Can’t Wait For This Fic To Be Released And Meet A New OC. In The Mean Time Drool Over Wolffe. You’ll

Tech is immune to flirting, but she keeps trying! This was adorable!

#tech’s a coder not a flirter

Tech x Mechanic Reader

Summary: After the war, you reprogrammed a troop of abandoned B1 battle droids to serve with kindness—not violence. When Clone Force 99 shows up for a supply run, Tech questions your methods, and you challenge his logic.

You found them half-dead in the sand. Twenty B1 battle droids, dumped in a sun-scorched wreck outside the outpost, like bones picked clean by time and war. Most folks would've scavenged the parts, maybe sold off a few limbs if the servos were still functional.

But you? You were a little lonely, a little dangerous, and very, *very* good with code.

Rewiring them took weeks. You erased what the Separatists left behind, built your own parameters from scratch, and gave them something they'd never had before: choice.

You taught them to wave. To carry groceries. To call you "Friend" instead of "Master."

And when people flinched at the sight of battle droids strolling through town, you dipped your brush in paint. Mint green, lavender, sunflower yellow. You gave them smiley faces, heart decals, flower crowns made from leftover wire. You made them soft. Funny. Endearing.

They were still capable of violence—so were you—but they only used it when you gave the order.

Which wasn't often.

---

Clone Force 99 didn't arrive with blasters drawn, but the tension clung to them like dust. The mission was simple: a supply pickup for Cid. In and out. But this planet made Wrecker's nose wrinkle, and Echo kept his blaster low and ready.

Hunter spotted the droid first—lavender chassis, daisies painted across its plating, an old satchel slung over one shoulder as it meandered through the marketplace humming something vaguely cheerful.

"Is that... a B1?" Echo asked, narrowing his eyes.

"It appears to be carrying coolant," Tech said, scanning with his datapad. "And whistling."

Wrecker let out a low chuckle. "Guess the war *really* is over."

"Something's off," Hunter murmured. "Let's follow it."

They kept their distance as the droid turned off the main strip and waddled down a side alley, past a half-crumbling sign that read *THE FIXER'S NEST* in flickering neon.

The shop was a bunker of welded panels and salvaged Separatist tech. Outside, another B1—bright pink with a lopsided sun painted on its chest—was sweeping the doorstep and chatting to a GNK droid.

"Friend says no sand in the workshop," it explained, very seriously. "Sand gets in the gears. Sand *hurts feelings*."

The Bad Batch exchanged a look.

Hunter stepped forward and tapped twice on the doorframe.

You didn't even look up from where you were elbow-deep in a deconstructed astromech.

"You're late," you said, voice calm. "Tell Cid her coolant's in the crate by the wall. So's the power cells, bolts, and the weird candy she likes."

There was a pause.

"We didn't say we were here for Cid," Echo said slowly.

Now you looked up—smirk sharp, eyes sharper.

"Didn't have to. You've got that *'we work for someone mean, grumpy and morally grey'* vibe. Plus, you match the order details she sent me yesterday."

Wrecker moved to the crate and peeked inside. "Yep. All here."

"Of course it is," you muttered. "I run a business, not a guessing game."

Tech, meanwhile, was still staring at the droids—two were dusting the shelves with actual feather dusters, and another had just handed you a datapad while humming.

"These are B1 units," he said, voice laced with something between awe and concern. "Fully functional. Active. Painted."

You stood, wiping your hands on a rag. "I call that one Sprinkles."

"They're dangerous," he said immediately. "You realize they could revert to their original programming at any time—"

"Not mine," you cut in. "I rewrote them myself. Erased every combat subroutine. They're coded to help, protect, and be as non-threatening as a bowl of soup."

Tech stepped forward, clearly bristling. "Their hardware alone makes them capable of violence. You cannot override thousands of lines of military protocol with flower decals and whimsy."

"No," you said coolly, "but I can override them with skill, precision, and an understanding of droid psychology that clearly surpasses yours."

Hunter winced. Echo muttered something under his breath. Wrecker made the universal *oooooh, burn* face.

Tech, however, pushed up his goggles like you'd challenged him to a duel. "I would very much like to inspect your code."

You arched a brow. "What, no dinner first?"

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

You grinned. "Don't worry, Professor. I'll even let you use the comfy chair."

Sprinkles chirped and handed Tech a cup of caf with perfect comedic timing.

