Echo Bad Batch - Blog Posts

echo, pulling up in a 2001 honda odyssey with a large CRISP diet coke from sonic (special ice™️), patiently waiting for 15mg of hydroxyzine to kick in: get in loser we're starting a rebellion

So I’m drinking an extra crispy Diet Coke and I was wondering which member of the bad batch would go absolutely WILD for an extra crispy Diet Coke? And are they enjoying it with or without lemon?

I THINK, THEREFORE I AM

if you saw the og upload with the tiktok watermark no you didnt

massive fucking shout out to @cloned-eyes for this piece that inspired this edit and subsequently has not left my brain folds since they uploaded it.

HALLO :D

i do apologize that i didn't have a snippet out like i wanted but, compromise, here's the whole damn thing. i also switched some stuff around in ch2 for continuity reasons :3

i got very very busy with prepping for an art faire (if anyone knows where to get cheap high quality prints let a mf know PLSSS) and i was muy busy. but we're back. and echo's a sweet dork.

mando'a translations!

ke'pare - wait/hold on

ge'tal - red

vor'e - thanks

udesii - chill out/its okay

gender neutral pronouns, no y/n usage, only main descriptor im sticking to about the reader is that you're ginger. cus i am. sorry nerds.

-immediately follows the events of the preceding chapter-

You were fighting back a smile. You had no idea that some of the clones knew Mando’a, let alone that the Mandolorian-adoptee turned clone-donor Jango Fett was taught during his short time on your home planet. You wondered if it was something the Kaminoans decided or if they all went about teaching themselves in Jango’s honor. The idea of a bunch of clone soldiers sitting around a Mando’a children’s dictionary makes the smile stitching onto your face that much harder to fight.

“I’m sorry about Tech. He can be, ah, a lot.” Echo grimaced while swiveling around the copilot’s seat, presenting it to you.

You obliged, and sat down. “Oh he’s fine. There’s plenty of topics I could infodump about, just as annoyingly. I just have a bad habit of my thoughts becoming verbal.” You shook your head, soft auburn tresses flicking about. The lights from the cockpit glinted around the natural highlights of your hair, and it didn’t escape Echo’s gaze.

The man cleared his throat. “Still, I appreciate you being so accommodating of my brothers. Nat-borns don’t seem to get it, you know?”

You furrowed your brow and cocked your head slightly to the left, looking him in the eyes. While he didn’t physically shudder, you could see the slight panic pulse in his iris when you met his gaze.

“Where do you think clones get their camaraderie and brotherhood from?”

Echo shrugged. “Kaminoans, I presume?”

You barked a laugh. “Well, yes. Ke’pare, what did they tell you guys about Mandalore?”

“Not much. Jango was around for the first few years, but I rarely saw him. He didn’t seem to hold much emotion for the regs. He seemed to like the higher ups, but I didn’t become an ARC Trooper until I was shipped off that wet rock.” Echo finally slumped into his chair opposing you. As he spoke, he slowly relaxed into his seat, his hinges quietly scraping together as he moved. Once again his amber eyes met yours, a new twinkle seeming to arrive.

“You know more than you let on, ge’tal.” Echo said, narrowing his gaze.

He seemed to be sizing you up. Trying to parse out his next line of questioning. Truthfully, you were better at it than him. While his observation skills have been battle-tested, the ease in which you peppered questions at him showed years of practice he was simply unable to acquire. Outside of the occasional conversation at 79’s or a senator he was required to escort, Echo’s entire social sphere only extends to his brothers. You made him nervous. In a very good way.

You blushed at the newly acquired nickname. “I prefer to call it ‘not showing my full hand’, but I’ll slide a few cards your way since you seem cute.”

The back of Echo’s neck started to bloom a soft red. He rubbed a palm on his knee, mindlessly self soothing. “Seem? What, the gray skin and hollow cheeks not working their magic?” He joked, gesturing to each feature respectively with a pointed index finger.

“You seem to deflect compliments because you can’t believe them, so I was starting small.” You extended your own index finger and poked at his shoulder, annunciating the seem.

The now-scarlet tint of Echo’s neck began to creep towards his face. Eyes darting towards the floor, he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He pressed his lips together for a moment. The only thing he got out was a weak “Vor’e.”

