Latest Posts by singingwhilebaking - Page 4

He needs more hugs!

Might

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 2 | Prompt: Injured

Rated: G | Words: 511

“Caf?” Hunter asks one morning, holding out a thick mug.

With a hum, Crosshair reaches for it, the dregs of sleep still fogging his mind.

Hunter pulls the mug back, wincing, as he says, “Uh, sorry. Uhm…other hand, Cross.”

Crosshair looks down at his outstretched hand and sees that it is missing, phantom fingers reaching and flexing. He drops his arm. “I don’t want caf,” he mutters, turning away, the flame of embarrassment burning across his face.

“I’ll just leave it on the counter if you change your mind,” Hunter says.

But Crosshair won’t change his mind. He’s already tugging on his boots and walking out the door.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, but the cool, damp air almost instantly soothes the scorching humiliation of his absentmindedness. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so intensely, why it feels like an abrasive lapse of memory. He’d seen Echo deal with the same, exact issue as he acclimated to the loss of his own limbs after his rescue from Skako Minor. He’d never thought Echo ridiculous or idiotic for it. In fact, he’d admired the reg’s tenacity, how quickly he corrected and adapted.

And yet, here is Crosshair, refusing a cup of caf because he used the wrong hand to claim it.

“Crosshair, wait up!” Omega’s voice floats behind him. He stops, but doesn’t turn, listening as her running steps get closer, tangled with the sound of Batcher’s thundering gallop. Omega trots to a stop at his left side and slips her hand into his. “Can we walk with you?”

“I’m not going anywhere…just walking,” he says.

Omega smiles up at him. “Perfect.”

He shoves his right wrist in his jacket pocket as they walk, and he can almost pretend his hand is still there, hidden from sight.

Batcher lumbers ahead, leading them down to the beach. The hound stops every little while to look back at them, making sure her shadows are still nearby. Omega swings their arms playfully, singing a soft, hummed tune that Crosshair recognizes from the docks. A melody sung by the fishermen.

“Can I help with the specs for your prosthetic?” Omega asks suddenly.

Crosshair frowns. “My what?”

“Your prosthetic,” Omega says again, patiently. “Can I help design it?”

“I’m not getting a prosthetic,” Crosshair says icily.

Omega is looking up at him, he can see her expression crumble out the corner of his eye, but he won’t look at her. He swallows, glancing away, and hiding his face entirely.

“That’s okay if you don’t want one,” Omega says after a moment, “I just thought you might.”

Omega doesn’t hum or swing his arm the rest of the way to the beach. As soon as their boots touch the sand, she chases after Batcher, laughing as the hound crashes into the surf.

Crosshair finds a piece of driftwood log to sit on and watches them play. He takes his right wrist out of his pocket and tries to imagine it with an artificial hand. He doesn’t know if he wants that.

But he might.

END

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Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver

Do they come in different colors?

Have you only used the same bandanna or have different ones for different purposes?

Sure, I've got a few others. There's one that I used specifically for cleanup during/after battle. I have another that I use to tie around my wrists and forearms as padding for my vambraces. I have several other bandanas I use.

But this particular bandana, the one I am wearing right now, is my favorite.

Big brother Tech!

Detail Work

Read here on Ao3!

Author’s Note: This elderly story is the second Bad Batch fanfic I ever wrote that I only posted on Archive of Our Own and never on Tumblr (except as a link). I’ve decided I wanna cross-post my older works 🫶 More older (read rougher) fics to come 😅

Rated: G | Words: 1204 | Summary: Omega asks for Tech’s help.

Omega sat with her arms folded on the table, her head pillowed on them comfortably, watching Tech work in companionable silence. The others had gone on a supply run earlier that morning, and Tech was using the quiet as an opportunity to delve into some of his lesser important projects. Currently, this consisted of rewiring the comm in his helmet to allow him the ability to switch between frequencies more smoothly. While GAR regulations had not deeply affected his willingness to alter equipment, it had put a damper on it – especially when Echo joined the batch. He never thought Echo would necessarily “tattle” on him, but there had always been a wary glint in Echo’s eye that made Tech keep his more daring improvements secret from the ARC Trooper.

He had no such qualms now.

“You’re really good at twisting the wires around like that,” Omega said suddenly.

Tech acknowledged her with a hum.

“You’re good at detail work, aren’t you?” Omega asked, although it was not really a question.

“I like to think so,” Tech agreed, not looking up from his work.

“Better than anyone else I’ve ever seen,” Omega continued.

Tech finally spared a glance in Omega’s direction, eyes narrowed. He had a feeling that this line of conversation was going in the direction of – as Wrecker called it – attempting to “butter him up” with the intent of getting something she wanted. After a pause, he said, “Thank you, Omega. I appreciate your confidence in my work.”

Omega didn’t lift her head from her arms but smiled at him shyly.

“My hair is getting pretty long,” Omega said, changing the subject abruptly.

“Hmm, yes,” Tech agreed, tossing another glance in her direction. “I suppose we should consider cutting it soon to be a more manageable length.”

To his surprise, Omega bristled, sitting up straight. “I can manage it this long,” she said coldly. “I’m not complaining about it. Besides, Hunter’s hair is even longer than mine and he manages just fine.”

Confused by Omega’s suddenly heated tone, Tech wondered if he had missed something, replaying the brief conversation in his head to find his mistake. Perhaps he had misunderstood her comment about the length of her hair? He should have responded positively rather than try to correct a perceived problem. Ah.

“I apologize, I did not mean to imply that you could not manage the current length of your hair,” he intoned awkwardly.

Omega’s furrowed face smoothed out, and she smiled again, shrugging off the accidental slight. Tech relaxed, appreciative that he had managed to avoid a crisis of emotions without his more emotionally intelligent brothers present.

“That’s alright,” Omega said brightly.

“I believe,” Tech said carefully, “that you were making a point...about your hair?”

“Yes,” Omega agreed readily, “I think that it is finally long enough to braid!”

Tech considered her hair length with his analytical mind. “I believe you are correct,” he said.

“So,” Omega said, seemingly encouraged by his words, “I was wondering – since you are good with detail work – if you could do it? Braid my hair?”

And there it was. The entire point of the conversation, which had, in reality, never diverted from its original course. Tech had to give the girl credit for catching him completely off guard, especially in the fact that he was struggling with denying her simple and trusting request.

Her eyes stared straight into his, sparkling with hope and determination.

“Ah, yes, well,” Tech stammered, his project now completely forgotten in his hands. “Well,” he tried again, “I am afraid I don’t know how to braid hair.”

“That’s okay,” Omega said smoothly, as if she’d expected as much. She held up a datapad she’d had in her lap. “I found instructions. They are very comprehensive." The last word was stilted, as though she were ensuring she said it correctly.

She really had thought of everything.

Tech gave her a wry smile. “How long have you been planning on enlisting me to braid your hair, Miss Omega?”

Omega grinned, averting her gaze to the pad in her hands. “Maybe since I found out the others were going to be gone on a supply run a few days ago?”