"Welcome, new Friend!" it said cheerfully.

Tech took the cup automatically, staring down at it like it might explode.

You leaned on the counter and gave him a slow once-over. "You gonna tell me how unsafe I am again, or are you here to learn something?"

He met your gaze, thoughtful now. Curious. "...Both."

You smiled, victorious.

---

Tech hadn't stopped talking for fifteen minutes straight.

Not that you minded. His cadence was quick, his mind quicker, and his goggles fogged slightly whenever he got excited. Which, it turned out, was often—especially when discussing battle droid memory cores, sub-routine overrides, and how you managed to build a loyalty system based on *empathy* instead of authority.

"You replaced their original fail-safe with a social dependency loop," he said, practically glowing. "That's... innovative. Risky. But brilliant."

"I try," you said, leaning against your workbench. "It helps that they trust me. Most people don't trust anything unless they can control it. Droids aren't any different."

Tech nodded slowly, examining the code you'd opened for him on your terminal. "You used a behavioral reinforcement system. Repetition and reward. This is similar to clone trooper training methodology—except applied to machines."

You gave him a sly look. "Are you comparing yourself to a B1?"

"I am acknowledging structural parallels in behavioral learning patterns," he replied, completely straight-faced.

You grinned. "That's what I said."

Tech paused, frowning slightly. "You are... amused by me."

"Observant, aren't you?" You stepped closer, brushing your shoulder against his as you leaned in to point at a line of code. "This part here—subtle failsafe. If they ever encounter an override attempt from an external signal, it loops them back to me."

He blinked, eyes darting from the screen to your face. "That is... impressively cautious."

"I've been told I'm full of surprises."

He didn't respond—just squinted closer at the screen.

You sighed, lips twitching. "Nothing? Not even a blush? Stars, you *are* all business."

Before he could answer (or continue missing your very obvious flirting), a loud crash echoed from the street outside, followed by the unmistakable hiss of a thermal disruptor and the annoyed squawk of one of your droids.

You were already moving.

Outside, a low-rent bounty hunter—tatty armor, one glowing eye, and an attitude that outpaced his ability—was holding one of your B1s at blaster point.

"Move, scrapheap, or I'll scrap you myself," he snarled.

The droid blinked. "Friend said no yelling. Friend also said no blasters unless you bring candy."

"*Candy?*"

You stepped into the street like a storm cloud in boots.

"Is there a reason you're threatening my droid, or are you just bored and stupid?"

The bounty hunter turned to you, smug. "This thing walked in front of my speeder. I don't care how shiny you paint 'em—B1s are still clanker trash. I'm just doing the galaxy a favor."

You gave a slow whistle.

Three more droids stepped out from alleyways and rooftops, all armed with repurposed but deactivated blasters—they didn't need live ammo to intimidate. One even had a frying pan.

The bounty hunter backed up a step.

You raised a hand.

"Engage," you said simply.

They moved like a synchronized swarm. Two pinned his arms while the others knocked the blaster from his hands and dismantled his boots with surgical precision. The frying pan droid stood back and provided color commentary.

"Friend says don't be mean! Friend says fix your attitude!"

The bounty hunter was on the ground and begging within seconds.

You stepped forward, crouched down, and grabbed him by the collar.

"You threaten one of mine again, and I'll let them finish what they started. You hear me?"

He nodded frantically.

"Good." You turned to your droids. "Escort him to the edge of town. Gently."

They saluted with cartoonish enthusiasm and dragged him off, half-hopping as they went.

You stood, dusted your hands, and turned back to find Tech watching with an unreadable expression.

"Well?" you said, folding your arms.

"That was... efficient," he admitted. "But highly aggressive."

You raised a brow. "They followed my orders exactly. Didn't fire a shot. Didn't kill. Didn't even insult his boots. I programmed them to protect what's mine, not wage war."

"But the capability—"

"*Exists.*" You cut in. "Just like yours does. Just like mine. The question isn't what they *can* do. It's what they *choose* to do. And what I program them to choose."

Tech looked at you then—really looked at you. A flicker of something passed behind his eyes. Understanding. Respect.

Maybe even admiration.

"They're not like the others," he said, finally.

You smirked. "Neither am I."

He hesitated, adjusting his goggles. "Would you... allow me to assist you in refining their motor skills protocols? I have a few ideas."