“Udesii. I came here, didn’t I?” Your face softened. Echo’s almost immediate vulnerability around you made your knees feel like jelly, and you were sending a silent prayer somewhere that you were both sitting down. “You’re not gonna scare me off, but you can’t immediately go cracking jokes just ‘cus I said you’re handsome.” You continued. Soft, yet firm. You weren’t allowing Echo to talk poorly of himself, even in jest.

Echo nodded, meeting your gaze once more. He looked off for a moment, seemingly in thought, before returning your gaze and asking softly: “How do you always know what to say?”

You let out one quick heh. “Since I found someone to give the words to.” You reply cheekily.

Echo smiled once more and dipped his head. “Walked into that one huh?”

You both smiled, and a comfortable silence began to envelope the two of you. Both of you were looking out on the horizon. The sky was a deep pink and purple haze, stippled with the indigo hues of the impending twilight. Echo was scanning the distance, as if anything alive would be out there, let alone a threat. You were content watching the 2 ½ clouds in the sky move millimeters at a time, but something told you to look at your companion. Gazing at him, your eyes slowly roved up his face. His jaw was set in a defined line, lightly gritted in concentration. His cheeks were hollow, but his cheekbones sat quite prominently, catching the light. This, juxtaposed with his deep set eyes, allowed the light to dance right at the forefront of his face. As if a candle was eye level with him, across the room.

“See anything cool?” You finally speak, hoping Echo didn’t catch you staring.

“Nah, perimeter check. I’m sure all I’ll see is bones and dirt but, old habits die hard.” He replied, not looking away. After a beat, he nodded, and seemingly relaxed the scrutinous gaze he had moments ago.

“Huh. So, what makes your squad different from the other clones, other than haircuts, tattoos, and builds?” You change the subject.

“Being experimental meant the Kaminoans could enhance certain characteristics. Wrecker’s strength, Tech’s smarts, Crosshair’s accuracy, and Hunter’s senses.” Echo spun his chair to face you and threw one leg over the other.

“Huh.” You think for a moment before replying. “So you think Hunter heard us approach?”

Echo nodded. “And I’m willing to bet he’s going to call me a serf for the next 3 rotations.”

You barked out a laugh before realizing his implication. A hand shot over your mouth and your eyes grew wide.

The man laughed. “Just be glad he’s not close enough to hear your heartbeat.”

“What CAN’T he hear?” You said, mildly exasperated. “How do you get any privacy?”

“He’s got noise canceling headphones but that’s mainly for his own sanity. Wrecker got them for him after his snoring kept him up for 3 days in a row.” You laughed at that, and Echo felt a twinge of pride before continuing. “He showed up in the cockpit one morning with his bandana over his nose and Omega had to ask him about his new fashion choices.”

You let out a series of giggles at that, holding your stomach slightly as you lean forward into it. If your eyes weren’t scrunched shut, you would’ve seen Echo’s face bloom in 4 different shades of pink. Every single part of him was committing this to memory. The way your eyes crinkled at the sides. The way your cheeks almost wanted to push your eyes out of their sockets. He never wanted this to end, the sounds of your joy echoing across the hold of the Marauder.

——————

Hours had passed, the sun well below the horizon by this hour. The sky was peppered with numerous constellations and star systems, the names of which always seeming to escape you. The deep blue sea of sky felt more vast than ever in your little perch aboard the Marauder.

You and Echo went back and forth, sharing tidbits from your respective lives up until this point. You learned about the Rishi Moon incident that gave Echo his ARC status, he learned about the Siege that gave way to your arrival here. He told you about the Domino Squad, you told him about your own clan’s untimely demise. Hours of stories shared back and forth, as if you were both once stationed on the same battlefield and then whisked away, only to be brought back together once more after all these years. But there was no mutual history to draw upon this familiarity from. The two of you just fell into a steady rhythm. One that you’d individually practiced and honed for years, like a song that was never intended for a duet, only for the two to sound identical.

“...And that’s where I learned Keldabe Handshakes are applicable as a neutralizing tactic across species.” You finished, explaining the first and only time a Shriek-Hawk has successfully taken you off guard.

“Charming.” A voice hissed, and then a pair of boots dropped to the ground with a soft thunk. “Echo, shouldn't you be putting your toys away? It’s late.” Crosshair slunked into the cockpit, seemingly from the shadows. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I must be a pretty expensive toy to trade for speeder brakes.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised you’ve never been with someone and lost track of time, Cross. That does tend to require social skills and, y’know, liking people?” Echo crossed his arms and stared his brother down.