He appreciated that she had planned it around their brothers not being present. While he was certain they would not be unkind about Tech braiding Omega’s hair, he imagined that they would feel obliged to lightheartedly rib him a bit on the subject...as brothers do.

“I suppose I had better start reading these instructions then,” Tech said, taking the datapad from her.

***

The smile that lit up Omega’s face made his heart warm with sentimental emotion. No wonder his brothers were so easy to persuade into her whimsical schemes – her happiness was most contagious and addicting.

After some trial and error, Tech was finally able to sit back and admire his work. While Omega had been correct in assessing that Tech was proficient in what she called “detailed work”, hair was a much more delicate medium than he was accustomed to. Hair seemed to have a mind of its own, going every which way while his fingers clumsily tried to reign it in. Granted, his attempts were undoubtedly better than what any of his brothers might have managed given the same task.

“I believe I have finally finished,” Tech said, giving one of her braids a gentle and playful tug.

They were very short at the ends, but since he had started the braids at her hairline, it made the braids look ornate although the tails barely went past the nape of her neck.

“Oh!” Omega breathed, reaching up, her hands carefully touching her hair, feeling the plaits with her fingers, and tracing them down to the ends. “I’m going to look in the mirror!” She jumped up and ran to the ‘fresher, Tech trailing behind her.

She stood on tip toe to peer into the reflective metal plate attached above the sink. It was hardly reflective anymore, dented and scraped to the point that Omega’s reflection was disfigured and dull. She didn’t voice her disappointment over not being able to see Tech’s hard work, but her shoulders sagged a bit at the realization.

Tech quickly came up with a solution. “What if I take a holopic?” he asked. “Then perhaps you might see it in more detail.”

Omega could barely stand still long enough for him to take a clear pic before she was scrambling to take the datapad out of his hands and examine it. “Wow,” she gasped, her voice soft, “they look even better than I imagined! Thank you so much, Tech!”

“You are most welcome,” Tech responded with a smile, and before he could catch himself or think better of it, he added, “And should you need help again in the future, I would be happy to assist.”

Omega put the datapad down on the table and threw her arms around Tech’s waist, hugging him tight. “I’m so happy that I have a brother like you,” she said, squeezing impossibly tighter.

Tech chuckled and patted the top of her head, careful not to disturb the woven tresses. “And I am most grateful to have a sister like you.”

END

Have... Have they ever called you Toothpick?

Leaves

Sorry!

Hey Crossy! I asked the rest of your brothers so I’d figure I’d save the grumpiest for last, What’s the most annoying thing each of your brothers do or have done to you?

Would be hard to compete with calling me "Crossy"

Incoming holomessage from Tech

Oh...

So cute!

Happy Tech Tuesday! I am back! With a cover piece for my mini fic "Howling Love." It is short but sweet and full of Tech/Phee goodness. I hope you like!

This is adorable 😊

引き続き描いています🫡

Home is where the heart is🥺

Home With All of You

Week 2 Prompts: Injured & Comfort Zone

Summary: When Omega becomes injured during a rebel mission, she is asked to rest and visit her worried family.

Notes: FINALLY finished this, decided to mesh Week 2's prompts together to present a fic filled with angst and family time! divider by @summer-of-bad-batch

Warnings: Blood, description of an open cut (putting here if you're uncomfortable with that, it's just a small part)

Blaster fire engulfed the storage compound. Stormtroopers fired shots towards many rebellion fighters trying to get back to their ships after a mission of obtaining important supplies. Many Imperials were on patrol in the area, and a mishap involving a few rebels led to being spotted and a battle igniting. 

The rebels ran towards the landing pad where their makeshift (and stolen) Imperial ships were parked. Two ships stood out from the others as a smaller modified starship and a customized light freighter. The blaster fire continued on, rebels kneeling behind crates to protect themselves. 

“Got it!” A female rebellion fighter dressed in a signature yellow jacket with a loose red bandana tied in her blond locks ran while carrying a small crate in her arm, using her free hand to handle her blaster. 

“Omega, watch out!”

Omega ducked a few blaster shots that had headed towards her, cradling the crate and hiding behind some cargo.

“Glad you could make it, we really need to get out of here!” Hera Syndulla exclaimed, shooting a stormtrooper.

Omega chuckled, striking the eye area of a stormtrooper’s helmet. “Thanks for stating the obvious, Hera.” Hera gave her friend a smirk. The number of stormtroopers kept increasing as the rebels began running into their ships to make their escape. 

“Cover me!” Omega told other rebels around her, holding the crate and shooting stormtroopers as she ran towards the Marauder II, her own small starship named after her family’s shuttle that they lost so many years ago to honor it. The ship had been a gift from Echo after it was stolen from smugglers during a mission to retrieve citizens kept captive, and Omega loved flying it around. 

Omega kept on running towards her ship. Paying more attention to the stormtroopers trying to shoot her head off (with very poor aim), she didn’t see a sharp torn piece of metal that was placed near a few cargo crates. Omega ran past it and her right leg met contact with the sharp metal, exclaiming in pain and falling to the ground. Her gray jeggings were ripped open in a straight line as the metal dug into her flesh, cutting open her skin and peeling it apart. 

Omega looked over and saw blood flowing down and seeping into her jeggings, the cut burning. But there wasn’t any time to stop. She groaned and bit her lips to hold back whimpers as she picked the crate up and limped to her ship. The pain was excruciating, but these supplies had to be delivered to help the rebellion. 

She heard something solid roll near her, turning and seeing a small explosive stop rolling next to one of the cargo crates an inch from her. Omega’s eyes widened as the explosive beeped and was ready to go off at any second. She tried to get away as quickly as she could, but it was too late. The explosive went off and created a blast of fire and smoke, sending Omega back to the ground and hitting her head. Everything went black. 

“Omega!” Hera saw Omega get knocked to the floor, dropping her blaster and the crate. Her crew was getting ready to leave with most of the cargo on her ship. Some rebels had also noticed Omega falling to the ground and ran over to help her up. Hera had to help her best friend, so she quickly ran over to assess the situation. 

“Omega, wake up!” Omega had been knocked out after the explosive went off, and her leg was bleeding badly. She wasn’t waking up.

“Hera! We need to go!” A man dressed in green wielding a lightsaber shouted to get Hera’s attention from the ramp of her ship. She looked back at Omega, still barely breathing while laying in the arms of a rebel. 

“Zeb, get her onto the Ghost!” Hera made a quick decision, telling a member of her crew to bring her aboard. She pointed to another rebel. “You, pilot her ship back to base!” The rebel ran over to the Marauder II and got it started up so Omega’s ship wasn’t left behind. Rebel ships made their way to lift off while stormtroopers heated up their blasters, continuing to fire shots at their enemies. 

“The crate-”

“Just leave it, there’s no time!” Hera exclaimed at Zeb, running back to her ship and ducking many blaster shots. 

Omega was carried into the Ghost in Zeb’s arms and gently laid down in a room filled with colorful graffiti and doodles on its walls. The rebel ships made their way into the atmosphere with some TIE fighters on their tail, jumping to hyperspace within seconds. 