You leaned on the workbench again, grinning. "You wanna help me teach battle droids ballet?"

Tech blinked. "Not... precisely."

"Come on, Tech," you said, voice low and teasing. "Live a little."

He didn't answer, but he did roll up his sleeves and pull out a datapad, already scribbling new subroutine formulas with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You might not have cracked the flirtation firewall yet—but the code was definitely compiling.

If you need some perfect fluffiness in your life, then read this 4-chapter work by @kybercrystals94. I couldn’t stop smiling!

The Stardust Conspiracy (Part 1)

Rated: G | Words: 1,656 | Summary: The Batch gets a pet…chaos ensues.

Author’s Note: special thanks to @just-here-with-my-thoughts for their contribution to the chaos that will transpire…😂

The market is crowded and loud. Omega's eyes are wide and constantly moving, a small smile teasing the edges of her lips. She has attached herself to both Hunter and Wrecker, her hands tucked snugly in theirs. It links them in an awkward chain; however, Hunter would rather that than Omega getting lost or snatched up. And maybe he doesn’t mind the feel of her tiny fingers locked around his, an unspoken familiarity that has grown in the months since they’ve taken her in.

“There’s so much to look at!” Omega declares, skipping between her brothers without a care in the world.

Hunter smiles. “Definitely more to offer than Ord Mantell.”

“That’s not hard to do,” Echo comments from behind them, voice muffled behind the mask of his droid disguise.

“We should get food,” Wrecker declares. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Hunter says, shaking his head. They’d just had their rations not even a standard hour before.

“I’m hungry too,” Omega says, tugging on Hunter’s hand.

“See! Great minds think alike!” Wrecker laughs, giving Omega’s arm an enthusiastic swing, making her giggle.

Hunter glances back at Echo, but the cyborg just heaves one shoulder in a shrug. “We’ll see what we can find,” Hunter concedes, earning a cheer from Wrecker and Omega.

The morning had started out on a sour note, the four of them having been banished from the Marauder by Tech for the remainder of the day while he made repairs “by himself.” Really, Wrecker and Echo were to blame, while Hunter and Omega were guilty by simple association. Wrecker had, somehow, managed to drop Gonky on Tech’s favorite data pad, cracking the screen even through the screen protector. Echo then followed up by inadvertently deleting a file from the navigation system’s hard drive that he thought was clutter—but was actually a collection of mundane information that Tech had wanted to keep. Verbal apologies were not enough to smooth over the offenses, and the four clones were asked to leave.

Omega, never one to linger on hard feelings, brightened the mood almost immediately, pressing into the excitement of a new place to explore. She was especially delighted with the fact that they were in no hurry to return to the ship, nor did they have any specific task to accomplish, leaving them free to wander to her childish heart’s content.

Their search for food is interrupted when they walk past a specific shop window. Omega’s attention is immediately captured by the sight of tooka kittens peering out at her, mouths moving in soundless mews through the glass pane. “What is this place?” she asks.

“It’s a pet store,” Echo replies.

Omega turns wide eyes on their oldest brother. “Pet store? What’s a pet?”

Hunter starts to step away. “Nothing we need,” he says firmly. “C’mon.”

Omega resists, returning her gaze to the tookas. “Can we go inside and just look? Please!”

“Yeah, Hunter, just for a few minutes,” Wrecker says. “I’ve never gotten to see a tooka kitten before. Maybe we can hold one!”

Omega gasps. “We could hold one?”

Two sets of eyes turn on Hunter with a level of pleading the sergeant isn’t ready to contend with. He sighs. “Fine. We can go inside for a few minutes.”

A small bell rings cheerfully when they push open the door, and an elderly woman eyes them from behind the counter. “Welcome,” she says, “is there anything specific I can help you find today?”

“We’re just looking,” Hunter says.

“Can we hold a tooka kitten?” Omega pipes up.

“Of course, you can, little one,” the woman croons. “You can hold any one you’d like.”

Omega and Wrecker go to the window, looking down into the glass pen where the tooka kittens have toddled over on wobbly, baby legs, their beady eyes blinking up under huge ears. Omega carefully lifts out a brown and black striped kitten then holds it close to her chest, stroking it between its ears.

“It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my whole life,” she whispers, “and it’s so tiny! Look at its little paws, Hunter! It’s so cute!”

