Hunter tries to do something similar, but is forced to give up half way and lay down again with a shaky groan. Wrecker was trying to avoid a fuss being made, but of course nothing ever goes the way he wants it to.

“It's fine.” Wrecker hisses, pushing the med scanner away. “Tech's injures are worse. He hit his head and could have internal bleeding.” Tech glares at him, almost making Wrecker want to back down.

“Fine.” Tech huffs, sitting down in the chair next to Echo. “Despite your size, I will have to be the bigger person once again.” Wrecker almost sighs in relief.

Wrecker desperately wants to be useful in the first-aid done on Tech, but the way his hands shake make his help pointless, just making Tech glare at him again at the clear demonstration of how not fine Wrecker is. The work falls to Omega. Wrecker's thankful for her medical knowledge, hates the fact she's forced to use it.

Tech's hand has multiple fractures, and, like Echo, he's broken ribs. Omega looks shocked at the amount Tech's broken, so Wrecker feels justified in pushing for his brother to be looked at first. He hasn't got any life threatening internal bleeding, though his head wound needs stitches. That's something Omega can do. The sterile gloves she wears as she works are too big for her, making her hands look even smaller. Wrecker wishes he could take over.

All eyes are on Wrecker once Tech's patched up. Unease settles in his stomach at the though of medical treatment, Wrecker can't pinpoint why it's this bad. Wrecker pulls a crate in front of where Tech and Echo sit, settling on it so that Tech and Omega have easy access to his back.

Wrecker fully intends to hold still and be as uncomplicated as possible, but when Tech's hand brushes against his skin, he's standing with his back turned to them faster then he can register how he got there. Fear grips him like it did the first time. He knows it's just Tech, Wrecker shouldn't be reacting like this. He wrings his hands.

“Wrecker.” Tech's tone sounds like he's about to tell Wrecker off. Before he can, his expression softens. Omega and Echo are both looking at him too, clear concern bleeding into their expressions. Wrecker would rather they'd just get mad at him for being difficult, that'd make it easier not to feel so guilty.

“We will move at your pace and I will announce anything I do, but please, sit back down kih'vod.” Tech continues. Wrecker nods and does as he's told, heart hammering against his ribcage. “Omega is using the med scanner.”

The verdict isn't anything Wrecker didn't expect, though Omega doesn't sound pleased by it.

Wrecker's breath catches when Tech states he'll be given something against the pain first. It's starting to really hurt again now that his body is starting to feel the days exertion, and the adrenalin is dropping off, but the thought of the needle involved in getting painkillers makes Wrecker want to skip that step.

Wrecker doesn't get to complain, Echo gently encouraging him to accept the pain relief before he can. Echo has a similar distrust to medical equipment, though for better reasons than Wrecker. Wrecker takes his advice. He's causing his vode enough trouble as is. Even with Tech narrating his work, Wrecker is still surprised by the sharp sting of the hypo at his neck.

Tech can work well enough one handedly, but anything that requires more limbs is done by Omega. Removing his armor is a combined effort. Wrecker taps his fingers against his thigh plates, trying to distract from the hands touching him.

If Wrecker couldn't feel it, Omega's soft gasp would have been enough to know his back has been exposed.

“Kark...” Omega mumbles, almost making Wrecker laugh.

“Omega.” Hunter mumbles, failing at making his tone sound like a warning. Omega catches what he means.

“If you could see Wrecker's back, you'd swear too.”

“I feel inclined to agree with Omega.” Tech says. Hunter tries to sit up again, but doesn't manage.

“I second that.” Echo says with a sympathetic hiss. “You'll need stitches for some of those.”

Before that can happen, Tech starts cleaning out the lacerations, warning Wrecker every time he's going to run the wet cloth along his back. He's clearly being careful. Wrecker can still barely manage to breath through the pain, the sand clinging to his blood harsh against his raw skin. He hates the fact that he can't stop himself from flinching, hates the fact his vode feel the need to apologize or console him when he does even more.

Omega helps Wrecker with his burnt hands as Tech washes grit out of Wrecker's wounds. Like Tech, she explains everything she does thoroughly. When she pulls off his gloves, every time she shifts his hands or touches them. Wrecker should be strong enough to tell them they don't need to bother putting in the extra effort, but knows he wouldn't be able to bare the situation if they didn't.

His hands shake as Omega's smaller ones inspect them. The burns are hardly worth mentioning, barely any real damage done. Seeing one of his vode in front of him is grounding, so Wrecker is grateful either way, even if the clinical smell of bacta does little to calm his nerves.

When Omega moves to attend his neck, Wrecker is forced to look up. He sees none of his siblings like this, nothing that ties him to this particular moment. Just the generic overhead lamp that could really be anywhere. And for a short, selfish moment, Wrecker is relived Omega's the one to have to do this. Her hands are smaller then the Zygerrian's, than the Kaminoan's, than any of Tipoca City's medical staff. Omega's hands are instantly recognizable as hers.

The thought shouldn't have crossed Wrecker's mind. Omega's a child, she shouldn't be forced to help out with their issues. Especially not when she's injured.

Tech can't do stitches with one hand, so Omega is saddled with that as well. His three conscious vode discuss which gashes are worth trying to stitch. Apparently, there's a significant amount of lashes that have overlapped so badly, attempting to join the torn skin would be a waste of time.

As Wrecker's receiving stitches, Tech sits where his little brother can see him. Wrecker's grateful for his company, even if Tech should be resting, not sitting on a box to keep his brother calm. Tech speaks softly, mainly encouragement, but also of arbitrary things. It's obvious that Tech is aware of every face Wrecker pulls, every hiss, flinch or whimper. He makes sure to speak more comforting words in those moments.

Tech rarely touches Wrecker, only to still his hands if Wrecker is jostling the bandages too much. Wrecker, usually starved for physical contact, appreciates this. More hands on him would only make him more anxious.

It doesn't take long for involuntary tears to form in Wrecker's eyes again, burnt edges of the lacerations having to be pressed together before the skin can be sewn. The blood doesn't make Omega's job any easier, frequently making her lose her grip. She apologizes so profusely when she does. Wrecker wishes she didn't feel like she has to, even if it is nice of her to care enough to do so.

“How can anyone want to hurt someone like this?” Omega asks at some point. Wrecker doesn't have a good answer for her, but is suddenly very glad Omega didn't have to watch the injuries being inflicted upon him.

“It is common among Zygerrians to see other species as inferior.” Tech answers. “It's remarkably easy to inflict serious harm on someone if you believe them to be lesser, or that they deserve it.” The conversation doesn't go further than that. Wrecker isn't sure he could handle any more discussion of heavy topics.

Once Omega is done, Tech runs a wet cloth along Wrecker's back a second time, ridding his skin of drying blood. Wrecker is helped out of what is left of his under-shirt, bacta is generously spread across his damaged skin, then bandaged. They opt for Wrecker just to wear the poncho he'd use to not stick out among civilians, everyone agreeing that getting anything tighter on him would only hurt.

Wrecker spends most of the hyperspace journey in silence, trying to stop himself feeling so on edge, and trying to fix his cut under-shirt. He's soon forced to to leave the latter for later, hands still far too unsteady.

When they arrive, Wrecker has to fight the bone deep exhaustion making him want to stay seated so he can land the ship.

The meeting with the buyer is a lot more irritating and drawn out than any of them had hoped. It got off to a bad start when the buyer, a middle-aged Theelin woman with silvery skin, started laughing loudly upon watching Tech, Echo and Wrecker descend from the Marauder.

“You look kriffing awful!” she just about manages to get out, barely able to get a hold of her amusement.

It's only downhill form there. She takes ages to say what she wants to buy, a set of blasters long since outdated and no longer suited for combat. Wrecker doesn't care enough to ask why she'd want something like that. It then takes her even longer to explain what the blasters she wants look like. Wrecker ends up having to carry a lot of crates in and out of the Marauder for absolutely no reason. He's got a suspicion she is just giving such cryptic descriptions because she finds it funny.

She hands the credits over without a problem. Wrecker's prepared to be thankful for even just that small mercy.

Back on Ord Mantell, Tech and Wrecker are the ones to talk to Cid. Hunter shouldn't get up and Omega wants to keep an eye on him. Echo stayed to keep an eye on both of them.

Cid raises an eyebrow when she sees them, but at least she doesn't laugh.

“Alright, tell me, what did you do with the rest of your little bunch?” She asks, crossing her arms. “Why are you dressed like that and hobbling about like you threw your back out? And what did you do to your face, goggles?” There's a hint of bemusement in her otherwise unimpressed tone.

“The seller you sent us to meet had a problem with Zygerrians.” Tech says.

Cid scoffs. “You lot are unlucky. Did you get the job done?”

“'Course we did!” Wrecker exclaims, making Tech shake his head in annoyance.

“It does need to be mentioned that the seller is dead.” Tech adds.

“And why'd you go and do that?” Cid asks with a sigh.

“We didn't! The Zygerrians did that too.” Wrecker says.

They explain the situation to Cid, the additional cargo they've acquired, and the state the squad is in. Cid ends up paying them ten percent more than their usual thirty, for medical supplies and because they'll be making her more money with crates of decently valuable goods. Wrecker's quite please with the extra percentage, though Tech isn't impressed.