***

Omega woke up in a brightly lit room, which hurt her eyes when she managed to open them fully. She blinked a few times and tried to recognize her surroundings. A medical droid hovered near her with a tray of tools. A mechanical ventilator was attached to her mouth to help her breathe. Her left arm was wrapped in an arm sling. 

This was the medbay in the rebel base. How did she get here? Omega could hardly remember bits of where she was before this. She could remember being at that Imperial compound, hearing a blast, and then the rest was blurry in her memory. Omega tried to stretch her arms and sit up. 

“You must rest,” the medical droid interrupted, its metal claws now free and attempting to get Omega to lay back down. Omega mumbled to herself and laid back down per the droid’s instructions. 

“Oh, thank the stars.” Hera strolled in to check on Omega as part of her daily routine for the past days, relieved she was finally awake. She had seen Omega lay back down once she entered. Omega turned to look up at Hera, giving her a smile visible through her ventilator. 

“Thought we had nearly lost you there. You took quite a blast,” Hera sighed. A few rumbled noises piped up next to Hera. Chopper, her astromech, was glad to see Omega no longer asleep. Omega had remained unconscious during the entire trip back to the rebel base as Hera’s crew tried their best to tend to Omega’s deep wound until they could get her medical care. All other rebel fleets had been found by Star Destroyers and were under attack, so the Ghost wasn’t able to make a stop anywhere to get help for Omega quicker. 

Omega took off the mechanical ventilator to breathe freely. “How long have I been out?”

“Two rotations,” Hera said, Omega’s eyes widening in shock. Hera continued, “You were losing a lot of blood from your injury and that explosive had hit you hard.”

Everything was slowly coming back to her. Omega remembered running as fast as she could in the midst of blaster fire with pain stinging in her leg. There was an explosive, and it had gone off. 

“The cargo..”

“Lay back down,” Hera said. Omega got a glimpse of her right leg. The open cut on her upper leg had been stitched together with a few bandages wrapped around her knee to help heal another injury, some specks of blood visible through the fabric. 

“We got most of what we needed, and the rest had to be left behind. Including the one you were holding. And don’t worry, we brought your ship back to the base.” Hera added. 

“Thank you, Hera.”

“Don’t thank me,” Hera sat beside Omega on the medical bed. “You always do so much for the rebellion, going above and beyond to help us fight. Now you need to get some rest.”

Omega wasn’t fully listening. She thought back to what Hera said earlier. “Hera, you said I was out for two rotations?”

Hera nodded. Omega furrowed her brows, trying to remember something important. It hit her. Omega had told her brothers that she would call again at night after the mission was over before she had left for that mission. It has been two days now. They were likely worried sick. Omega pushed herself to sit up, wincing. 

“I need to call my brothers. Who knows what they’re thinking because I haven’t called them yet.” Omega moved her legs slowly, preparing herself to stand. Hera put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Echo informed your brothers about what happened. He and Emerie had visited while you were unconscious and they’ll come again later. Maybe you should take a break and visit them.”

Omega turned to her. “And leave while the rebellion still needs all the strength any of us can offer? The Empire already found and attacked one of our far bases and blew it up. I-”

Hera stopped her before she could continue. “The rebellion isn’t going anywhere, Omega. We’ll always be here to fight against the Empire, but what matters right now is you getting better so you can fly a ship. Your brothers miss you, so you should go rest and spend time with them until you are fully healed.”

“But-”

“Ah-ah, general’s orders, Commander,” Hera raised an eyebrow. Chopper made some noises, knowing Omega wouldn’t be able to get out of this one once Hera went under “general” mode. 

Omega sighed. “Yes, general.” She pushed herself to stand up with one hand and grabbed her jacket. Her wound still ached, but it didn’t affect her abilities to walk too much.

Once Echo and Emerie had arrived to visit Omega, she boarded the Marauder II to head back to Pabu using her ship. Echo piloted the starship while Emerie stayed with Omega in the back. Gonky honked, talking to Omega. 

“Don’t worry, I’m doing better, Gonky,” Omega replied. 

Emerie knelt down, examining Omega’s leg after she woke up from a nap. Her medical training kicked in when she saw Omega’s wounds. Omega winced when Emerie moved her leg up a bit. 

“Forgive me,” Emerie apologized, setting Omega’s leg down. “It’s a good thing General Syndulla advised you to rest. Your brothers were worried when we gave them the news. Echo let them know you’re on the way while the pain meds had made you unconscious.”

Omega held Lula in her lap. She bet they were. Omega could just imagine Hunter’s reaction once she reached Pabu and he saw her injuries. Crosshair would likely immediately tell her to rest in her room. Wrecker would make her all her favorite comfort foods while she got better. Tech would consistently make sure she was taking her meds on time. 

“Coming out of hyperspace,” Echo’s voice said over the comm. The starship slightly jolted as it exited hyperspace. Echo flew down into Pabu’s atmosphere and headed for the landing zone.

Omega stood up as the ship landed. Echo opened up the side ramp, light coming into the ship. Omega followed Emerie down, immediately catching sight of her brothers coming towards them. They hadn’t aged much since the last time she saw them in person, which had been one cycle ago. 

Hunter jogged forward as Omega leaned herself into his arms. Hunter used one arm to hug her away from her injured arm, tightening his grasp. His sister was home after so long. He didn’t want to let her go right now. 

“Ow,” Omega winced. 

Hunter broke the hug. “Sorry, kid.”

“You’ve been through a lot!” Wrecker said, coming in for a gentle hug next. 

“I guess it was a serious mission that led to an encounter with various troopers?” Tech came forward, adjusting his glasses and examining Omega’s injuries. Omega shrugged. “Another day in the rebellion.”

“What happened?” Hunter asked, concern glowing in his eyes. 

Crosshair removed a toothpick from his mouth. “Let’s get her into her room first so she can rest.” Omega smiled. She knew he would say that. 

“She got hit by an explosive and got her upper leg cut,” Emerie said with a straight face, watching her brothers’ eyes widen. “She’ll heal quickly in time with rest.”

Echo saw the way his brothers became worried for her. The over-protectiveness was about to begin and Omega couldn’t escape that. Hunter looked like he was about to have a heart attack. 

“You heard Emerie, you need to rest,” Hunter said, pushing her forward to walk to their home in the village. “Are you hungry? What hurts the most?”

Omega was overwhelmed by the amount of questions she was getting from her brothers. They cared deeply about her health and were happy to have her back home. Omega relaxed and let her brothers take care of her. 

Echo couldn’t help but chuckle. He had panicked when he heard about Omega becoming injured, but she was a strong girl. Seeing her awake after two days was a good sight to see. 

Days passed as Omega stayed with her brothers on Pabu. Tech made sure she was taking her meds on time, and Emerie found time to stay to help her injuries heal and check on them from time to time. Echo had stayed for a while to catch up and had returned back to base for another intel mission. 

“Your favorite fish soup, coming up!” Wrecker knocked on Omega’s door with a food tray. Omega laid in her bed, reading a few files on her datapad. Her back was supported by a bunch of pillows that Crosshair had put together so Omega could be as comfortable as possible while healing. She smiled as Wrecker delivered the tray and placed it on a breakfast tray. Batcher came in, pouncing onto Omega’s bed to give her some loving licks, making her laugh. Batcher settled down to take a nap. 