“Well unless they’re taking your bunk, you should tell Tech someone’s joining him in the cockpit tonight. It’s too late to take them back now.” Crosshair seemed to spit the last part of the sentence, annoyed that someone else is in his space and bothering his brothers. While you understood hesitancy, you felt as if he reveled in his current position rather than proceeding with caution.

Echo turned to you and looked into your eyes softly. “It’s up to you.”

“I’m already cramping an already small ship. I can kick it up here with Tech for the night.” You said, smiling. While you very badly wanted to just crawl into Echo’s bunk with him, you weren’t doing that the first day. Plus, you don’t know how Echo feels about his personal space, or his sleeping positions, or if he prefers one side of the b—

“How touching.” Crosshair cut off your thoughts with the remark. He spun on his heel, and disappeared just as quickly as he appeared. Echo sneered at the doorway.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping up here. Like I said, Tech can be a lot sometimes.” Echo looked back at you, eyes full of worry.

“Tell you what, I’ll come get you if he’s being too much and we can switch, okay?” You compromise, getting the understanding that Echo’s going to worry either way.

“Deal.” Echo said firmly with a nod, and stands up. “For as much of a dick as he is, Crosshair’s right, it is rather late.” You nod and shrug slightly in agreement.

Echo turns to you and leans down. “Try and get some rest.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek before turning on his heel and borderline speeding out of the room.

When the door shuts automatically, you ghost your hand along your cheek, and an uncontrollable smile breaks across your face.

I think he likes me.

by the recommendation of exactly two (2) people i’m making the echo one shot (x) a liiiiiiittle bit longer so i thought i’d put a lil snippet here :P

Brake Check: Chapter 2 snippet

gender neutral pronouns, no use of y/n, teen(??) rating

The sun had begun to slump lazily in the sky. Outcroppings of clouds blotted around it, allowing the rays to gleam down rather than the barrage of heat from early this morning. Hues of bronze and amber were slathered across the atmosphere, partly due to the dust in the air. Here past the city limits, one became acutely aware of the planet’s true climate. Roves of sand and limestone were all the eye would be met with for miles. Large, twisted succulents shot randomly out of the ground, their insides bitter and viscous with water from a long many cycles ago. The stubborn fauna was a mirror image of the people that inhabited this planet. Fierce and unyielding, hoarding what little resources are to be found, if only to assure survival for longer than tonight.

While the sun had dipped in severity, your emotions seemed to not get the memo. In fact, your heart was rattling your ribcage and wracking your nervous system. In a matter of hours you had your first customers in days, albeit shallow pocketed, and instead of doing the proper salesperson-like thing and talking Echo down to another product, you ran his pockets and asked him out.

And he said yes.

Well, not in those words. But it wasn’t a No. Or a Sure, why not. And that’s more than enough for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Echo was relying on the speeder handlebars to maintain his grip on reality.

Echo tried not to get his hopes up whenever he noticed wandering eyes on him in the past. He’d said it jokingly, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was just happy you weren’t looking at him in disgust.

Or worse, someone to pity.

You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his metal arm and scomp. You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his gait on the way to the counter. Hell, you didn’t even make mention of the piece wrapping around his skull. He didn’t even have to ask.

And now you were wrapped around his back, pushing your weight into him as he ripped across the wastes. Your arms were slinked around his core, hands folded and your pinky ghosting across the tip of his navel. While Echo’s own hands on the speeder was his current tether to reality, the warmth of your hands was equally coaxing him back out. Coaxing him backwards to rest his shoulder blades on your chest, coaxing him to let go of the handlebars, coaxing him to close his eyes, savor the moment. But he doesn’t. The same steadfast, battle-tested resolve that made him an ARC Trooper, all of that resolve, is being called upon at this moment.

Echo flicked the gear shift forward and pressed his foot down evenly, eyes honing in on the gray dot of the Marauder coming into view on the horizon.

SURPRISE SHAWTYYY

secondest one shot ever. echo's been growing on me recently icl y'all.

Brake Check

gif credit :)

rating/cw: teen, irl swears/star wars swearing, vague mentions of drugs, canon violence

3.6k words, gender neutral pronouns, zero use of y/n

i might keep this one going if i think up anything else. may or may not be based on my experiences at my own gig.

reblogs are always appreciated :)

The sun shone fiercely over the city, baking the industrial landscape in amber and gold. It was the closest that the durasteel and brick would ever get to being a part of nature, and in a way, the old buildings seemed thankful. Thankful to be unmoving against the planet’s own turmoil. To stand straight, stiff, and unforgiving against the gales that whipped through the streets like wind tunnels.