Back at the Marauder, Hunter's still laying on the lowest sleeping rack, seemingly asleep. Echo and Omega are now in the one above him, the small clone snoring quietly, face buried in Echo's chest. Echo greets them with a nod, eyes half lidded.

Wrecker likes the idea of sleep, but there's no way he's getting on the third rack, nor will sleeping in one of the chairs do his back any good. Instead, he pushes some of the crates aside and spread one of their blankets out on the floor.

“You're sleeping on the floor.” Tech says. He doesn't sound pleased.

“Where else? S'not that much worse than the rack.” Wrecker says, continuing making his bed on the floor. “Oh, uh. If you wanna sleep on the top rack, I can lift you up. You know, 'cause of your hand.”

Tech shakes his head. “No thank you.” Wrecker thinks he's going to move to sleep on one of the chairs, but Tech pauses, watching his brother. “If you believe physical contact would no longer have a negative affect on you, I wouldn't mind sharing the floor.” Tech says this like there isn't plenty of space on the floor for him to sleep further away from Wrecker if he wanted to.

Wrecker nods. He thinks he'd like that, now the medical situation is far behind them. Soon they're both laying down, Wrecker curled up against Tech's chest not unlike Omega, mindful of each other's injuries. It doesn't take long for Tech to fall asleep. In the comfortable warmth, and with Tech's rhythmic snoring, it's a lot easier for Wrecker to push the pain to the back of his mind and follow his brother soon after.

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb hunter #wrecker whump #Everyone was hurt in the making of this fic!#But it's from Wrecker's pov so you see his suffering most #tw blood #tw injury #whump #my writing

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ailithnight · 1 year ago

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Now that I have time to spare:

Ooh! I wonder where they're going? Gotham maybe? Though I can't imagine Bruce taking a virtual unknown to the manor/cave. He'd be too paranoid that this is all some kind of trick or trap. Danny has been oddly complacent. B is probably running all sorts of risk assessments in his head. Hard as it may be when the clone looks like an amalgamation of his kids, he has to consider the possibility that this clone is brainwashed into being some kind of spy or sleeper agent for CADMUS.

So maybe a safehouse in/around Gotham? That would make sense for Bruce wanting to keep the clone close both to keep an eye on and also hopefully help. Obviously if the clone isn't a threat, Bruce is taking him in. Although, with the way things are looking, he might have to fight Kon for that privilege. Kon has an undeniable bond to the new clone, both being CADMUS clones. But maybe Kon would think of Danny more like a brother? And leave the parenting to someone else? That makes sense I think.

OH! I just had a thought. I wonderful beautiful sadistic thought.

At some point or another, this "dream" takes a turn towards "nightmare". Maybe not anytime soon. In fact, at Atiya's pace, it feels like it would be several thousand words out at least. But it could/would eventually happen. Maybe Danny gets hurt. Maybe Skulker or someone finds him, recognizes Phantom's core even in the new body, and starts a fight. Or maybe he even gets caught again. By CADMUS (with power suppressors) or the GIW.

However it happens, "dream" turns "nightmare", and Danny is... conflicted? On the one hand, it seriously sucks that even in his dreams, Danny can't escape the pain. On the other, its still so much better than whatever the GIW is probably doing to his "real" body right now.

Because this is just a dream. It's just a dream. It can't actually hurt. This pain isn't real. All he has to do is wait it out. There's no need to fight it. Sooner or later this nightmare run its course and the dream will shift to the next fantasy. Danny wonders what it'll be. Another escape fantasy? Oh! There are heros here! Maybe the dream is just setting him up to be rescued! That sounds nice. All he has to do is let it happen. It'll be okay. It's not even real.

If this is after everyone else realizes that Danny is convinced this is a dream, we can watch them go into full panic mode knowing that Danny's condition is so delicate and he's unlikely to even try for self preservation.

If it's before though, if this is how they learn that Danny wholeheartedly believes this is all some fantasy to escape the torture he was previously enduring, boy are they gonna be blindsided by all the revelations there.

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

#Atiya- Omni- this was supposed to be a prompt for others to get hooked on and write #So I could focus my limited supply of creative energy right now on my othe WIPs #How dare you trick me into thinking about this instead

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toxictrannyfreak · 2 years ago

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⭐ haven't seen any of your stuff yet but you're one of coolest people on my dash so I can't wait to see what you've been working on

Oh. My gosh, that’s some high praise, but I think some of the kids at my school would laugh you out of the house for calling me cool. I have like 1 friend, and that’s… complicated at the best of times. But I’m getting off track. Enjoy this slice of my WIP. Hope it lives up to your expectations

———

He was gone, decades back, to a planet he didn't remember, with a person whose face he couldn't see. The cliff they stood on was towering, too enormous to be accurate, and the stars above were impossibly bright, blaster bolts of sunlight forcing their way through the immense dark. He was young here, on this half-remembered world. The war still raged; he saw an encampment below, packed to bursting with clones and tanks. He looked at the woman next to him, fervently wishing that just this once, she might stay dead.

His Master, whoever she was, didn't move a muscle, and he almost deluded himself into thinking that she never would. Instead, she shifted her weight, and the corner of his brain that would always be a traitor knew she would speak.

"Isn't it beautiful, -----?" The name she said, that horrible, disgusting, vile name, was incomprehensible, as it always was. Just as dead as the boy next to her. She always said it. She could never say anything else because she had died with that name and that boy a decade and a half ago.

Though her face was forever lost, gone, taken from him, he could swear she smiled. He remembered how powerfully he hated her. She spoke anyway.

"Half these stars are dead, yet we still see them. Memorials in the sky, sharing their light still."

He could never understand her, understand any of it. He'd forgotten too much of her, killed too much of himself for that. All he had left were these fragments, incomprehensible and infuriating. He despised her. He hadn't always, or at least he hadn't in this memory, because he, the young, traitorous, monstrous, innocent child he could never remember, looked up at the stars, and questioned.

"But... if they're dead... how can we see things that don't exist anymore?"

She laughed, and it wasn't quite right because he couldn't remember how it had sounded. That part of her was gone, lost to time. She was a betrayer and a monster, and her laugh was not something he was allowed to know. When she spoke again, her voice was wrong, harsh, as if she was talking through a vocoder, and he knew it was ending.

"Light never dies, child. It will always exist. If it was there once, even for a second, someone will always be able to see it."

She turned back to him, but of course, she didn't, because she couldn't because she was dead. Her face was gone, and she was gone, and there was nothing. The world shifted in a blaze of fire and explosions and screams, and she was face-down on the ground of a different planet, blaster wounds carved into her flesh, and he was back in his body, back in the black uniform of the Inquisitorious, of the Empire that had killed her. The dream-memory-falsehood broke in front of him, shattering into war and pain and ghosts and torture, and Third Brother woke up.

———

Yeah… bout 300 words of my latest will-never-post WIP. Star Wars au, you could probably tell. I think the conversation is a bit on the nose but it’s ~thematically relevant~ and I can’t find a better way to put it. So yeah. Sorry it’s a little late, I was frantically editing it for two days to make it vaguely presentable.

#stfu kor #asks #anon #ask game #writing #my writing #Star Wars au #Rebels au #haha this sucks don't minf me

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meep-morp-s · 3 years ago

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Febuwhump 1- head wound, Wolffe

So excited to be doing Febuwhump this year! Last year this event introduced to me so many amazing writers (and future friends!) and some heart wrenching fic. I thought I'd take a stab at it and stab some of my faves in the process ;)

I'm doing a new character for each prompt, no repeats, and starting off strong with Wolffe!

He comes to with the sound of footsteps. They’re heavy, like those of the SBDs that trail behind her, but not metallic. They’re faster, too, thundering louder and louder like the pounding in his own head.

Wolffe can feel his heartbeat in his eardrums, more on his right side where he’s sure there is also blood leaking out of his ear. He squints into the dim red lighting of his cell-slash-torture chamber and braces himself for whatever comes next.

His head hurts so much it makes him dizzy. The next thing he knows, Wolffe is collapsing onto the surprisingly warm and comforting ground. Finally out of manacles, his arms sting with pinpricks of sensation and hang limply. He couldn’t move them if he tried, but if he could he would cradle his aching face.

He doesn’t remember much of the torture he endured, but he remembers Ventress lashing out punishment on his face in particular during her latest attempt to extract intel.

“Wolffe,” a familiar voice rumbles. “Wolffe, can you hear me?”

“G- General?” he croaks. He tries to see what’s happening. His vision is spotty, but he can make out the silhouette of his General, and presumably his men behind him. He can’t make out their armor patterns, but he’d bet his life that it’s Sinker and Boost. Those two would never leave him behind or out of sight for long.

Time becomes muddy once again until a sharp noise makes him hiss. General Koon shifts him into a more comfortable position, still on his lap, so they lean against the wall. Wolffe thinks he hears him call for a medic, and he thinks his General’s voice might be shaking. Wolffe tries to speak, but nothing comes out. He tries again. “Wa- wat-”

“Here, my canteen,” he hears Sinker offer. A moment later cool and refreshing liquid makes its way to his mouth. He can still barely feel his arms but one raises up to grab the canteen and douse his entire face with water. It wakes him up. The sting of recent wounds to his head clears his mind a bit. He blinks and tilts his head to look at General Koon.

“I didn’t say anything, sir,” he reports. “All she ever heard was my rank and designation.”