“Thank you, Wrecker.” Omega picked up her spoon and filled her mouth with the warm and spicy liquid, chewing on soft pieces of fish. She savored the taste of Wrecker’s cooking; finally something other than bland soup and rations. 

“How you feeling today?” Wrecker asked. He sat in a chair next to her bed. 

Omega swallowed her next bite. “Pretty good. My leg doesn’t really hurt much anymore.”

“Speaking of which,” Tech strolled into the room. “Time to take your meds again.” He set down a few meds on top of her drawer for her to take after eating. 

Omega gave her brother a smile. “Thank you, Tech.” She was happy he was here with her. 

It had been so long since Omega had been on Pabu and spent time with anyone here. Lyana was happy to see her again, and spending time with her brothers was the best vacation Omega could ask for.

During dinners and outings, Omega told her brothers, Phee, Lyana, and Shep all about what she had done and seen while in the rebellion. She told them about the new friends she had made and a lot about Hera’s crew. Omega was definitely going to bring them to Pabu one day so they could meet her brothers. 

“I hit a stormtrooper right in the eye,” Omega told Crosshair when she spent time outside on the beach with him. 

“Heh, you did?” Crosshair chewed on a toothpick. “At least you’ve got better aim than them.” He was very proud of her inside for blasting those nat-born bucket-heads. 

Omega told her brothers all about the many missions she had been on and all the planets she visited. She did leave out the parts whenever she would get injured or things would go wrong so Hunter didn’t start feeling uneasy and worried, but sometimes it would slip out whenever she was too excited telling a story. All of her brothers were happy to have her back while she healed and prepared themselves to let her go again once she had to go back into the fight. 

Her comfort zone was with her brothers. Her family. Staying on Pabu was temporary for now, but Omega was going to cherish every moment until she was fully healed. It was difficult to find peace in a time of war, but whenever Omega was with her family, everything felt okay.

Nini's Writing Masterlist

taglist: @summer-of-bad-batch @orion-tyche @bossboudicca @magicandmundane @kurlyfrii @locitapurplepink @ahsokashawarma1138

gonna cry!

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

2, 7 and 10 for the ask game

(10 was my question :D)

Congrats on the 200 followers by the way and thank you so much for organising this in the first place. You are a real legend!

Anyways have a good day 😊

@waywardsou2

Aww! Thanks so much! I am so thrilled getting to do this challenge with all of you! So THANK YOU for joining me...this event wouldn't be what it is without all you awesome participants ♥️

[[Questions from the Bad Batch 20 Questions]]

Question 2: Who is your favorite character from the show and why?

It's so hard to choose a favorite character 😭 I have LOVED Crosshair's character arc since episode 1...it reminds me of Zuko's redemption arc from TLA, and I am absolutely here for it!

But each Batcher has a special place in my heart for so many unique reasons. When all the rumors were going around about which member(s) would potentially die in the finale, I fretted over each of them...I love all my clone boys!

Question 7: If you needed a Bad Batcher to help you commit a crime, who would it be?

I'd probably try to get Echo to help me out...whether or not he actually would is up for debate 🥲

Question 10: What is one strange head canon you have about any of the Bad Batchers that you haven't seen anywhere else?

Hmmmm...I don't know that I have a unique head canon for any of the characters. Well, maybe one that unique is that I said that Hunter embroiders his bandanas in my story Embroidered Skulls 😂

Thanks for the questions @waywardsou2

He he he😂

Eyes Wide Open

Read on Ao3 here!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 2 | Prompt: Comfort Zone

Rated: G | Words: 2109

Summary:

“Did you know,” Crosshair says, conversationally, “that Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?”

A prank does not go as planned.

“Did you know,” Crosshair says, conversationally, “that Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?”

Echo huffs, “That’s impossible.”

“It’s part of his enhancement,” Crosshair says.

The sniper is lounging against the wall with the port Echo is scomped into, idly gnawing on a toothpick with his helmet tucked under his arm, rifle hanging uselessly in his other hand. Echo casts him a vexed glance. “Shouldn’t you be covering my six?

“I am.”

“With your helmet on? And your weapon ready?” 

“It’s an abandoned outpost,” Crosshair scoffs. “There’s nothing here.” 

“Well, then, can you at least stop distracting me? I’m trying to concentrate.” 

Crosshair snorts. “I’m giving you vital information about our squad’s dynamics.” 

“Sure you are,” Echo grumbles. 

“If you don’t believe me, ask Tech. He’ll tell you.” 

“Or maybe I’ll ask Wrecker.” 

“Sure.” 

Echo twists to look up at Crosshair. “You’re being serious? Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?” 

“It’s unsettling, but it’s true,” Crosshair says, shrugging. “But whatever you do, don’t tell Hunter you know. He’s very self conscious about it.” 

Echo narrows his eyes, watching for any twitch of a tell in Crosshair’s features. Crosshair stares back, unflinching, which means nothing. Of the Batch, he seems to be the most apt at lying. Turning back to his task, Echo says, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Fine by me,” Crosshair says with a shrug. 

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

“Echo told me something interesting,” Crosshair says, trailing after Hunter as they leave their meeting with command. 

Hunter isn’t paying attention, reading over their new mission parameters before Tech gets ahold of them. “Yeah?” he asks, absently. 

“He said he sleeps with his eyes open.” 

“Uh, huh.” 

“That’s it? Did you even hear what I said?” 

The ire in Crosshair’s tone makes Hunter look back at him. “What?”

Crosshair sighs. “I said, Echo told me something interesting.”

Hunter quirks an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“He said that he sleeps with his eyes open.” 

Hunter laughs. “What does that mean?” 

“It means he literally sleeps with his eyes open. Something to do with his cybernetics.” 

“He’s pulling your leg, Cross.” 

“I’ve seen it.” 

Now Hunter stops, turning to look at Crosshair dubiously. “You’ve seen Echo sleep with his eyes open.” 

“Several times.”  

Hunter considers this a moment, then regards Crosshair with a disconcerted expression. “You know, it’s kinda creepy that you watch Echo while he sleeps.” 

“I don’t watch him sleep,” Crosshair sputters. 

“That’s kind of what you just said.” 

Crosshair rolls his eyes and walks away, missing Hunter’s grin of triumph. It isn’t hard to annoy the sniper…but embarrassing him was a special kind of achievement. 

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

Echo almost asks Tech about Hunter, then he almost asks Wrecker. The issue is that if he caves to the surmounting curiosity, and it turns out this is some sort of prank…everyone will know he fell for it and he’ll look like a gullible dolt. Then again, Crosshair had seemed genuine. It would be a weird thing to lie about. What would he gain from it? (Besides the obvious prize of making Echo appear idiotic.) In the end, Echo decides that he’ll just have to verify the intel for himself, do some recon. How hard can it be to catch Hunter asleep and just…investigate.

Apparently, absolutely kriffing impossible. 

For whatever reason (further piquing Echo’s interest), Hunter always sleeps with his back to the room. To investigate would mean to lean precariously over the hyper sensitive clone. Like that’s gonna happen with Echo’s prosthetics and cybernetics whirring and screaming his location at all times. 