You very much wish you could be a building right now.

Contrasting to your surroundings, you were very much bothered by the sun in your eyes and wind in your hair. You squinted and kept a hand over your eyes as you puttered through the streets, gauging movement and distance by the tiled stonework on the ground. Your hair whipped at the corners of your face, always just out of reach when you went to swipe them away, giving way to a mood that the sun beating down on your neck was not helping.

Just a few more paces, a lock, and an alarm. You thought to yourself, mentally calibrating for the tasks following.

You were opening your store. At least, that’s what you’d tell anyone if they bothered asking. In reality, you were opening a store you were hired to manage. You were hired as a friendly, trustworthy face that was more or less just responsible for making sure nothing got stolen. The real owner, on the other hand, rarely could bother to make an appearance. So, by all customer accounts, it’s your store. The thought of this brought warmth to your chest.

Pride, albeit in fake ownership, but pride in your work nonetheless.

You found yourself at the front of the store. Large, ornate marble slabs stacked up to the door. Marble steps that were once a hallmark of the city, that dotted every home, now lay cracked, chipped, and closer to oyster gray than marble white.

You trudged to the front glass door. Opening it with a whine, the door found purchase on your hip as you flipped the plastic door sign to “Open”. You glance over at the keypad, and punch in your door code - 0501.

Immediately upon stepping into the small, darkened room, you’re greeted with shrill chirps. The piercing tones shot through the still air and bounced off the walls.

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’m coming.” You gripe, talking to the ancient security system that by no means would actually respond. You walk towards the corner of the small shop, eyeing a white panel with a dimly lit green screen. You grimace as you punch in your security code, trying not to become overstimulated by the alarm.

“Disarmed. Ready to arm.” A feminine robotic voice declares, and you hum in content as you turn around and begin to open up your store.

Flip those lights, plug that in, unlock the window guard, count the cash.

The mental list flashed through your mind, though it was almost immediately pushed out by a myriad of other thoughts. Your mind was abuzz, just like any other day. You glanced around at the small, cramped storefront. Your eyes raked the shelves, not looking for anything in particular, simply cataloging with your eyes. Your store sold mainly spaceship parts, among other things; though judging by the dust collecting on the deflector shield projectors, you’d almost be led to believe that no one on the planet had even scraped the sky.

You rounded a counter to make way to the register. The counter was an upside down L-shape, clear glass panes encasing a durasteel frame with sliding doors on the seller side. A smaller, similar-yet-straight case sat parallel on the right, making a perfect little square entrance for you to swing around. Such large display pieces seemed comically out of place in the small store front, as they essentially divided the room in half. Inside, the three rows that spanned the length of each side of the L were cluttered. Cluttered with trinkets that toppled over one another, as well as a handful of dubiously legal recreational products and their respective accessories. Those, along with the cigarettes in cartons behind you, were probably the only reason the lights above you were even on, albeit flickering occasionally and making a rather unfortunate buzz. You shook your head, and unlocked the small, dingy cash register in front of you.

Methodically counting cash, your eyes wandered to the bay window at the front of the store. Outside of it laid sun-bleached stone streets, with few inhabitants venturing out this early in the morning. Those that did, moved sluggishly from the heat or in a feeble attempt to resist it. Most of them looked familiar, usually having come in and bought something in the past. Or the odd few who follow a stricter morning routine than you do, seeing them stroll by every morning since you’d arrived however many cycles ago.

Same old, same old, huh? You thought to yourself. Monotony creeps up on the best of us, I suppose. You silently laugh to yourself, a quick huff of air leaving your nose.

As if the universe was listening in on your internal monologue, a speeder comes careening down the block, the engine body screaming as the bike chewed through the brake disks like meringue. Atop this banshee was a young girl, cream blonde hair whipping behind her as she screamed with delight. You had hoped it was delight at least, though you’d never heard someone giggling with fear. Immediately following her was another speeder, albeit in much less disarray and in much more control. The pilot was a tall, slender, pale man with some form of plating on his head, covering his ears.

“Omega, you HAVE to brake before you turn, you can’t just hit every corner like Tech does!” The man called out, though it was muffled from the glass.