Hunter’s heart melts a little.

Wrecker hesitates, but after looking at the woman and receiving a nod, he also picks up a kitten, the little creature practically disappearing in his cupped hand. “Imagine if Lula were this small,” Wrecker rumbles, his attempt at a whisper.

“She’d be so cute!” Omega cries quietly.

“Lula isn’t real,” Echo feels the need to clarify to the storekeeper. “It’s a toy.”

The woman gives Echo a funny look, and Hunter realizes it’s because of his droid disguise.

The woman turns her attention to Hunter. “The kittens are just old enough to leave their mother this week. We have everything you’d need to adopt one today.”

“Oh, no,” Hunter assures her a little too quickly, “We don’t want a kitten. We are just looking.”

The woman raises an eyebrow and pointedly glances at Omega. “Pets are very good for children. Teaches responsibility”

Omega is snuggling the tooka up to her face, her nose pressed into its round, fuzzy body. “It’s making a funny sound,” Omega says.

“It’s purring,” the woman explains, “that means it likes you.”

“It does? Awww! Can you hear it purring, Hunter?” Omega giggles when the kitten lets out a tiny, rasping mew.

“This one’s purring too!” Wrecker says, gruff soldier voice sounding absolutely delighted.

Hunter tries to ignore the sticky sweet emotion that stirs somewhere deep in the muscle thumping in his chest. They cannot get a tooka. Don’t even entertain the idea! “Alright,” he says, stamping down the joy daring to bloom in the light of his siblings’ utter happiness, “a few minutes is up. Let’s go.”

“Hunter, wait! There are more animals, and I want to see them all!” Omega cries, turning on him with those galaxy filled eyes. It doesn’t help that she has the tooka kitten nuzzled under her chin, peering up at him, daring him to break a little girl’s heart.

Hunter looks at Echo for backup, but the man looks about as helpful as Gonky at the moment. He is staring down at Omega, and even with the mask hiding his expression, it looks like he’s about to let Omega adopt the whole litter of tookas on the spot.

Maker, help me.

“Alright, well, you better start looking. We’re gonna have to head out soon,” Hunter says in his best command voice. Unfortunately, Omega and Wrecker are practically immune to it. They gently put down their tooka kittens, and begin meandering around the store, looking into glass cages housing all sorts of creatures from over the galaxy.

“What are these called?” Omega asks, leaning down to look into a cage containing what look to be tiny puffs of fur, smaller than the palm of her hand.

“Those are called cricetos,” the woman says, “They make wonderful first pets. Would you like to hold one?”

“Yes, please!” Omega chirps.

The woman reaches in and plucks a golden ball of fluff from the cage. She sets it in Omega’s hand. The creature is tiny, and stares up at Omega with large, round eyes. “I can’t even feel it in my hand, it’s so light,” Omega breathes.

“Would you like to give it a treat?” the woman asks.

Omega nods eagerly, and the woman gives her a small handful of seeds. Omega holds out a single seed to the criceto, and the animal reaches out and snatches the seed in its minuscule fingers. After an experimental sniff, the criceto licks the seed once before shoving the whole thing in its mouth, tucking it in its cheek. Omega offers it another and another and another, each seed carefully stowed away.

“That,” Echo says, “is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And that’s the moment Hunter knows they’re doomed.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The storekeeper is more than accommodating in providing the squad with everything they need to take care of a rodent aboard a spacecraft, even supplying discounts when Hunter tries to make the excuse that they really don’t have the credits to make such a purchase right now. Echo and Wrecker are absolutely no help, and the look on Omega’s face seals the deal. Tech is going to kill me in my sleep.

Omega is practically beside herself with excitement, words tumbling out of her in an endless stream as she plots, strategizes, and anticipates what having a pet will mean for their lives now. “Do you think Tech is going to love Stardust as much as we do?” Omega asks, holding up the small crate to peek at the rodent stashed inside.

Hunter suppresses a sigh. “Maybe we should wait to tell Tech until...” never. We should never, ever tell Tech.

“Until he isn’t mad at Wrecker and Echo anymore?” Omega supplies sweetly.

Echo and Wrecker make noises of protest; however, Hunter cuts them off with a sharp look. After all, it’s their fault they had to meander into the market at all. Their fault Stardust – as Omega quickly named the animal now in their care – is on a journey back to their ship. Their fault they hadn’t backed Hunter up when he tried to talk his way out of the situation.