A standard week later, Echo still doesn’t know if Hunter sleeps with his eyes open, but he is almost positive the man has eyes in the back of his head. 

A rare stint on Kamino finds Echo sitting at the table, facing Hunter’s bunk, waiting and hoping that the clone tucked inside turns over in his sleep and finally puts this rumor to rest…so to speak. 

Abruptly, Hunter rolls over and pins Echo with a bleary glare. “What are you doing?” he growls, voice rough with sleep. 

Echo stammers, holding up a dark data pad as frail evidence. “Reading?” An internal smack to the forehead as he wonders why he posed his answer as a question.  

“You’ve been watching me sleep. Why?” 

“I’m not,” Echo protests. 

“You are,” Hunter insists. 

Echo squirms under the scrutiny, face aflame with embarrassment. “Just something Crosshair said…I was trying to figure out if it was true.” 

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Did he tell you I sleep with my eyes open?” 

Echo gapes. This can go one of two very different ways. Either Hunter admits that it’s true, or he tells Echo that he’s an idiot for believing a syllable out of the sniper’s mouth. Echo is not mentally prepared for either scenario. 

“Well, it’s not true,” Hunter deadpans. “Although, Cross told me that you told him that you sleep with your eyes open because of something to do with your cybernetics.”

Echo frowns. “Did you believe him?”

Hunter grins, flopping over onto his back and covering his eyes with the crook of one arm. “No, because I’m not an idiot.” 

“He said it had to do with your enhancement,” Echo defends himself, but that just makes Hunter laugh.  

“And you just believed him?” Hunter asks, still chuckling. 

Echo doesn’t want to dignify the obviously rhetorical question with a response, so he awakens his data pad with an irritable tap, and begins to sort through meaningless tabs hoping that Hunter will just drop it, and that he won’t tell Crosshair about any of it. 

“Ah, don’t feel bad, Echo,” Hunter says, still hiding half his face under his arm. “Cross messing with you means he likes you. You’re officially part of the squad. Getting harrassed by Crosshair is practically a right of passage.”

“Does it ever stop?” Echo mutters. 

Of course Hunter hears him. “No, but you get used to it.” 

Echo swears under his breath. “Goody.” 

A few minutes pass and Echo thinks that Hunter has fallen back asleep; however, the sergeant lifts his arm. “I have an idea to get him back…if you’re interested.”

Oh, Echo is very interested.

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

“You were right about Echo,” Hunter says, walking alongside Crosshair. 

Crosshair is pushing a cart of supplies from the armory. This is usually a task completed by Wrecker and Crosshair; however, Hunter had volunteered to go when Wrecker was occupied helping Tech with inventory counts…a task Hunter usually did with Tech. 

“What are you talking about?” Crosshair asks. 

Hunter glances around and lowers his voice. “About him sleeping with his eyes open.” 

Crosshair carefully keeps his expression from twitching into a look of surprise. “Of course I was right. Why would I lie about something like that?” 

“To make me a kriffing creeper like you,” Hunter says, bumping his shoulder into Crosshair. 

Crosshair rolls his eyes, remembering how this conversation went a few weeks ago. “I don’t watch him sleep!” 

“Fine, you don’t…but you were right! I couldn’t believe it. I asked Tech about it, and he said it is one of the side effects of his internal cybernetics. Sometimes Echo forgets to close his eyes if he falls asleep too fast.” 

That actually kind of made sense. Crosshair smirks. “You’re telling me this like I didn’t already know.” 

“I’m just saying, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Hunter says humbly. “It’s actually a good thing you told me. When I talked to Tech, he said that it is important that we close Echo’s eyes for him if he falls asleep with them open. They dry out and are painful once he wakes up.” 

Crosshair hums. He isn’t sure what he thinks of that. Maybe Echo should learn to fall asleep slower if drying his eyes out is that huge of a problem. 

Hunter claps Crosshair’s shoulder soundly. “Thank you for looking out for our squadmate. I know it’s been an adjustment incorporating Echo into the squad, but when we all put in the effort, it will be an even more seamless transition.” 

“Sure,” Crosshair mutters, feeling uncomfortable under the glowing praise. Hunter isn’t usually so flowery, and Echo’s adapting to the dynamics of Clone Force 99 hasn’t been that difficult. A few missteps here and there, but overall, the reg seemed able to keep up. 

Crosshair shrugs off the awkwardness of the situation and hopes he is never the one who sees that Echo has fallen asleep with his eyes open.

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

He isn’t so lucky. 

A standard week later, a mission forces them to travel twelve hours in hyperspace. Once the mission parameters have been established, the Batch disperse to do their own tasks. Echo announces that he is exhausted and is going to take a nap. He tells his new brothers that he does not want to be disturbed unless it is a matter of life or death. Then, he stretches out on the lower bunk, turns his back to the room, and is softly snoring a few minutes later. 

Crosshair is doing what he usually does on a long space journey: taking apart his entire rifle and putting it back together after polishing each individual piece. He is nearly done putting the rifle back together when Echo rolls over with a loud sigh. Crosshair glances up and freezes mid attaching one rifle piece to another. 

Echo is staring at him, unblinking. Well. Not at him, more like, through him. It’s terrifying. 

Crosshair glances at the cockpit where Tech, Hunter and Wrecker are. If he could get one of them to come back here, maybe they’d see Echo’s predicament and handle it themselves, Crosshair could claim not to have noticed. 

Another option is to wake Echo up. Crosshair isn’t scared of Echo, not even intimidated; however, putting an ARC on the warpath for disturbing his sleep seems like an unwise decision if Crosshair doesn’t want to face retaliation. 

The third option, the option Crosshair is loath to even consider, is to get up and close Echo’s eyes himself. Knowing there is no one around to hear him, Crosshair breathes out a whine, dropping his head back against the wall and sagging his shoulders. He really, really does not want to do this. 

Echo continues to stare. 

Unseeing. Unblinking. 

Just staring, staring right through Crosshair. 

With another hissed sound of disdain, Crosshair puts aside his rifle pieces and stands up. How does one even close someone’s eyes? You just prise their eyelids down? Won’t that wake them up? These questions plague Crosshair’s mind as he creeps forward, trying not to make eye contact with the sleeping ARC. It’s just so weird…

He stands in front of the bunk, sighs again, and kneels down, crouched on his heels. He reaches up slowly, hating every painful second of this. 

A hand catches his wrist and a voice says, low and cryptic, “Gotcha.” 

Crosshair does not scream. He will die on that hill. But the way his heart leaps into his throat and lodges there makes him fall backwards, landing hard on his tailbone. 

Echo is laughing hysterically, dropping Crosshair’s wrist as he sits up. A combination of the laughter and whatever thing made the unholy, panicked squawk draw the attention of the three persons in the cockpit. 

Hunter is grinning wide enough that Crosshair knows for an absolute fact that the idiot was in on the whole thing. 

“What were you doing, Cross?” Echo asks between gasps of laughter. 