Plo nods absentmindedly, but his shielded eyes are focused directly on him beneath worried brows. “You’re safe now. You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.”

“Ventress learned her lesson. You can’t break a clone,” Boost says. “We ran her out of here like the loser she is.”

Wolffe is moved again. There is a medic above him now, looking between him and the General. He hears something about an eye. Thinking about it, thinking at all, makes his head hurt. The right side in particular again. He lifts his arm up to cover his face, maybe it’s the lights. He forgets he’s still holding Sinker’s canteen and drops it halfway to his face.

It catches Plo’s attention and the Kel Dor grabs Wolffe’s hand before he can rub at his right eye. But it hurts.

“I know, I know,” Plo comforts. Oh, he said that aloud. The hand on his arm and the warm chest behind him is comforting, but he can feel himself slipping into unconsciousness again because of it. Wolffe tries to stay awake and hear what his medic is saying.

“-clean out the wound. Clear out any debris before I can patch it up.”

“General, they need help finishing up on the East side of the compound,” Sinker says.

“Go, Cardio and I can look after Wolffe until med-evac can get here,” he pauses, then adds more forcefully, “Go. Both of you.”

“Yessir,” Boost and Sinker reply. Wolffe feels more hands on each of his shoulders and figures in helmets above him, though he can’t judge how close they are to him. “Good to see you again, Commander.”

“I-” He lifts his other arm to reach for his brothers but they’re already gone. He notices bacta around his wrist as his arm comes into view. Plo isn’t holding this arm down. Wolffe brings it to ghost over his face, to see what damage has been done to his right side.

Plo wraps his three fingers around Wolffe’s hand but it’s too late. He felt the burnt scarring around his eye. What used to be his eye.

The memory of Ventress slashing it out in rage returns. With it comes the searing pain his mind had been mercifully blocking out. “Ahh!”

Cardio is rinsing the wound out with something. He can feel every molecule of saline as it rinses out his empty eye socket. Plo grips him tighter as he writhes on the floor.

“I know, I know, just a little longer,” Plo tells him. Wolffe whimpers and he is glad Boost and Sinker aren’t seeing him like this. Luckily his General is right, and soon enough a bacta patch covers the right side of his face. Plo uses the sleeve of his robe to wipe sweat and blood off of his forehead and tears off of his cheeks.

Plo gathers Wolffe into his arms and places him gently onto a hoverstretcher. He stays in Wolffe’s limited line of sight at they pass through more red-lit hallways. Wolffe feels the familiar wave of Plo sending calm and peace into his mind, and while it usually helps at the end of a stressful battle, it does nothing for him now. All he feels is failure.

Because despite what Boost assured him, Wolffe thinks Ventress might have succeeded in breaking him. Without an eye, what use is he?

#febuwhump2022 #febuwhump #tcw #star wars #commander wolffe #plo kloon #boost and sinker #whump

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knightprincess · 3 years ago

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Cadet Training (The Bad Batch)

Words: 3166

Warning: None but a lot of hurt/comfort (I think)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cadet training for the clones was never easy. Although it was just about bearable for the regular clones. It was constant torment for Clone Force 99. They never got a day off from training like others did. From the moment they had been able to begin training, it had been non stop, a constant pressure to succeed, to obey the orders given or face punishment.

TECH Tech's training consisted of testing his knowledge. He'd be hooked up to an array of machines, some to monitor his brain waves, other his heart rate and blood pressure. Another that would give him a nasty shock. Once he was hooked up the testing began, he was normally given questions on the screens before him, he had a certain amount of time to answer them. If he succeeded, another question would appear. If he was to fail, he would receive a electric shock. If he ever asked for it to stop, the instructor would only up the power. Being sure to stop before he lost consciousness. As soon as the shocks stopped he was told to get back to his feet and continue. Maker help him should he ask for a bathroom break or any break in general. On the days he wasn't facing the quizzes, then he was normally dragged to the medical bay, to undergo horrendous scans. The worst part always being he could feel everything they did. The pain being unbearable, the few times he was able to get strangled words out, he was always calling for his brothers, begging them to make it stop and rescue him from the constant pain. He'd be poked and prodded with needles and other things as if he was a pin cushion. Normally thirsty and hungry as he would be denied food and drink for hours before these scans and tests. If he was to say he was hungry or needed a drink, he would be harshly told to be silent and wait.

When it was over it was a struggle to even walk, most of the time he used the walls to prop himself up on his way to where ever wanted to go. His words would be slurred, the best he could do with the splitting headache to be blurring his vision. He'd struggle to hold eating utensils when in the mess hall, only just being able to grip the cup to drink something. After a while he'd give up completely and settle for returning to the barracks, another night of going hungry. Crosshair would never allow it and always followed behind his younger brother, helping Tech along to ensure he got there safely. Upon making sure Tech got to his bunk, he retrieve a few ration bars, ensuring Tech didn't go hungry. WRECKER Wrecker's training wasn't as bad as his brothers to look at. He'd be constantly pushed to his limit with blasters, bombs and other explosives. Often being sent to the training rooms to test his skills against droids. If he was ever hit by one, the course would be reset until he got it right. Often times had he missed meal times because of this. He'd be forced to repeat the disarming over and over again, until he got it right first time. Yet he hated destroying things that had meaning to him. Like one time an instructor noticed his original tooka doll and picture of his brothers. Both had been stuffed into a metal box with little care, a detonator thrown in with them.

That day he'd been tasked with disarming an bomb within a time limit. If he succeeded, he'd get the things taken from him back. If he failed then the blast would destroy the small metal box and the things stuffed so carelessly inside. That day had broke Wrecker, losing the photo was like losing his brothers, he cried himself to sleep that night, believing he had failed them. Although a new Tooka doll had appeared on his bunk, a small tag in messy writing saying its name was Lula.

Wreckers worst training session by far was the one where he was training with blasters. He'd only spoken of his exhaustion and strains before then. But that day his trainer had dragged Hunter, Tech and Crosshair to the firing range. He been informed their lives were on the line this time, they would be on the firing range, between each target. If he missed any target his brothers would ended up being hit. Wrecker had protested as did his brothers, their lives were in his hands, he knew his brothers trusted him, but he didn't want that responsibility just yet. He didn't want to hurt them in any way.

He knew it would be difficult, with the trainer tying each of his brothers to a make shift stake between each target, blind folding them so they couldn't see what was happening. To Wrecker it was like they were set to be executed by firing squad, like they were the criminals and he was the executor, like he was the hand that would bring swift death. He tried so hard to protest against it, refusing, even when his train held a gun to his head, even when he was smacked in the face with the butt of the gun he still refused.

He eventually fired upon hearing the encouraging words of his brothers. Hearing they trusted him and believed him even when he didn't believe in himself. Although he had hit every target, he'd come dangerously close to each of them. A bolt had hit just to the right of Crosshair, mere inches from his shoulder, another had been close to hitting Hunter, the bolt hitting the wall above him, where as Tech's had missed by inches, instead hitting the floor in front of him. A comment or two had escaped the train's lips, yet nothing of support but instead patronizing him further, stamping out the confidence he had gained. Something to do with a gag for his brothers next time.

Tech, Crosshair and Hunter had all bared witness to Wrecker's beating that day. Tied helpless to the make shift stakes as he was beaten for his words in response to the sadistic trainer, beaten for standing up for himself and them. Despite their efforts to free themselves, they had been force to listen as Wrecker shouted for it to stop and screamed in agonizing pain when the side of his face was held to one of the metal containers, mere seconds before it exploded. The Trainer didn't seem to care, instead pulling the crying Wrecker to his feet afterwards, ignoring the pleas to be left alone. Nala Se had been the rescuer that day, investigating upon hearing Wrecker scream. She took him with her, ordering Tech, Crosshair and Hunter to be freed and sent back to their barracks.

Despite her best efforts Nala Se couldn't save Wrecker from permanent scaring. She kept him in her lab for days, doing her best to take away his pain as she removed shrapnel and his left eye. Replacing the eye with a cybernetic one. Her examinations showing he'd be partially death in the left ear. Yet she had also showed kindness, even more so when she had taken the punishment of the Bounty Hunter into her own hands, ensuring he wouldn't be heartless to one of her special five again.

CROSSHAIR Crosshair's training normally consisted of being isolated for days on end. His accuracy was beyond that of any other, so his path of a sniper had been chosen for him. Forced on him even. At first it would be overnight stays in the training facilities, perched in a snipers nest, flat on his stomach, he'd be allowed breaks to move around and join the others in the mess hall. But as time went by, the conditions got worse. He'd be denied simple breaks to stretch his limbs, bathroom trips or even sleep. Food and water became a method to reward him for his good work in training.

After a while the trips to the training facility wasn't enough. His instructor insisting he needed something more real. So would take him out to a landing pad in the constant rain, there he'd be tasked with eliminating all distractions and fire on his fellow cadets, each time they'd be unaware. If Crosshair was to refuse then he'd be beaten, stamped on and other things, at times his own instructor had used a electric torture device to deliver a shock, all in an attempt to get him to comply. If he still refused a loaded gun would be held to the side of his head, or he'd be put in some sort of strangle hold. Crosshair had bones broken one more than one occasion. Normally ribs, wrist, ankle and fingers.