“Maybe,” Omega says thoughtfully, oblivious to Hunter’s inner turmoil, “we can let Tech find Stardust on his own. We can put her cage by the nav computer, there’s a perfect spot for it! He’ll see how cute she is, and he won’t mind at all.”

It isn’t the worst idea, and at least it’s an idea. Tech might be miffed at first; however, he will come around. He might try to appear otherwise, but he is just as indulgent to Omega’s whims as the rest of them. The moment he sees how much their sister adores her new ward, he won’t be able to say anything against it. And besides, how much damage could a little rodent do?

TBC

Next Part >>

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69

✨Let me know if you’d like to added to the Tag List!✨

Echo‘s Helmet is a tribute to the 501st!

Have you ever wondered why Echo‘s helmet has a V-shaped pattern on top?

It mirrors the 501st standard painting 🥰

He‘s honoring his former squad!

Taglist: @padawancat97 @starrylothcat @pb-jellybeans @littlefeatherr @sunshinesdaydream @the-bad-batch-baroness @antoinettesb @the-rain-on-kamino @neyswxrld @elephantwoman4 @proteatook @goblininawig @kometqh @oceansssblue @sevdidntdie

@spooky-daggers just gave us all some hope! 💙💙

#Echo and Fives together again #batch twins

IT'S OK, GUYS! FIVES WAS JUST HIDING IN THE SHINY ARMOR!! 😭😭

Have a Ventress doodle while I'm working on more clone content 👀

The truth ain’t always pretty.

#clones clones clones

A beautiful explanation. ❤️

bringing back my favourite comic that I've made for The Bad Batch 🥲

much much love to the crew and everyone involved!

@faithwalkcreationscloneart is so talented. You should see her pieces in person. You really should. Breathtaking!

"Is there an Echo in here?" Why yes, there is! Just finished this 8x10 acrylic on canvas board of our guy! Enjoy!

I have an Etsy shop with prints and calendars of my clone art for sale. https://www.etsy.com/shop/FaithwalkCreationsCo 

On Facebook you can find me at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564620144107

Echo can do anything and everything! Total badassery.

It’s so funny how in The Bad Batch 3.01 “Confined,” Crosshair and Batcher are parallel characters:

• Omega visits both of them regularly. While they are confined, she has some amount of freedom within Tantiss.

• Both are initially closed off/withdrawn and antagonistic toward her.

• But, through continual positive interactions with Omega, they grow attached to her. (You could say she domesticated *both of them* … as others joked about here! 😂)

• Both of them are hurt — Batcher, physically and Crosshair, emotionally/physically — and Omega helps them both to heal.

• Both of their lives are threatened because of Omega’s actions. Batcher is slated for termination after Omega domesticates her; and Hemlock threatens to kill Crosshair if Omega’s misbehavior continues.

• Omega eventually frees both of them, and they both prove crucial in their collective escape in Episode 3.03. (Note: all three of them escape Tantiss the same way — via Batcher’s kennel chute.)

• Both Batcher and Crosshair are always ready to Square Up ™️ anytime someone threatens Omega.

• “S/he deserves a chance.”

• Hemlock only ever uses their designations — CT-9904 and LH-201. Omega only ever uses their names.

• The irony of Hemlock saying “actions always have consequences — sometimes not in the ways we imagine”… He literally arms Omega with two individuals who help in her first escape, and pairs her with Emerie who helps with the second escape. And later, Crosshair and Omega team up with Hunter to kill Hemlock. None of this would’ve happened if Hemlock had supervised Omega more closely, or not given her as many freedoms during her initial stay.

• Same thing with “Emotion and sentiment have no place within these walls. You would do well to remember that” … considering it’s the Bad Batch’s love for each other that causes Hemlock’s downfall.

• Omega refuses point blank to leave either of them behind throughout S3. “I wasn’t going to leave without you.” / “I’m not abandoning her.”

• Also, Batcher and Crosshair save Hunter together in 3.05. 😂

• Batcher almost exclusively follows Crosshair in 3.05. But, after he reconciles with Hunter and Wrecker in that episode, Batcher seems more comfortable hanging out with Hunter and Wrecker too. Like, she fully integrates into the family when Crosshair does.

There are probably others, but that’s all I got for now. 😅