Crosshair pushes himself to his feet and stands stiffly, arms crossed, wishing he had a toothpick to break between his teeth. “You know exactly what I was doing. It was a set up.” 

“What happened?” Wrecker asks, looking wounded at being left out of whatever Echo and Hunter found hilarious. 

“Echo fell asleep with his eyes open,” Hunter says, chuckling. 

Tech adjusts his goggles. “That is a condition known as nocturnal lagophthalmos. I was not aware Echo had it. Fascinating.” 

“He doesn’t have it,” Crosshair grouses. “Hunter lied to me.” 

Hunter looks shocked. “You’re the one who told me Echo had that.” 

“And you’re the one who told me that Hunter did,” Echo puts in, wiping tears from his eyes. 

Wrecker frowns. “Wait? So Hunter sleeps with his eyes open too?” 

“Neither of them do,” Crosshair growls. 

“Crosshair tried to trick Echo and I, so we got him back,” Hunter says, looking far too proud of himself. 

“So it was you that screamed like a prepubescent cadet?” Tech asks Crosshair with a grin. 

“I did not scream,” Crosshair says firmly. 

“Well, it wasn’t me,” Echo says. 

Wrecker is laughing now. “Wait, wait, tell me the whole story.”

Echo happily starts from the beginning. 

END

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver

Some Phee caps I took earlier:

I call this one 'some asshole is fucking around with my ship and if I catch them so fucking help me':

Nooooo! No goodbyes!

saying goodbye

I want to go to more places like this

😭 bring him back

brown eyes, ace, goggles, i miss him 😭🫶✨

Cute drawing!

You better let her love you Cross

Best dads🥰

Happy Father’s Day! I know raising girls is tough, but you made it through 🫡

@tbbs-best-hair @superiorsniper @kark-trooper-echo @exceptionally-minded @wrecking-ball-99

Was curious about what else Tech had recorded

those boys really get around

A Bad Batch Fanfiction

Plot: An attempt at writing a story about The Bad Batch and an alternate route if Crosshair went with them after Tapoca City was destroyed.

This is more of an adventure/action story with hurt/comfort and how the Batch has to navigate with their estranged brother and his ideology of the Galactic Empire, while helping a few seemingly hidden Jedi and their dragon friend rid a planet of a pirate that has taken over a small colony of refugees that fled from the Empire. The Jedi have a plan to get rid of the pirate and his gang, but it involves putting on a performance of singing and dancing, and they have the Batch perform along with them, much the guys embarrassment.

Warnings: sibling fighting, canon violence, mentions of blood, gore, death, and injuries, some mention of religion, some flirting, sibling affection, family bonding, in later chapters there will be mentions of abuse(those will have warnings in the beginning of the chapter and in tags(to the best of my ability)), and lots of singing. The boys will be singing.

Word count: 3,544

Chapter 2

The trip to Idaflor took several days through hyperspace, and in that time no one really spoke since the near fight in the bar, and tensions were still high. Omega watched Tech, Echo, Wrecker, and Hunter switch places with each other from in the cockpit to the monitors while conversing quietly with each other and with her, and businging themselves with catalogs, inventory, and updates from the holonet regarding the Empire. And Crosshair kept to himself on his bunk most of the time, polishing his rifle, mirrors, and his armor or napping. She had tried to approach him a few times but was met with a growl and a glare from the sniper and quickly, yet sadly, stopped trying for the time being. She had hoped that he would have changed by now, but unfortunately he was still stuck with his Empire ideology. Wrecker had a bit more success than she did by getting a few words out of their estranged brother, but nothing more. It wasn't until they were about to exit hyperspace when a full conversation with all of them took place.

"Why was there no one inhabiting Idaflor before?" Omega asked her brothers. She realized that she didn't know the exact reason for this planet’s lack of people, other than it was just uninhabited.

Hunter answered from the doorway leading into the cockpit. "Idaflor has been ruled largely by a species of animals called Drakears that are extremely dangerous and nearly impossible to kill."

“Not only that," Tech jumped in the conversation from the pilot's chair, a little excited that an actual conversation was happening. "They travel in pacts close to twenty in numbers and one swipe from their claws will shatter anyone's ribs. They can breathe fire that can shoot out thirty meters, their skin is completely covered in impenetrable scales and can grow over twenty feet in height if standing on their hind legs."

Echo brought up a picture of one on the data pad and showed Omega whose eyes grew big at the sight. To her it looked like a bear was covered in scales of a dragon, but had a longer torso with a long, spiked tail. There were four horns on its bear-like head that curved slightly back before heading up, its legs were stocky and strong with bear claws, and the overall color was a muddied purple. "Whoa!" She exclaimed quietly, taking in the picture with wonder. "That’s so cool! But terrifying."

"Exactly why no one lived there for so long." Echo said. "You can't kill one with a blaster because of their scales, but a lightsaber from a Jedi could cut through them just fine.” He immediately thought back to his generals and wished they were still alive.

“Those traitors should've done more to make that place more livable.” Crosshair sneered.

 Of course when he spoke it was about the “traitorous Jedi”. He earned a glare from Echo, who had fought alongside some of the best in the galaxy.

"But, how are there people living there now?" Omega asked, trying to stop another fight from happening before it started.

"Unsure." Tech said. "The settlers don't seem to have the technology or weaponry to deal with the beasts if they have been taken over by pirates, for there isn't a lot in that particular area where the settlement is to hide from the Drakears."

"And who are the pirates again?" Wrecker asked behind Crosshair's chair.

Hunter took out the device. "Unknown at the moment, the puck didn't say." The information on it was, to put it bluntly, strange. The way the Drakears were described as "the weird purple dragon bears" instead of their official name was unusual and the pirates themselves were described as "weird brown aliens with horns that took over by shooting up the place, killed a few people and other aliens and took others hostage to make them slaves, demanded tribute for protection against the dragon bears and wanted all the goods to be stored at their new base." It almost felt like a trap. A weird trap.

"I still think we can get this over with before dinner!" Wrecker proclaimed while hoisting up Gonky, who made a noise of protest. “Get rid of the pirates, save the village, and get paid!”

"We need to know who we're dealing with first, Wrecker." Crosshair said coldly, annoyed with his brother's enthusiasm.

"Hey, I'm just being optimistic." Wrecker said. "Plus, I wanna see if they have Drakear meat. That sounds good!"

"We're about to find out now." Tech called back. "We're approaching Idaflor." Echo hopped back up to the copilot's seat with Omega tailing him as Tech brought the ship out of hyperspace in front of the planet Idaflor. She let out a quiet “whoa” and was once again amazed how each planet could look so different. The forests of trees and foliage were different shades of purple with a clear blue sky as a background as it had been unsoiled by space ships.

Upon approaching their destination they could see through the windows a large cannon ring surrounding the settlement, some ten miles in diameter with the cannon itself spanning a quarter of a mile wide and sixty meters deep, and on the inside of the ring going all the way around was a large hill. "Well," Hunter whistled with surprise. "That could keep the Drakears out."

"This only gives us more questions than answers though." Echo said with a gesture of his scomp arm. "Was this always here? And if not, who dug that and how did they do it? And how did they clear out this area of the Drakears?"