Many a times Crosshair had been taken outside in the pouring rain, without cover, food or water, he'd be left their for days, only being sent a location of his target, normally another cadet but occasionally a fully trained trooper would would fire back. He was tasked to stun them all. To make it easier, his instructor told him to make up stories about them, to make himself think they deserved it, he was told to ignore his guilt over firing at them and ignore they were clones just like him. Instead he was told to think of it like a game, with everyone he stunned he'd be earning the right of bathroom use, of food and water, of being able to return to his barracks and see his brothers again.

But it only got worse. Eventually stunning his fellow cadets and fully trained troopers wasn't enough anymore. His instructor wanted him to use live rounds, to potentially kill them. He was branded as teaching them a lesson, of setting an example to other cadets who misbehaved. Every time Crosshair refused he was met with a brutal beating, already weak from days without food and lying flat on his stomach. Already weak from his countless other beating from answering back with snarky comments. He'd been denied medical attention until he completed his training session.

When he was sent to the med bay, he found no comfort. It was made perfectly clear to him by the elegant Kaminoans he wasn't welcome there, they tolerated him a best, doing the bare minimum to ease his pain and ensuring his injuries and wounds would heal. Pain killers weren't a luxury extended to him, instead he felt the pain, eventually growing to accept it as a companion, refusing to show it to another unless he couldn't bare it any longer.

By far his worst training session was when he was up on the landing platform, the rain pelting down on him, hardly bothered him anymore. He was told via a comm link four targets were heading into his directory, he was to shoot them. At first Crosshair was certain he wouldn't have a problem with it, he grown used to using cadets and troopers as a target practice. Yet this time was different, the targets in question was a fully grown trooper and three cadets. Tech, Hunter and Wrecker along with ninety-nine. Almost instantly Crosshair yelled he couldn't, no wouldn't fire on them. They were his brothers and one of the few who actually showed care to him. Ninety-Nine had named each of them, treated them like he did with all the other cadets, with care and loved. Always helping them with something.

His instructor had come on to his landing pad after that, demanding he shoot all four to kill. Stamping on Crosshair's back when he refused, the beating when on for quite some time. Only stopping when Crosshair had managed to grab his rifle and point it had the vicious man tasked with training him. Even then no emotion escaped his blush pink features. Instead his instructor called him names, often accompanied by the words useless and defect. Through it all Crosshair would yell even scream he didn't want to kill his brothers, loud enough they could hear him and pin point his location, loud enough they would know what they're being used for this time.

The nightmares were always the worst part of his torture. They were the mental scars of his training. When he was actually allowed to sleep, he'd been tormented by the nightmares, a scenario being played out where he'd have to hunt his brothers, torture them for information and eventually kill them in a public way. Every time he'd wake up screaming he didn't want to kill them. Each time Wrecker would offer him Lula, as comfort. Tech would reassure him it was just a dream and they were all there, alive and well. Where as Hunter would stay by his side until he fell back to sleep. The cycle would repeat itself several times over, each time the stun setting on the gun becoming more appealing, until Crosshair would eventually give up on the idea of sleep. Instead he would be content watching over his brothers and reading something on Tech's data-pad, all while playing with Hunter's knife and protecting Lula for Wrecker.

HUNTER Hunter's training mainly centered around his senses and tracking. Much like Crosshair it was far more physical than most. Although he'd also find himself locked in a lab for what was supposed to be testing but felt more like his own personal brand of torture. His favorite training was when he got to spend time with his brothers. Normally when they were in training facilities together, going through different scenarios. They worked well as a team and was sure to let his tired brothers know it.

His training as an individual however he hated, with a vengeance. Often times was Crosshair the one he had to track, with the order to subdue my any means necessary. Every time his sharp eyed brother would be under the impression the person coming would be trying to kill him, as if he'd been brain washed. Each time he would be in for a fight even when Crosshair had been starved for days. He'd always say I'm sorry before stunning him, he'd hold his brother close, maker knows what would happen to him for being caught.

The days in the lab he hated most. Mostly due to be stuck in some kind of tub, helpless to do anything as Tech yelled for help and for someone to save him. In his tub he'd be subjected to a manor of different things, noises only he could hear, with a pitch high enough to frazzle his hearing for days. Smells powerful enough to burn his air ways and leave a metal tinged after taste in his mouth. multi-color lights so bright, he would be blinded and couldn't see the Kaminoan outside the tube. He's be left with lights flashing behind his eyes long after the bright lights had been turned off.

When not in the tube, he would be strapped to a table like Tech, poked and prodded, different tests administered. He'd always know when they were due, being forbidden from drinking or eating anything for hours before hand. His struggles only resulted in pain, multiple times he'd been struck with something across his midsection. The blow hard enough he could feel his ribs crunch beneath the object, and the air leave his lungs from the pure shock of it. He'd always think of his brothers in those times. Think about needing to be strong for them, so he could help them when they all returned to the barracks.

Although even those thoughts had been used against him. Manipulated to serve a purpose. Countless times had the Kaminoans in the lab put goggles on him while strapped to the lab table. They'd play videos of his brother's training, specifically when they would be punished for failing, answering back to the instructors or just doing something considered out of line. Each time it was when he wasn't there to save them or when he was unable to get to them. The clips of Tech when he was being electrocuted in his tests or yelling out from pain during his lab stints. Wrecker's being his scarring injury or when he'd been called every name under the sun, being hit with objects and humiliated by his awful instructor. Where as Crosshair's was pretty much every training session, when he was starved for days, beaten and berated, shocked and had guns held to his head or a knife to his throat. Where the people he loved most were used against him.

One such occasion where the videos were shown to him. Hunter had yelled out for it to stop, as always being ignored, so he had constantly belted the side of his head off the equipment so close to him, shattering the goggles. The Kaminoans had removed the remnants afterwards scolding him, as the injuries sustained were patched up. Although it would leave a scar as a reminder, a scar he'd eventually hide beneath his trademark bandanna. Yet he always felt as he deserved the scar as it reminded him of the times he failed to protect his brothers.

Returning to the barracks after those tube tests was never easy. The lights in the halls were always bright enough to blind him, to the point he would hold his hands out and feel his way around to find his way back. Countless times had the bleach smell to radiate through the Military facilities burn his air ways, making it hard for him to breath. Tech would always help by turning the lights down to the lowest setting possible, although that was to help Crosshair too. He'd also find a sweet smelling fragrance of some kind, normally vanilla and cover the bleach smell in their room with it. Although their private barracks always had the smell of home. A cross between engine oil and gun powder.

Yet still he felt the need to protect his brothers. Guiding Tech to his bunk and putting the data-pad at a safe distance on the table in the center of the room. He'd make sure Wrecker had a picture of them together near him and his favorite blanket and Lola if Crosshair didn't have it. As for Crosshair, he'd always be there when he woke up screaming from nightmares, just as he knew when Crosshair had gotten his knife as something to hold on to. Yet he didn't say anything as it gave both comfort. Getting to sleep on the other hand was a far more difficult task. Often times he'd wait until his brothers were asleep, or at least Tech and Wrecker. More often than not he'd end up crying himself to sleep, knowing the only one to hear would be Crosshair, who often helped by placing a hand on his shoulder while pulling his blankets up to keep him warm. Crosshair being their somehow eased the pain and sent him into a somewhat peaceful sleep.

#Star Wars #clone force 99 #the bad batch #cadet training #cadets #kamino #Tech #wrecker #Crosshair #hunter #Clones #Clone Cadets

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phvnthom · 3 years ago

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A Complete Analysis of Selim

If you're not quite aware of who I'm talking about (like I was), let me enlighten you. Selim is the main antagonist in Miles Morales' very own Clone Saga on issues #25 through #28. Raised since infancy to be the perfect weapon— both cold and calculating— he's seemingly presented to the audience as some heartless monster, but despite appearances, he's really not.

At least, I'd like to think so.

Right out of the gate Selim says it himself.

After he captures Miles he states how he was raised in a hostile environment that never cared about him. He feels wronged by the world and knew no actual love from anyone. He has no real identity and was created solely to be a weapon (the only thing he remains attached to is his name, translated simply from Arabic as 'undamaged' or as he says to Miles upon first meeting him: "We are you. But better.")

It's understandable then, given his background, that he'd have contempt for the world and see it as a slaughter house, because from the beginning that's the only thing The Assessor ever saw him as. Not even a sentient full-fledged human with feelings, but a product. Personally, even with all of this as a starting point, I still don't think he's evil. Not completely, at least. After all, Selim was literally placed in the perfect environment to make a highly intelligent, violent, narcissistic, and extremely capable sociopath. One we continuously see use whatever methods and tools are available to him to accomplish his goals.

And yet, through it all, even while enduring torture and indoctrination and being neglected— through all that trauma— he still recognized that his brothers had it worse. Selim saw them suffer more than he did. And yeah, you can say it's just basic common sense on Selim's part to have as much manpower as he possibly could to ensure a successful getaway, but later on he makes it clear that he was genuinely looking out for their best interests and doing what he thought would ensure that they all made it out alive. No matter what.

So he could've escaped alone and left Shift and Mindspinner to rot, but he didn't. Selim took them with him, and then on top of that, he made sure that they all lived through their escape.

Which stated above was only done in a week. So, not exactly a last second decision, but still rushed enough to know they were in a time crunch, and even worse, that all of them could potentially die/be figured out before they even attempted it. So huge risk. But then again, huge reward.