You placed the cash back in the register and paced towards the door. Curiosity was your main driving factor, although if something happened to a child and you didn’t do anything… Well, you were sure your brain wouldn’t let you live it down.

You cracked the large door and peered out through the smaller glass door in front of it. You breathed out in relief, not realizing you were holding it in, as you saw the girl almost entirely unharmed.

“Echo, I’m fine! Plus, you said it yourself before we grabbed them that they looked like ‘hunks of junk’.” The girl made air quotes at her companion to emphasize her point. He, presumably named Echo, sighs in response, barely audible through the door but recognizable by the way his shoulders slumped. You couldn’t see it, as his back was to you, but the clone took his one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Wait, one hand?

You had seen your fair share of clones, both on your home planet and where you now found yourself. However, with his back to you, and with your eyes zeroing in on his scomp, you were none the wiser of the man outside your shop’s origins, other than his name probably being Echo.

The girl, which you assumed was named Omega, noticed you standing in your doorway.

“Maybe we can ask them for help” She spoke aloud, looking past her companion to look directly at you. You respond in part by opening the door and poking your head out.

“So, you crash in front of stores often?” You call out to the girl, smiling softly. Her companion turns around at the sound of your voice.

Hello there.

The man, now recognizable to you as a clone, was much more muscular than you had anticipated. With broad shoulders causing his pauldrons to peek out just a hair more. His hair was a buzz cut, the deep blue-black hue of his just-barely-there hair contrasting against his pale skin.

He waved his hand at you.

“I’m trying to not let her make it a habit but someone was recently taught what drifting was. Do you happen to sell speeder parts?” He punctuated his statement with a playful jab to the girl’s ribs, which elicited a giggle.

“As long as you don’t mind wiping dust off of them, I’m sure I can find something for y’all.” You replied, and you stepped out on the porch to open the door and let the two in. They quickly followed suit and headed towards you.

“I’m Omega by the way, and this is my big brother Echo.” The girl chirped as she walked by.

You smiled and gave your name in response. “Pleasure, it’s been a while since I’ve had real customers”.

“What’s a real customer?” She said, spinning around to look back at you once she filed into the small room.

“Someone actually buying parts, instead of what’s in the case.” You reply, as you turn your back and begin parsing the shelves for speeder brake parts. Immediately you regret this decision.

“What’s in the case?” Omega piped, and before you can turn around her face is pressed to the glass, memorizing its contents.

“Oh!—Uh, adult stuff, Omega. You really shouldn’t worry about it.” You said sheepishly, and you began to walk over to try and find something else for her to look at, but before you could Echo interjects.

“They’re right Omega, you have no business with this kind of stuff. Let’s just focus on the parts we need so we can get back to the ship before too long” He says, before clasping her on the back. She huffs, but obliges and stands up.

“So I have the parts you’re looking for, however the brakes come as a complete set. So you may end up with extras if you didn’t break the entire thing.” You explain, and waggle a box in the air.

“Judging by the sound when we came in, I’d imagine we’ll probably use the whole kit. I hope we don’t scare off too much foot traffic with the repairs.” Echo quipped, accompanied by a soft smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought the man was flirting with you.

“Foot traffic?” You fake gawk. “Ain’t from ‘round here huh?”

Echo chuckles, and his eyes shone a little bit lighter. The bright honey-brown was rather stark against his skin, making it even more difficult not to get lost in them. The normally-dull blue hue of the overhead plasma lights made them pop out a bit more now that you were inside.

“Well, in any case, we’ll be out front for a bit. Appreciate the help.” Echo nodded and began to take his leave with Omega in tow.

“Last I checked the sign out front didn’t say charity.” You spoke, holding back a laugh with your teeth on your bottom lip.

Echo stopped dead in his tracks, and paused for a moment to reflect on what you meant. He sighed when it finally dawned on him.

“My apologies. Omega, take this out front and start taking the speeder apart while I pay for this.” He handed the box to the girl, and she skipped out the door.

Echo walked up to the counter, albeit awkwardly. Like his hips were too heavy. That’s when you noticed his legs. Or rather lack thereof.

“The heat and humidity makes my joints lock up sometimes.” He stated, noting your staring. Your eyes went wide.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I had only noticed your scomp earlier when we were outside.” You said quickly, trying to alleviate any awkwardness. You had just met the man, you weren’t trying to immediately make a handsome stranger hate you.

“It’s nothing new for me, though I did appreciate the lack of disgust in your face” He joked, self-deprecatingly.