"And where’d all that dirt go?" Wrecker asked.

"Why do you care about the dirt?" Crosshair asked impatiently.

"Well from what Tech said the other day, matter cannot be created or destroyed-"

"Don't try to sound smart." Crosshair interrupted him, which prompted a kick to his seat that nearly bounced him out.

"Wrecker does have a point, Crosshair." Tech jumped in. "Enough ground has been dug up to create another hill, however, the surrounding hills are not fresh mounds of dirt."

"Then where did it all go?" Omega asked.

"It could be a natural formation," Tech thought, "and nothing extraordinary. Stranger things have happened on other planets."

“That's an understatement.” Echo drolled.

The lower they flew, Hunter felt something strong. It may have been some sort of powercenter that was running, but it also didn't feel like one, and the closer they got to the settlement it grew weaker. Why would they place something like that far away from the settlement? He thought. He suddenly felt it focus on their ship, almost prodding it like a curious creature. He tensed up as he felt it prodded him, then he felt it move about the cabin as it searched each and every one of them, but the others didn't seem to be bothered by it or even notice it. That's not a power center. He thought breaking out into a sweat, almost ready to fight the invisible intruder. It's alive!

"Hunter?" Tech called back.

Hunter shook his head. "What is it?"

"I asked where you wanted us to land?"

Hunter tried to sense the weird energy inside the ship, but it had gone out again. That was unsettling. "Land two clicks away from the settlement." He answered quickly. "And let's stay away from the east side of the ring. There's something out there."

"Like what?" Omega asked, very curious.

"I don't know. But I think it's best that we don't find out." He noticed Crosshair eyeing him suspiciously, figuring that he knew that he held back information. No one would believe it. 

Thus they landed in a small clearing amongst the purple trees, with Hunter making sure that what he felt was far away from them and not moving in their direction, and thankfully it was just outside the ring, waiting. He also didn't sense any Drakears in the ring, which was good for them, but it was puzzleling. They split into two groups with Hunter, Wrecker, Omega, and Crosshair were to scope out the settlement while Tech and Echo stayed with the ship, much to Crosshair's protest of course. He didn't want a kid going with them.

Omega found the trek thankfully uneventful and somewhat quiet, though the local birds and insects made merry sounds of chirps and rustling, while the cool breeze brought the smells of the local flowers and plants to her nose and danced in the trees, making the leaves rustle and the bark creek. It was very peaceful and serene, though it did seem to penetrate her clothes and bring a chill to her spine, making her shake. 

There were some signs that Drakears once did live in this area, but it had been some time since the beasts had dwelled there. And the closer they got to the center of the settlement, they came upon abandoned homes that were ransacked and burned, with the contents of the home being tossed outside and destroyed.

"Definitely pirates." Wrecker said with a nod. A familiar sight at this point to him, but not a good familiar. And that's why we're here, to kick these nerfherders off this planet!

Omega clutched the sleeve of her shirt, feeling a little bit anxious. The planet had looked friendly and sounded pleasant thus far with the friendly animal chatter and wind, but the reminder of their mission was a dark contrast, with the burnt homes showing uprooted lives that once lived there. It reminded her of how Tapoca City was destroyed. "That's not a good sign." 

Hunter picked up on her nerves and placed a hand on her shoulder. He looked down at her, and even though she couldn't see it, she could tell he was smiling underneath his helmet. "It's going to be okay, Omega. Just remember to stick with us." She grinned back up at him and walked a little bit closer to his side. Hunter then heard Crosshair make a noise of disgust, just barely audible behind him.

"Still a bad idea to bring her along, Hunter." 

"We've been over this Crosshair!" Hunter snapped. This had been an ongoing argument since Crosshair had come back with them, and Hunter had had enough of it.

"You could've at least left her on the ship." Crosshair's voice remained leveled and low, irritating his brother. "That way she wouldn't be in danger. Or in the way."

Hunter suddenly turned on his heel and faced the sniper. "If you want to, you can go back to the ship!" He pointed back down the road. "This is a scouting mission anyway and we can do it without you!" As soon as he said it, he was immediately filled with regret.

Crosshair scoffed, both at the fact that he knew from their stories how they were when he wasn't there before, and that Hunter didn't want him back now. It was hilarious and hurtful. So someone finally said it. He thought. They don't really want me back. They took me out of pity and spite. He was about to say something witty when some movement caught his eyes beyond Hunter's left shoulder. Time seemed to freeze as he did his quick analysis of the target. Fifteen meters away, 12:02, barely behind a tree, a human male has a blaster at the ready, no armor, wind barely blowing, waiting and watching. Warning shot. In a blink of an eye, he pulled up his weapon and shot the blaster out of the man's hand. Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega turned with weapons drawn and saw the man with his hands up in surprise.

Then the man called out, "What a shot, mate!" He stepped lightly out onto the path with his hands still raised. "I do have knives on me, and more in a box, but I will not go for them." 

"Let's be sure of that." Hunter spoke.

"Down on your knees." Crosshair commanded the man. Hunter turned back to him.

"Alright mate." The man obliged. "I hope you're not trigger happy!" He smiled.

Crosshair started to walk up the path, and on passing Hunter he whispered, "I won't forget what you said." 

Wrecker came up behind Crosshair with his helmet up and glared down at the sergeant. "That wasn't called for, Sarge." 

"Wrecker-" Hunter stammered. Omega grabbed his hand, causing him to look down. "Don't listen to him, kid. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"He thinks no one really wants him around." She looked up at him.

Hunter shook his head. He hadn't exactly been warm or trusting of Crosshair, and Crosshair wasn't exactly making it easy either, especially since they still were butting heads over everything and his beliefs of the Empire, but Hunter was glad to have his brother back, he just wished they could get over this Empire hurdle. "Let's go and see who this guy is." Hunter directed themselves up the path behind his brothers. He'll have to apologize later to Crosshair, but not now. First things first, this new guy.

The human male sat on his knees while he waited for the batch to move in closer. His hands were on his capped head with his dark hair escaping underneath its edges, with his brown eyes smiling as he gently sang a tune, seemingly in no hurry. 

“And a-begging I will go,

 a-begging I will go. 

And a-begging I will go, 

a-begging I will go.” 

He wore a brown shoulder cape with crisscrossing bright lines and white tassels hanging on the bottom edge, a red and brown tunic that was crisscrossed from his belt down with more tassels hanging off the hem of the tunic, brown pants and brown boots. If he wanted to hide in the dirt, Hunter thought, no one would see him. The man did have two knives on his person like he said, a large one and a small one, two satchels and a canteen. Definitely a traveler.

"Who are you?" Crosshair asked the man when he was close enough.

"You may call me Tore, mate!" The man chirped. "And who are you lot?"

"Just travelers." Crosshair answered. 

"Travelers, ey?" Tore peeked around Crosshair with a raised brow to see the other members of the squad. "Very well armed for travelers. Though I guess that's expected nowadays." He sniffed and scrunched his nose slightly. “Smell like it too.”

"What are you doing out here?" Hunter asked before Crosshair could say anything about the comment.