From there we can (maybe) make an assumption that Selim feels a deep resentment for not only his situation and how he was raised, but by Miles having a normal childhood, and thus the world for how "gullible and weak" they are. He feels they need reform and to be made strong. The apex of evolution. To be weak means not to be worthy of being alive, and since he's so traumatized (and doesn't even realize it), those desires blind him to the truth and to the idea of there being a different way of life that doesn't mean control, suffering, or being endlessly in survival mode.

At their final fight, Selim's main (and arguably, his only) concern is to prove that he is worthy. But subconsciously, I think it was actually to prove to himself that all that suffering he endured did have a purpose. That it made him the best out of all of them and a real person, and ultimately, better than even Miles and his own circumstances, because he had earned everything he was ever forced to be.

Selim feels such deep hatred that he doesn't even register he's aiming it at the wrong thing, and worse, he doesn't have the knowledge/mental maturity to understand his own emotions or where they're coming from. He thinks it's just an obvious way to prove his worth, but instead Miles is right. Selim doesn't have enough brain development or emotional intelligence to recognize that he's acting out of fear. That fear being that all those days and weeks and then months of total brainwashing were all for nothing. He was literally made to suffer, and even more humiliating was being potentially beaten by the one thing he was made to be better than and destroy— his one purpose. And he failed. It was all for nothing.

Which brings me to my next point.

Selim does feel other emotions and displays them, but again because of ✨trauma✨ and his general upbringing, he was raised not to show them or feel them. He's incredibly stunted in every developmental way that matters. He had no enrichment, no one to teach him values or how to display healthy emotions. So what's the easiest thing to express and the one that feels the most direct and easy to understand? Anger. And Selim has a lot of it.

In this first panel, before he realizes what Miles has done, the first emotion he experiences isn't rage, but sadness. He's completely crushed by what Miles did to them. It's the only panel that shows how much this mattered to him and how distressed he truly was at the loss of their one chance of salvation. And despite all his training, Selim (involuntarily) has tears in his eyes and is the closest he ever comes to looking like Miles.

Just like the rest of the other two clones, Miles is a part of him and he'll never be able to remove the humanity that Miles gave him from out of him.

And that sadness and deep resentment and absolute hatred for a world that never once cared for them and which they weren't taught to value, comes out as rage. It's borderline explosive. To the point where he's unwilling to listen to Miles because all his life he was taught that everyone is merely a target to be dealt with.

That kind of brutality and clinical way of thinking made him turn out to be a person that neither trusts nor loves anything. Because it's weakness. And being weak or showing any feeling that looks remotely like it will always be a point of exploitation. It hurts, and if allowed to do enough damage, it could get him killed... because again, all it ever did was betray him. And thus Selim's way of thinking and his behavior in reaction to those threats is not only repeatedly reinforced as correct, but necessary.

So what happens???

Selim only starts targeting Miles when he thinks he tried to actively sabotage them. The first time he attacked was as a courtesy to tell him to stay out of their way (and which only came to a fight when Miles touched him after the conversation had already been indicated to be over, and which Selim then took immediate insult at). He could've killed Miles the first time around or gone after his whole family from the beginning, but that wasn't Selim's priority. For some reason, he warned Miles first before the aggressions started.

Only after it all comes to a head do Selim's motivations take a turn and finally change his course of action from the original plan:

"But there is still time to hurt those who hurt us."

That's what Selim says to Miles last, because in his mind it's more than just revenge, it's the most logical thing to go for the jugular and completely devastate the enemy before they can strike again... or else they'll hurt you and prey on your weaknesses to destroy everything you care for. And though it's not a lot for Selim because he wasn't given the chance to care for anything, the one thing he did care for was for the chance to live and to potentially be something else than what he was made to be.

So in Selim's mind, it's completely justified and fair what he's doing.

He's not committing atrocities, he's just ensuring his survival.

Which brings us to the final point:

At the end of the day they are all Miles' clones. Both Shift and Mindspinner recognize it, and I believe that if Selim wasn't as severely traumatized and emotionally stunted as he was, he would realize that it's true for him too. He just doesn't take the time to analyze it or let it overtake his instincts. He calls Rio our mother and plans to raise Billie himself. More than just to be cruel, but to cultivate her in his ideal image and raise her with the strength he perceives Miles to lack— and even more, to deprive Miles of the opportunity to make any sort of difference or to allow him to continue to live when he's the defect and the failed one.

It makes sense then that Selim has a dormant piece of Miles' personality in him that he just isn't smart enough to utilize. Even with how tactically intelligent he is in combat, pretending that simple fact doesn't matter is his biggest moral and logical failure. Selim can't even see the truth when it's in front of him, and for that, he ensures his own downfall. He's betrayed by society, he's betrayed by his "father" and by the notion of a normal childhood, he's betrayed by Miles, and ultimately in the end, he's betrayed by his own family.

A family which he's spent the entirety of his short life fighting to protect.

He's completely alone and he's dying. But instead of feeling that hurt, he lashes out with a classic case of 'total trauma response'. All Selim knows is how to be a weapon, and with nothing to lose, he betrays the world again just like he perceives it to already have betrayed him.

Because after all that time, Selim would rather die than be one of them, especially when Miles is his enemy and the perpetrator of all the suffering he endured. And in that hurt he rejects what he had probably always wanted: family, or perhaps more accurately, total freedom from his past and separation from the hand he was dealt with.

If not that, then why warn Miles and give a proper introduction ("My name is Selim. These are my brothers. It is time we talked.") when it would've been more advantageous to ambush Miles and finish him off before he could get the chance stop them? Why else would he say he'd raise Billie after they're all gone? Why not just kill her and do well on his initial threat instead of taking responsibility for raising a literal baby? Why would he make sure that Shift and Mindspinner survived all this time and find a cure for the three of them if it wasn't to take care of them? Why did he call them his brothers if he's so mindless and cruel that he just sees them as a means to an end? Because he doesn't. Selim cared for them. Miles' influence is so strong inside him that even when he thinks he's being tactical and 'so' smart and the perfect weapon, he isn't. The strongest thing inside of him was Miles, and because he chose to repress that, he loses.

Even Miles himself said it after Selim questioned Shift's motives: "There's nothing wrong with him. He just knows. He knows Billie's our sister. It's been in the back of his head since we met— same as it's been in yours."

Without meaning to, Selim cared so much it made him bitter, and the most heartbreaking thing is that he doesn't even realize it.

What he does understand is all the ways he was wronged, and what circumstances created him.

And despite his horrible and cruel upbringing, Selim also does recognize evil. Especially with what he has to say about The Assessor: "Every cruel and brutal thing he did to you, original one, he also did to us. I say 'he,' but it is no man. It is an evil algorithm. Exploitation itself given life."

So Selim knows what evil looks like, he knows how it operates, and he knows when things are wrong (or when they're being done for the wrong reasons). He's so broken that he can't even comprehend how what he's doing could be seen as "evil" since in his mind, he's just doing what he was taught.

Or more precisely, Selim truly believes it's not evil at all because it's completely justified. It's not a matter of revenge, it's a matter of "fair" and righting a wrong. A warped sense of justice… which again, probably comes from Miles and which Selim doesn't even recognize as being such a motivator that it drives his every personality trait.

So there, to the best of my ability, is Selim completely deconstructed.

#god this post is so fucking long and it took over 3½ hours to get right #so god fucking bless #i only did this because of one person and i might never do it again #it deleted my progress ¾ of the way through so thanks #also im so so so sorry this post is so long #marvel #selim #shift #mindspinner #miles morales #Spider-Man #long post

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embeanwrites · 4 years ago

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Ner Jetii

Masterlist

A/N: Everyday I cycle through falling in love with a different clone from The Clone Wars tv show, it seems today it’s Sergeant Hunter from Clone Force 99...

Mando Translations:

Ner Jetii: My Jedi

Hunter remained still in his uncomfortable chair as he reviewed Tech’s footage of their Jetii saving his brothers from falling into the freezing water once again.

“Tell Hunter, he was right and I’m sorry!” Her voice was staticky through the video and Hunter couldn’t help but watching the next part in slow motion. She held out her arms and used the force to push Tech and Crosshair off the cracking ice, the displacement of weight caused the ice to finally crack, plunging the Jetii into the freezing water with a scream. He had been torturing himself for the past two hours of trying to find another way that he could have changed the outcome if he was there.

He was forced to stay on the Havoc Marauder for this scouting mission, which he hated. He didn’t want them to go, she ran cold as it is and was used to desert planets. They didn’t have the proper equipment to keep her warm outside the ship for very long. He could’ve gone with them, but he let their fight keep him here. He felt angry that she wasn’t listening, even if she outranked him. Didn’t she know he just wanted to keep her safe?

And look where it got him.

The moment Wrecker ran onto the ship holding your pale wet unconscious body, Hunter felt as if he couldn’t breathe. His senses strained to barely hear their heartbeat over everyone else’s pounding and arguing over what to do.

That was hours ago, in Hunter’s frozen state his brothers handle everything quickly. Wrecker and Crosshair took her to the ships med station and begun wrapping them up and hooking them up to machines as Tech readied the ship to make its way to the nearest GAR medical outpost.