Your eyebrows shot up, a mixture of quizzical and confused. “Everyone in the galaxy has or knows someone with augmentation at this point. What makes yours so gross?” You replied, emphasizing ‘gross’ with a sarcastic voice.

The man shrugged. “Most clones don’t look like me.”

You nodded. “Not exactly a GAR approved clone preset, I gather?”

“Sort of, I guess? I got placed with an experimental clone unit during the war, seeing as how I didn't fit in with the regs anymore.” He responded, now talking with his hands and relaxing his posture. You typed in the total for the engine kit into the register.

“Regs?” You ask, not looking up, but still very much invested in the conversation.

“Regular clones. The ‘approved presets’ as you called them. My unit is nothing of the sort, so I saddled up with them.” He replied with ease, while fishing into one of his waist bags for his credit pouch.

“I see. Well, your total’s gonna be 635 credits.” You chirp, looking up at Echo’s face, only to watch it drop.

“Six thirty five?” He half whispered, somehow going a shade paler. He had about 350 credits left in his pouch after the sorely needed supply run. However, if he couldn't fix the speeder, it wouldn’t matter.

Sensing his trepidation, and also using the moment to steal a few glances at how his biceps push against his armor with his arms crossed, you got an idea.

“Tell you what. Give me what you got, and I’ll smooth over the rest if you take me to dinner” You said in a joking tone, testing the waters.

Echo’s ears tinged pink and his cheeks warmed up at the thought. He pretended not to notice the way you sized him up when you met a few moments ago, but something about your attention on him at that moment made his stomach trip over itself. That feeling piqued his curiosity, but his response was laced with trepidation.

“I honestly don’t even know where we’d go. I’ve never been planetside here, and I’m sure you don’t want to eat the ration bars let alone smell what’s on the ship”

You shrugged. “Beats the stale air here. Plus for as many parts as I carry, I’ve never actually been on a ship.” You felt rather sheepish at your white lie, your eyes scanning the floor.

“The Marauder it is. What time were you thinking?” Echo asked. You couldn’t see it, but his fingers were twitching against his thigh, and the back of his neck was bright red. He hadn’t been on a date since he was still with the 501st, and even then it was usually a random one-off with someone he met at 79’s. By then the alcohol would be long gone and he would realize he’d spent the previous night with someone with bantha-shit for brains.

“Honestly? I could help you with repairs and we could head out. Not like I’d be missing out on any money.” You reply coolly, trying your best to have a ‘we can do whatever’ attitude as you leaned your weight onto one hip and cocked your head.

Inside, you were having ironically the same conundrum as Echo. You hadn’t been on a date in Force knows how long, your work clothes weren’t exactly date material, and holy kriff how did that actually work? You said it on a whim, ready to laugh it off to him and sob into your pillow about it later. Your brain had finally caught up to what you were up to, who you were now going on a date with, what you were doing, how you got there, and how his kid little sister wrecking outside your store was the best thing that could’ve happened.

“Are you gonna help me put this bike back together or are you two gonna flirt all day?!” A shrill voice called from outside.

Right, Omega, kriff.

Both you and Echo flinch and sigh at the sound of her voice. The temperature in the room also seemed to rise a few degrees, even if only for the two of you. You sigh, grabbing the credits Echo left on the counter and lock up the register. You make your way around the counter, and join him as he makes his way towards the door.

Once again faced with his back, your eyes wander down to where his hips meet his metal lower half. Somehow, his blacks tuck neatly into them, or maybe they’re clipped somewhere, you don’t know. You stifle a small laugh at the thought.

As you make your way outside, the thought crosses your mind of Echo’s legs having built in shirt fasteners. Then, before you can stop yourself, you let out a giggle at the thought of Echo having garters for his blacks underneath the armor and over his robotic legs.

Echo turns around at the sound. His eyebrow is raised quizzically, but his eyes betray him. He looks a little sad, worried that you’re laughing at him or Omega or their situation.

Noticing his composure change, you are now forced to have your queries answered.

“How do your blacks stay on if you don’t have them on your lower half? I thought it was like a jumpsuit?”

Echo was bewildered at the question. He cocked his head, and then settled on a response.

“They just .. fit? Like the shirt sits where it’s, supposed to? And it doesn’t move.” He shrugged, never having put much thought into it. “What about that made you laugh?”