"Deliverin Drakear knives to the Great Hondo Ohnaka." Tore laughed sarcastically. "As tribute for his, ahem, 'protection'." Tore air quoted.

"Hondo Ohnaka?" Hunter repeated.

"Yes sir." 

 Hunter took a step forward, now understanding the situation better. "Are you from the settlement?" Tore nodded. "Stand down Crosshair." Hunter ordered.

Crosshair slowly lowered his weapon, still not trusting this man Tore, but the name Hondo rang some bells.

"Whoa!" Wrecker said slowly. "We're up against that guy?"

"Who's Hondo Ohnaka?" Omega asked.

"He's a famous pirate lord in the Outer Rim," Hunter answered. "I've heard many stories of this pirate, but it's said that half of them are false."

Tore's eye's seemed to widen a bit. "You know this pirate?"

"Only stories." Hunter reiterated. "I would need to contact the rest of my squad to dig up more information on him."

"How about I just take you to him!?" Tore looked excited and relieved to meet someone who might know how to stop this pirate.

"How do we know you won't just hand us over?" Crosshair asked.

"Sir," Tore locked eyes with Crosshair through his helmet, unsettling him a bit. "I've been stuck tryin to figure out how to rid this guy and his gang for a month now while makin these dang knives so that he doesn't kill anyone else." Tore narrowed his eyes. "Why would I betray you like that when I'm desperate for help?"

"He's got a point, Crosshair." Wrecker said. Crosshair finally begrudgingly put his weapon away with a growl.

Hunter thought about what Tore said, spending a month trying to figure out how to be free of Hondo, and that the message for help was only a few rotations old. “Were you the one then who sent out the distress call?” Tore nodded. “So you’re the Mayor of this settlement?”

Tore shrugged. “Eh, kind of? I came to this world with my partner lookin for a friend about four months ago and we made a way of life here. Then more people and aliens started to show up and we taught them the way of life here and I guess that got Hondo’s attention.” He tapped his long knife with his hand and chuckled awkwardly. “Who knew that these knives were so rare?”

"What are the knives made of?" Asked Wrecker, full of curiosity.

"May I show you?" Tore asked, looking more like an excited puppy that found a new friend.

Hunter nodded. "Go ahead." He was also very curious about this knife.

Tore pulled out the long semi curved knife. It was purple on one side and ivory on the other. "This is a Drakear knife. It is a talon from a young Drakear that is dangerously sharpened on both sides with the ivory side having two edges." Tore carefully spun the knife to showcase the edges with Hunter and Omega moving in to get a closer look and Wrecker standing over them. Crosshair couldn't care less about its looks. "These knives can cut through wood and armor alike as if they were bread, and with unprotected flesh, like butter." Crosshair shuddered. There was a reason why he preferred to be a sniper, and not just because he was an expert at it. Knives required one to get up close and personal with the target who would struggle against the wielder. Making it messy. He didn't understand how Hunter could stomach such an approach. "The hilt is made from the trees here on the planet, and polished with a black varnish to make the blade pop out.” Then Tore chuckled lightly. “Didn't know that a hunting knife was so valuable."

Crosshair sputtered, “A hunting knife?! This planet has been uninhabited by people for who knows how long because of the Drakears, and you just casually come along and kill them for hunting knives?!” Crosshair nearly took his weapon back out, only to be stopped by Hunter. “Didn't you know that these monsters were dangerous and nearly impossible to kill?” Crosshair grew incredibly suspicious of this man. What are you hiding?

“That’s what everyone said,” Tore answered with a bored smile while replacing the knife in its sheath. “But I don’t see why. You just need to find a material that’s sharper than their scales and bam!” he clapped his hands which caused them to jump. “You take it out!” 

"And what material do you have to kill the Drakears?" Hunter asked, also growing suspicious. He thought back to what Echo said on the ship.  "You can't kill one with a blaster because of their scales, but a lightsaber from a Jedi could cut through them just fine.”

Tore's knowing smile widened and his own eyes became slitted with suspicion. "As a tradesman, I can't reveal all my secrets."

“But what about their firebreath?” Omega asked, not really understanding why they were all becoming suspicious of each other.

“Don’t you all have fireproof armor or somethin like that?” Tore looked at each of them and their silence spoke volumes. For the first time, he frowned. “Seriously?”

“That’s a tad bit expensive.” Wrecker shuffled his feet.

Tore hung his head for a moment and mumbled something under his breath, then lifted his head with resolve in his features and with his hands on his hips. “Alright. Dragon bears aside, y’all are here to do business with Hondo, so you lot better come up with a story quick. His men are just ahead.” Tore promptly sprang up, again startling them. "Alrighty then!" He went back to the tree line humming and picked up a large wooden box that rustled a bit. "Off we go to see the pirate king, to deliver Drakear knives!" He sang as he walked off in the direction of the settlement. He didn’t really give them a chance to speak before taking off.

Omega chuckled at Tore's enthusiasm. He was weird, but it was a good kind of weird. "I like him!" She skipped forward and picked up his blaster and quickly caught up with him to ask him questions.

“Omega wait!” Hunter took off after her.

"Well let's not stand around here!" Wrecker laughed himself. "Let's kick some pirate butt!" He pushed past both of his brothers as he charged after the duo and was quickly followed by Crosshair.

"This is a scouting mission Wrecker!" Crosshair reminded him, fast on his heels. He definitely didn't trust Tore. Something was up with him.

 Well, this man Tore was certainly enthusiastic. Hunter thought. But is he one of them? The weird energy that Hunter had been monitoring suddenly disappeared, as if someone had turned it off. He stopped and checked the air quickly; the wind still blew, chill yet refreshing, and found nothing. Did it die?

Rex, Rex, Rex, Rex! My friend has dubbed you the Feral Blond Murder Child

I mean I might've been ten at the start of the war... But I'm not a child. I'd also disagree with feral because I'm not an animal, I'm a captain and my actions impact the lives of my men so I'm not gonna be reckless. As for murder ... The droids? They weren't alive so I dunno how I can murder them when I was doing my duty to protect the republic and my brothers they were gunning down.

But yeah they're right, I am blond.

Glowy mushroom

by ausmashmash

there’s absolutely nothing better than reading a 100k word fanfic, that is until you remember you have a body that is starving, thirsty and incredibly sleep deprived and hasn’t used the bathroom since the sun set 8 hours ago

*Echo and Tech devising battle strategies at 2am on Echo’s first night with the batch*

Echo: —and then, that’s when we would use the cannon to launch wrecker straight into the wall—

Tech: —yes, and at the same time, you and Hunter can be on either side rigging the explosives—

Echo: —which Crosshair will shoot from the other side of the battlefield from on top of the Rancor that we kidnapped earlier—

Hunter: *whispers to Crosshair* this might have been a bad idea.

Crosshair: *sips his coffee* I, myself, have always wanted to ride a rancor.

Dad

give me one season of the bad batch but it's set during clone wars era, so it's just them being a squad together and going on missions and being cool in perfect synchronicity. it can be a mixture of before and after they got echo in their ranks. I just want to see them work together when things were a little more simple, when they were together. my badass 99s. please.