“She’s tough.” Tech said as he sat next to Hunter as he slowly shut off the video of the incident. Hunter nodded halfheartedly at his brother’s words. He was surprised Wrecker wasn’t sitting outside her hospital door with him, maybe his brothers understood that while she was their teammate, she was beginning to mean something much more to Hunter.

“I should’ve been there.” Hunter whispered hoarsely as he dropped his head into his hands.

“Sarge, there’s nothing you could have done differently. If you had gone, she would have pushed you off the ice as well and you couldn’t have grabbed her, the water was cold enough to shock her system and Wreckers even when he knew it was coming. With your elevated senses, I can’t even begin to- “

“Alright, Tech. I get it. I would have been useless on the ship or off the ship.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Hunter.” Tech said with a sigh. Looking up to see one of the nurses leave the room.

“She’s awake.” The nurse said softly. “Technically, I shouldn’t let anyone in, but she asked to see you, Hunter.” The nurse gestured towards the Sarge who quickly stood up, whispered a thank you, and walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

The first thing Hunter noticed was the lights were dimmer in here than the hallway, and despite the constant machine beeping he could hear in the hallway, hers was unplugged, knowing her, she did it herself. He noted she was sitting up, looking exhausted and messing with her lightsaber. She looked up as he closed the door, she held up her lightsaber.

“I think the cold water messed with my saber.” She whispered with a small smile. Hunter walked over and sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to bump her. He watched her look down as she fiddled with the black and silver hilt. “I’m sorry.” She murmured, still not looking at him.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He responded hoarsely, trying his best to sound sincere, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

“I should’ve listened to you; I didn’t even think about ice. I just…I wanted to prove to you I’m not useless and I don’t need babysitting.” She whispered; Hunter looked up to see she was starting to cry.

“I don’t think you need babysitting and I certainly don’t think you’re useless.” Hunter slowly moved closer to her and put his hand on top of hers, causing her to look up at him. He felt his face heat up under her unblinking stare. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad earlier, I just worry because…”

“Because you have feelings for me.” She murmured, catching him off guard.

“How did you know?” He responded quickly causing her to chuckle.

“Jedi, remember?” He let out a low chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. She slowly moved to hold his not hurt hand and interlaced their fingers. “Hunter, I like you too, but-“

“But the order, I know and who knows how the GAR would even react. I’d probably be decommissioned and- “

“Hunter. That’s not what I was going to say. You know better than anyone that I don’t get along with the order.” She removed one of her hands and gently stroked his cheek with his tattoo. “I mean how many other Jedi’s do you know who would be willing to work with you four as much I do. I’m pretty sure the council assigned me with you all just so they wouldn’t have to deal with me as often.” Hunter watched her take a deep breath. “The but is we have a war to win, we can’t run away.” She murmured, causing Hunter to nod. Her next moved surprised Hunter.

She leaned forward so her forehead was pressed against his. A Keldabe kiss. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the sensation of her touching him or the fact she understood what she was doing.

“Tech told me.” She answered his unvoiced question. His eyes widened and her face turned bright red. “No not like that! I just wanted to learn more about Mandalorian culture.” She grumbled; Hunter laughed.

“You know, we don’t have to run away to be together.” He murmured, causing her to smile.

“I know.” She agreed, he noticed that her eyes we’re starting to close.

“You’re exhausted, get some sleep.” He whispered, kissing her cheek softly. “I’ll be outside.” He attempted to release her hand, but she grabbed him tighter.

“Stay?” She asked, causing him to freeze. They both remained silent as he stared at her hand. “I’m sorry, your senses and it’s probably too soon and-“

“I’ll stay.” Hunter watched her smile grow and she shifted to the other side of the bed. He slowly laid down next to her and felt her immediately cuddle up to him.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

#hunter x reader bad batch #bad batch #hunter x reader #clone wars #star wars #bad batch x reader #tech #wrecker #crosshair #x reader #clone wars season 7

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xecutivecucumber · 3 years ago

Text

Rexsoka Week 2021 Day 7: FUBAR

I hope everyone enjoyed my Rexsoka week contributions. I've had a lot of fun with them. Thanks for all the support!

This one is a little less focused on their relationship and more on the...effed up part of things.

TW: Non Graphic Torture

Day 7: FUBAR

Rex had hung for hours. They'd stripped him of his armor and blacks. His arms were wrenched upward and over a horizontal bar of metal. His legs were forced in an uncomfortable position, as if he was doing a squat midair. Most of his weight was on his bent knees. The device he was entangled with seemed to be a relic of the Separatists.

Rex had no hope of getting out of here alive. It would be foolish to go so deep into Imperial territory for one soldier, even as high ranking as he was. And Rex prided himself with the knowledge that he would never give any sensitive information away.

They'd started the normal Imperial interrogation process with him, using an IT-0 droid to try and get him to talk. Rex was better than that. The clones had been trained to resist the mundane mind probe that the droids used.

But then they had stopped. Some higher up wanted to interrogate Rex themselves, and Rex was to be untouched until they got there.

So Rex hung. The pain of his shoulders and knees was probably more effective than what any of the average Imperial idiots could inflict. By the whispered tones of the Imps in charge of him, whoever was coming for Rex was far from average.

Rex didn't fear pain. He'd been under extreme distress, physical, mental, and emotional, before. He hadn't broken then. He wouldn't break now.

Finally, the door slid open, and a tall, dark figure swept in. Its head was covered in a helmet that hid any trace of humanity. The sound of rasping breathing accompanied it, as if each breath was forced in and out of the thing's body. It stared at Rex, and Rex was so transfixed by its blank stare that he almost didn't notice the thing's companion.

A clone, holding his black helmet at his side, with greying hair and a wandering scar down the left side of his face.

Rex's breath caught.

"Cody? " He asked.

He didn't need it confirmed. It was Cody. Rex could never forget his ori'vod's face.

It seemed that Cody had forgotten Rex. He looked Rex over with a blank stare. His chip was still active.

"Captain Rex." The dark figure said in a deep, robotic voice that nudged something in Rex's memory. "You were listed as killed in action."

"Well," Rex said, though he could not tear his eyes from Cody's face. "Reports can be wrong."

"Yes." The figure said. "It seems so. Which leads me to believe that others that were believed dead may yet be alive."

Rex tried not to let his fear show in his face. He knew who this man wanted.

"Tell me." The figure stepped forward. "Where is Ahsoka Tano?"

Rex managed to look away from his brother and into the figure's helmeted face.

"Ahsoka Tano is dead." He said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"I see." The figure said. "Commander, you may begin."

"Yes, Lord Vader." Cody said.

In a fluid movement he withdrew an electrostaff and slammed it into Rex's side. Rex hissed through his teeth as he felt ribs break. Then the electricity began coursing through his body in burning waves. Rex’s jaw clenched involuntarily, keeping him from making much noise.

Rex fell limp as Cody finally drew the staff away.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" Vader asked again.

Rex struggled to lift his head.

"She's dead." He said.

Vader stared at him for a long time before turning to Cody.

"Continue."

Ahsoka stole through the halls of the Imperial facility. Rex was here somewhere. At least, that’s what she prayed. The chances of him surviving at the hands of the Imperials seven days were-

Ahsoka refused to let herself dwell on it.

She paused at a corner when she heard the idle chatter of two TK troopers nearby.

"I wish Lord Vader would hurry up and kill the wretch." One complained. "Patrolling the detention level is becoming a real pain."

"Gives me a headache." The other grumbled. "Judging by its screams, I doubt it can last much longer."

Ahsoka's heart quickened. He was alive. She waited for the troopers to move past and quickly made her way to the nearest lift. The Force guided her hands to hit level B3.

The lift opened and Ahsoka felt sick. Rex's screams were echoing throughout the hallway. There was something else; whatever was torturing him was a Force user. A powerful and Dark one at that.

Ahsoka grit her teeth. There went her plan to go in sabers blazing. She edged closer to the area from which Rex's noises of distress were coming from. Soon she could make out words.

" SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD!" Rex was screaming.

So that's what they wanted to know. Ahsoka tried to reach for Rex's mind, but it was saturated with pain, oblivious to everything but the torture being inflicted on him.

Ahsoka found a storage closet adjacent to the room Rex was in. She would have to wait this out, no matter how badly she wanted to stop Rex's tormentors.

After a while Rex's screams turned to sobs, and the words he said changed.

" Kote, vod, gedet'ye!"

Cody, brother, please.

Ahsoka's heart clenched as she translated the words in her head. He was calling for Cody. She prayed that he was seeing some delusion, and that Cody was not playing a part in his torture.

His sobs began to fade. Ahsoka pressed a montral to the wall. A door opened and shut. Ahsoka waited a minute before unsheathing her sabers. She drew them in a circle in the wall and forced the cut section forward. The room she stepped into was overly bright. The floor was tacky and pinkish. Ahsoka swallowed bile before looking at the back of the room.

Rex was twisted around a metal frame, forced into what looked like an excruciating position. He was mostly naked, save for his grey undershorts. It seemed there wasn't a bit of skin that wasn't bruised, burned, or cut. Blood ran in dribbles from fresh slashes on his chest. He didn't look up as she approached him. His head lolled forwards.