“I imagined you having little garters or fasteners on the legs underneath.” You quietly replied, looking at the ground, mildly embarrassed.

Now it was Echo’s turn to laugh. His nose crinkled and he squeezed his eyes shut, and you made a mental note of the sound that came out of the sweet man’s mouth.

“Very funny. Echo can you please put this brake back on?” Omega piped up, exasperated. She loved her brother dearly and was very amused to see him interacting with you in such a manner, however she didn’t anticipate this would require her soloing her speeder rebuild.

“Sorry kiddo, I got you.” Echo crouched down and rested his hands on his knees, surveying what work Omega had done in his leave. She had actually finished about ¾ of the work, and Echo made a mental note to thank Tech profusely for his tutelage when they got back to the ship.

While he made quick work of what was left of the speeder, Omega busied herself with getting to know you. She plopped herself on your front stoop, and materialized some Mantell Mix from inside her jacket pocket. She threw a handful in her mouth, but before proceeding to chew she primed you with one of soon to be dozens of questions.

“Why’d you set up shop here?”

You frowned slightly, as there was no fun answer to this question. The Siege drove everyone off of Mandalore, if they survived. This planet just happened to be in the same section of The Rim and was taking refugees. Setting up a shop was never in the cards on your home world, but despite your utter lack of knowledge of retail, you relished the opportunity to do something different. Start completely anew. Though a part of you balked at sharing your past, this young girl seemed wiser than she let on and you enjoyed actually talking to someone outside of the usual “How are you” “Good, thanks” “Your total’s 45 credits” “Have a good day”. So, against your better judgment, you indulged her.

“Well, Mandalore doesn’t really exist, at least in its full capacity,” You sucked in your teeth. “And I didn’t trust that old Coruscanti freighter to leave the star system. Plus, the owner of the place doesn't like people too much and would rather just collect a paycheck.” You shrugged.

Upon mention of Mandalore, a thunk came from the speeder. Not loud enough to draw your attention over, thank Force, but enough to be heard. It was Echo dropping a tool. While Kamino wasn’t as much of a home to him as he imagined you would regard Mandalore, it was a similar weighty feeling. If all else failed, there was nowhere for either of you to go. There was no home. Sure, The Marauder and your little studio apartment were where the two of you resided, but that’s not where you’re from. Plus, it’s kind of difficult to compare a ship and a box room barely bigger than the storefront to an entire planet.

“This isn’t your store?” Omega replied, sensing it easier to focus on the latter half of your statement. You shook your head.

“For all intents and purposes, it’s mine. I run the day to day, order the products, harass people to actually get it delivered, everyone knows it’s me who runs it. But I don’t own it, no.”

Omega nodded in understanding, and was immediately buried in thought. Her dark brows knitted together as her brain formulated questions faster than she could ask. She nodded once more, seeming to have landed on a fitting one. But before she could ask, Echo piped up.

“The brakes are fixed up. We should be able to head back to the ship” Echo began to get up, but before he turned around he shot a question that you were dreading. Well, more of a statement.

“I thought you said you’ve never been on a ship?”

You gawked at him and then trained your eyes to the ground, suddenly very interested in the species of weeds that had taken hold in the cracks of the ground. You didn’t have any good excuses, and you’d already been caught in one lie.

“Got you to say ‘yes’ to the date, didn’t it?” You muttered weakly, knowing that this could very well end in him cursing you out and leaving you to your lonely little shop.

Echo sighed. He didn’t like lying, but the reason for it warmed his cheeks. He realized you just wanted an ‘in’. To hang out with him, of all people. He wasn’t used to someone, anyone, making that kind of effort to spend time with him.

“It did, though I’d have probably said yes otherwise.” It was his turn to reply coolly and pretend that his heart’s not in his throat for even uttering the words. He coughs in a feeble attempt to clear it. “Either way, are you two ready?”

You nodded and looked at Omega, who responded by excitedly getting up and hopping on her speeder. Echo walked a few feet, and grabbed his own by the handlebars. Before you could ask who you were riding with, he re-parked the bike in front of where you were standing so you could easily step off of the curb and onto the back.

“When’d you get smooth?” You chide, grabbing Echo’s shoulder for leverage as you kicked your leg over the side. Your feet found purchase above the altitude controls, gripping the cargo compartment with your legs to maintain balance. You brought your hands down and let them rest in your lap as Echo kicked over the ignition.

“Since I found a reason to be smooth.”