" She's dead. " He whispered through chapped lips. " Kote, gedet'ye, she's dead. "

Ahsoka shook herself and wasted no more time in releasing him from his bindings. He'd lost weight in the few days he'd been here, and Ahsoka easily lifted him. A soft groan escaped him as she shouldered most of his weight.

"It's okay, Rex." Ahsoka promised him. "It's over now."

It would be. Even if they were caught, the answer the Imperials wanted was given by her presence. There would be no need to continue his interrogations.

Of course, they could always use him against her.

She quickly scanned near her. There was one guard nearby. The dark presence was getting further away.

Ahsoka set Rex down before slipping out the door. The startled guard didn't have time to make a noise before Ahsoka slammed him against the wall. He crumpled. Ahsoka retrieved Rex and started their painfully slow way down the corridor.

Rex occasionally made soft noises of pain as she jostled him. They got to the turbolift with no incidents. Ahsoka could sense the guards on the level on which her stolen Imperial shuttle was docked. There weren’t many, and by some miracle of the Force she managed to get Rex to the hangar without being seen. He let out a pitiful groan as she quickened her pace.

"I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispered. "We're almost out. Just-"

The dark presence suddenly reappeared, looming between them and the shuttle.

Ahsoka had no time, not with Rex's dead weight, to move before the man to which the presence belonged stepped from behind another ship. If it could be called a man. It seemed more like a droid.

"Ahsoka Tano." It said. "Captain Rex has become a more convincing liar. I almost believed him when he said you were dead."

Ahsoka tensed. She would not leave Rex. But she didn't see a way out of this.

"Something I'm sure you're eager to rectify." Ahsoka spat.

"There is a way for you to survive. For you both to survive." It said. "Join the Empire and you will both live."

"And become whatever you are? No." Ahsoka said.

The figure did not immediately attack.

"You think this path leads to anything else?" It asked. "Your attachment to the clone is far too deep."

"I'm sure it was only attachment that made you fall." Ahsoka said.

Her mind raced. What could she do? She would not leave Rex, but she couldn’t move quickly with his weight. And this thing was powerful .

"I see that you are resolved." The thing said. "Then I offer you this. Surrender, and I will give you both painless deaths."

For half a moment Ahsoka was tempted. Rex's pain was saturating the Force. She didn't want him to hurt anymore. And she saw no way out.

Her hesitation was seen as a refusal. The thing reached out a clawed hand. Ahsoka tensed, but nothing touched her. Rex, on the other hand, stiffened. Ahsoka nearly dropped him as he struggled for air.

"No!" Ahsoka said. "I didn't-"

A blaster shot rang through the hangar. The thing whirled to the side and deflected it with a hand. Rex relaxed.

Ahsoka only paused long enough to see a familiar clone pointing a blaster at the thing. She drew upon the Force and darted forward, past the figure who was concerned with blocking the barrage of blaster fire raining down on it.

"No more!" She heard Cody shout. " No more! "

She reached out briefly to try to connect with Cody and found a shattered mind. Whatever they had done to Rex had been too much for him.

Ahsoka dragged Rex the last few feet to the shuttle.

"Now, R-7!" She shouted.

The shuttle's door began to rise. Right before it shut, Ahsoka saw the Dark creature shear through Cody's chest with a blood red blade.

There was no med bay in the Imperial shuttle, so Ahsoka had to lay Rex on a clean sheet in the middle of the passenger bay. It had taken nearly two hours to dress Rex's injuries. Ahsoka had to set his broken fingers, wrap his ribs, and put bacta on every burn and laceration. He began to stir as she was finishing wrapping the cut up soles of his feet.

He groaned as he shifted, eyes opening to a slit.

"'Soka." He mumbled.

He struggled to lift himself.

"Shhh." Ahsoka said, gently easing himself back down. "Lie still."

She began running her fingers through his short hair in a hopefully soothing manner. He closed his eyes again and his head sagged to the side.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Hurts." He slurred.

Ahsoka frowned. She already had him on pretty heavy painkillers. She couldn't give him more, but she hated that he was still in pain.

She continued to massage his head. She hoped he was heading back to sleep.

"Cody?" He asked.

Ahsoka felt sick at his hopeful tone.

"I'm so sorry, Rex." She said. "He didn't make it."

Rex didn't say anything at first. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Was it-" He struggled to form the words. "You?"

Ahsoka moved her hand to the side of his face.

"That thing killed him." Ahsoka said. "He died so we could escape."

Rex squeezed his eyes shut. The agony that warped the Force around him deepened. He turned his head away from her, a tear tracing down his cheek.

“No more.” He muttered. “ No more. ”

Check it out and my other Rexsoka Fics on A03!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34125910/chapters/85234081

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveCucumber/works

#rexsoka #rexsoka week #rexsoka week 2021 #rexsokaweek #rexsokaweek2021 #captain rex #ahsoka tano #ahsoka and rex #Day 7: FUBAR #commander cody

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shouldntcryoverit · 3 years ago

Text

the art of discordance

captain rex x jedi!reader

previous chapter

masterlist

CHAPTER TEN

Hope you enjoy! Might start this series up again so let me know what you’d like to see and if you’d like to be tagged! 💕

———————————————————————

Jaida’s feet felt weighted as she plodded along the corridor. In fact her entire body did. She needed caf and, among other things, she needed peace and quiet.

But alas, as is the way of war, she’d have to settle with yet another delinquent briefing, which would most likely result in another mission for her to loose herself in. How fun.

Peace wasn’t an option as of right now, but caf certainly was. So as any ordinary Jedi going through dramatic changes to their moral code while fighting a war which had so far gone against everything they had ever been taught by their now dead master; Jaida went and got caf.

Now she stood outside the war room, significantly late, but with a half drunk cup in her hand. On any regular day, she would’ve surely rushed in; profoundly apologising for her misconduct and directing all her attention to any matters presented to make up for her tardiness.

But instead she stood and stared at the uninspiring, off-white and dented plastoid door with almost a scowl. After a second, she took a swig and entered.

“Jaida! I was wondering if you had gotten lost.” Obi-wan smiled warmly. There was a hint of a jeer in his aristocratic tone.

“Oh force I really am late aren’t I?” She tried to laugh, setting down her cup on a surface she’d found (ignoring the future ring it would leave), snapping into a character that would resemble her more awake self.

“What’ve I missed?” Jaida asked as she settled into place beside Anakin and across from Obi-wan.

The holo-projector before her displayed the usual; a barren-ish landscape with red dots across it, symbolising places she’d most likely have to risk her and her men’s lives before moving onto the next tiny red dot.

It felt fallacious to belittle that sacrifice to so little as those red dots, especially when they’d been planted like seeds as if they’re cost was unimportant. To Jaida, red dots had begun to look more like casualty reports and defeated medics; so much more than a speck on a map in a heated war room in the middle of comfortable Coruscant.

But as is the way of war, she thought.

“After the failure to capture Grievous on Salucami, we know his ships will be in this western quadrant.” Obi-wan gestured now to the map of the galaxy, the holo map had apparently changed as Jaida was blinking, and more specifically to a highlighted section of space.

Her red dots would be minuscule by now.

“Our fear is that with Grievous now in need of a place to get fuel and rations, he’ll attempt to take-over ,in effect, the next planet viable. Which in this case” The holomap zoomed into a reddish planet with a dark brown hue surrounding it, “Would be Yeon.”

“Yeon?” Jaida asked. “What’s on Yeon that Grievous could want?”

Obiwan shifted his weight before speaking. Jaida sighed; sometimes she really did regret asking questions so much, especially when the answer require a deep breath.

“Yeon used to be home to a powerful empire, though the dissolution of said empire left the planet vulnerable and corrupt. The wealth still remains, but without proper safeguarding. It isn’t unlikely that Grievous hopes to exploit this, and use their land and people to help secure more galactic wins.” He finished with a flourish. He did always make good speeches, however short or dull.

Jaida shivered. The thought of such peaceful people once again being used as pawns in the seperatist game made her stomach turn. Is this what the galaxy had come to? Perhaps that question could be answered another day.

Anakin, who had up until this point been studying his friends demeanour and desperately trying to figure out the reason for her obvious lack of clarity, spoke next.

“Our mission is to intercept their ‘invasion’ and protect the people of Yeon before Grievous can even reach them.”

“Huh, fun.” She clicked.

A few more details were flattened out, though they mostly fell on deaf ears as Jaida replayed the events of that morning.

“We’ll leave tonight, get a head start.”

Great, she thought.

The corridor felt like it would never end as Jaida carried a backpack towards her destination. It was half full of ration packs and bacta supplies: in short she had no clue what to pack for. The feeling of unpreparedness sat heavy on her chest, even as she commed Anakin to meet her in the hanger.

As she did, Echo opened the door for her, between beckoning to Hardcase that his helmet was where he’d left it. Jaida almost laughed at how mumsy Echo got the few hours before a mission; it almost matched Kix’s mother hen approach.

“Where’re we up to?” Jaida asked, hesitantly setting down the bag beside her feet as she looked over the clones all preparing for a mission.

Echo smiled softly, giving one last side eye to his dazed brothers before giving her his full attention “Almost ready.”

“Thank you.” She could always count on Echo, and a warmth spread over her expression, secure in that fact. “Where’s-“

“Hullo!” The other jedi spoke through a cracker in his mouth. “You good?”

“Where’d you get that cracker?”

Anakin swallowed. Echo had to suppress his laughter at how much they resembled begrudging siblings.

“Help me with those crates and I’ll show you.” He shrugged off, beckoning for Jaida to follow his path.

The good news was the Hardcase had managed to locate his stranded helmet, and Fives only laughed for a few minute at how he almost cried that he’d thought he’d lost it: but the bad news was that Jaida realised that she would eventually have to talk to her captain, who was standing by the edge of the hangar with Kix.

He’d showered, and his pauldron was fixed. He looked so perfectly in control as he watchfully peered over his men. Jaida felt childish almost instantly at the anxiety balled in her stomach at just the thought of having to look at his deep and piercing eyes to talk to him. This was that feeling ‘crushes’ gave you, as Anakin would explain, and Jaida didn’t get ‘crushes’. Not ever, and not now.

She began to help the clones prepare what few weapons they thought they needed. There wasn’t much to sort out and load up, but still among the Torrent company; it was a grand feat.

Jaida was counting reloads and ration packs when she sensed him. Rex, as you could quite obviously expect, was coming closer. She exhaled fiercely out of her nose and picked up the crate she’d been kneeling over. “He’s just being a captain, just be a General.” She repeated to herself like a mantra.

But when she looked up and his gaze was already on her, she froze; childish and with a crush.

“You’re coming too?” Jaida cleared her throat and asked nonchalantly, trying desperately hard to prevent a redness forming on her cheeks.

“Of course.” Rex spoke flatly. His eyebrow twitched slightly as the words left his lips, perhaps testing her meaning.

“But you’re still injured.”

Now he did raise an eyebrow, “I’ll be fine.”

Jaida kissed her teeth, slightly annoyed at her inability to calm herself now.

She nodded as no words formed on her tongue. Nothing to express the ball of emotion in her throat. The Jedi didn’t meet his eyes as she turned away.

Rex caught her arm as she went to bring her crate to the ship, but even as he stopped her pivot she was reluctant to meet his gaze.

“Jaida-” He tried.

“Don’t.” Jaida cut him off, finally glaring at him, then quickly skimming over the room to check if anyone was noticing their ‘conversation’.

“Just promise me.” Vulnerability flashed across her face as the words left her mouth, and even those crystallised amber eyes of his couldn’t make her believe he would.

Rex bit his lip and flicked back over his men across the room, before looking back at Jaida’s ask. He nodded slowly, accepting that he’d want the exact same if it were her. Whatever it was that they shared really wasn’t simple.

“I promise.”

She smiled slightly, before he let her go and she walked off to the ship.

The company left not long after, but not before Anakin and Jaida managed to bicker over who should fly the ship, then if they’d brought the right rations, then whether or not they were ready. At least it was entertaining for the clones to watch their General’s be so relaxed yet so uppity.

But nonetheless, the company all fitted into their respective places and the ship left. Jaida, after bribing Anakin, was flying the ship. She thought that it’d help her concentrate ready for the next mission, although it did also mean that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone - so, plus.

The journey was rather short, but it certainly wasn’t sweet; for each time Jaida didn’t have to plant coordinates or watch the pressure levels in the engine, her mind slipped to the events of that morning, over and over again like torture. The guilt and worry pressed heavily against her frame; it was fair to say she was absentminded.

But they made it.

“I think we’re here boys.” Skywalker spoke over the channels.

The landing wasn’t rough, but Jaida’s vision through the ship window was too clouded to navigate properly through the thick air. The ship rocked as it hit the ground, and as the men filed our, their pilot was reluctant to follow.

The company gathered outside, Anakin knocked her shoulder; something he always used to do if she was nervous before a practice or exam. It made her finally exhale the breath she’d been holding onto.

It was dark when they made it to the village: a small dwelling lit with vibrant lights around each hut and structure. There was a hum in the air of content, they were peaceful people, and their laughter and chatter floated through the company like a warm drink.

Jaida wanted to welcome it, she really did, but she couldn’t, not when her head was this scrambled. She was still tired, and still torn between wanting to stay true to her morals and protect Rex, as well as desperately wanting to give in to her heart.

Mind over matter, her master would say. Though it seemed futile now.

Jaida followed her men into the village and tried once more to be content with the sweetness of the air. The sun was hanging low in the sky, but it still illuminated the tops of houses and slopes of hills in spite of the darkening hue encroaching. It was peace, the very kind she needed. Yet it would not breach her armoured skin.

The clones had managed to settle in rather quickly, having now taken off a few bits of armour and their helmets. They were standing and laughing with locals dotted about a wide fire pit, an area which Jaida took to be the market place.

After a cheer of babbling and exuberance calling for them, drums began playing in the background as entertainment; and the villagers seemed excited to have new guests for what looked like the first time in a while. They passed out food to the solidiers, colours of orange and green mixing on platters of fruits and perfectly cooked meat. After having a drank a few of their offered drinks, of which their alcohol quantity was unknown, Fives, Jesse and Hardcase danced to the beat as Echo and Kix tried not to laugh.

Jaida watched with an absent grin. She was resting on a crate with a cup of some sweet drink she’d been given by a swirling child, happy to see them so relaxed. Her view shifted from the gaggle of men to her Captain, who was laughing handsomely at his brothers’ feeble attempts. She tried to ignore the pounding in her stomach growing at how his face was illuminated so perfectly by the evening sun, and how it made her tongue swell to see him aswell so at peace. But it was rather difficult to ignore, especially when she couldn’t not-look.

Jaida placed her cup beside her and backed away, leaving the dancing and laughter behind her.

She found herself in the main hall of their largest structure, eyes closed in her own attempt at peace. She could still taste the wafting smell of meats and breads being cooked just a little further away. It smelt like herbs and spices she remembered only faintly from her own travels with her master. Jaida stood, staring at the painting on the closest wall to her when she wasn’t instead focused on her closed eyelids. Her brain was too foggy for anything else.

It was silent. Of course the base of the drums and the echoes of her men and their hosts still made their way in and out of the open windows, but it was silent to her. So silent that when footsteps began behind her she almost jumped.

The presence made it’s way to just a step behind her and paused. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it belonged to, but still, Jaida cursed her abilities to identify the warmth and security it brought nonetheless.

“You left?“ Rex’s tone was more a question than a statement, and Jaida didn’t open her eyes as he stepped and stood next to her.

“I needed to think without Fives’ dancing distracting me.” She joked in a low tone.

“You call that dancing?”

Jaida chuckled lightly at that, meeting his smiling eyeline.

A moment of warmth spread between the two. It was as if the complications of their feelings melted away for a few seconds, and both simply relished the presence of each other. But it was short lived.

“I cant think either.”

Her eyebrows were knitted in slight pain and sadness, something he recognised within his own head. She couldn’t speak.

“Do you regret it?” Rex broke the silence between them.

“What?”

“The other night.”

Jaida paused loudly, but spoke with force after a second passed. “No. I don’t. ”

Silence again.

“I don’t know what to do to make this… better.” Jaida admitted, the vulnerability in her voice making her cringe.

Jaida sighed and fixed her almost tearful expression back to that familiar neutral coldness. “I don’t even understand it.” She almost whispered.

“Neither do I.” His words were barely there. “I don’t think anyone ever does.”

“Then how do you know it’s real?” Jaida swallowed, blinking down her rising dejection.

Rex paused again, but spoke with purpose. He had been brave before, now was no different.

“Because whenever you enter the room it feels like time stops. I always look for you, like seeing you will change everything. And you know what, it does; everything stops.”

Jaida was shocked to hear the confession, and it made her heart melt when she turned to face him. His face was just as creased as hers; just as pained.

He studied her eyes for a second, almost asking for permission to continue, or even to be dared to do so. But he took in a breath and carried on:

“I knew it when we were stuck in that cave, and you fell asleep against the wall. All I could think of was how perfect you looked. Force, I don’t think you’ve ever left my head since.”

She smiled. A wilful smile that covered all of her stern face. She knew that feeling he described and it made her stomach erupt as he spoke of it.

Her words fell as a whisper once again. “I can’t ask you to risk your entire life on this. But you can’t tell how much I want to.” She spoke louder now.

Rex’s eyes softened.

“We’re at war, Jade. Some things are just worth it.” Rex paused and looked to her. Her eyes held a silent beg. “You’re worth it.” He wanted to say, but didn’t. Perhaps a part of him knew that he didn’t need to.

In the dim light, he could hardly see her face at all, but the peace that had spread across it was blindingly clear. Jaida blinked.

And Rex closed the small gap between their faces and pressed his lips against hers; tender and gentle yet proud, as if it was their first. He lifted his hand to cup her face and she melted into his touch, allowing the warmth of his mouth to thaw the cold of her heart. The kiss was acceptance, it was emotion and it was thrill.

“I’m in if you’re in.” He demurred with lighthearted intention.

Jaida smiled softly, joy in her eyes that Rex only caught glimpses of, but she caught his lips in feeble ecstasy.

She broke away with a dainty smile, and Rex laughed.

“I’m in.” The jedi whispered.

He grinned again, wider now as a perfect laugh fell from Jaida’s perfect lips.

His fingers dropped from her cheek and found hers without question, taking her hand in his as he refused to break away from her hopeful eyes.

Rex squeezed her hand, then jolted, taking her with him as he ran out of the hall and back to where the music still rumbled.

Jaida let him whisk her away, gladly.

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