#that he puts in the murderers' crosshairs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

questforgalas · 9 months

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Thank you for coming back

Notes: So once again, @zaana's incredible art lived rent free in my head until I put it down on paper. So here's a delightful AU where Crosshair doesn't get sent to Tantiss because guess who gets to him first? Chose to do a rescue from Barton IV because Cross is in his imperial armor in the art, and I thought "Hey, let's maybe give him a break and not make him go through torture before he's rescued?" Neat idea, right? Let's tell Jen and Brad

WC: 3K (lol this was going to be a drabble)

Characters: The Bad Batch (all of them!)

Tags: Wrecker POV (he deserves all the Crosshair reunion energy), angst at the end (Crosshair is going through it ok), hurt/comfort, giant family group hug, Crosshair and Wrecker cry, Hunter is emotional, canon typical violence, implied mistreatment by the Empire (did I mention Crosshair is going through it?), family reunion, all the family fluff I could fit into 3k words

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The sound of blaster fire was becoming permanent in Wrecker’s ears. Hunkered down behind a duracrete barrier, he kept his DC-17 trained on the Imps attempting to advance on his position, blaster bolts streaming past his head.

“Seriously, who trained these guys to shoot,” he thought to himself, needing to only dodge a few bolts from the barrage while his targets fell with each pull of his trigger.

The landing platform at the depot on Barton IV was looking more like a true battlefield and less like a remote outpost with every passing minute. Two T-4 shuttles lay in smoking ruins - the first thanks to Hunter’s skill on the Marauder’s rear gun and the second thanks to an excellent detonator throw by Wrecker - and stormtrooper bodies lay scattered across the duracrete ground. So far, Wrecker and Hunter were executing their part of the plan perfectly, but when it came to creating distractions, there wasn’t much guess work as to Wrecker’s success rate.

The Batch’s intel told them that the depot, located on a desolate, frozen planet that rivaled Hoth’s icy temperatures, normally operated as a blip on the Empire’s priority list. In fact, blip might have been giving it too much credit. The small clone trooper squad that was assigned to protection detail put in requests for equipment, supplies, and reinforcements throughout their year of service, and every request fell on deaf imperial ears. Gathered from the information Tech found during his hacking, Commander Mayday of the squad put in a request for reinforcements 40 rotations ago, citing that only five members of his squad remained alive at the time the request went in, but Tech couldn’t find any log of a response anywhere in the records. Complete silence from the Empire.

Until 4 rotations ago. The call went out for a platoon of stormtroopers to ready for deployment to Barton IV with orders to transport cargo of high importance to the Empire from the depot to the military base on Coruscant. Prior to the platoon’s arrival, a small squad of clone troopers was sent to scout and ready the depot for the cargo transfer. The squad consisted of two standard troopers and one specialized. One prickly, stubborn, unyielding specialized trooper who Wrecker couldn’t wait to see again.

When Tech caught chatter that a clone trooper shot a commanding imperial officer in broad daylight in front of an imperial depot, he initially intended to send the intel directly to Captain Rex, informing him of another defecting clone who would be in need of assistance, but after he scanned the information log, he didn’t register his datapad falling from his hands, thudding on the floor, only able to to focus on activating the comm on his vambrace, urging Hunter to get to the Marauder as quickly as possible. Because there in front of him, written across the Marauder’s main computer, was CT-9904: Defector. Charged with the murder of Lieutenant Nolan. In custody on Barton IV. Scheduled for armed transfer in two rotations.

The discussion was short - Hunter the only one remaining cautious until Tech confirmed the lack of security at the depot, even with the stormtrooper platoon coming in - and the Batch set their course to Barton IV less than two hours after the message was intercepted. The plan was easy, one the Batch could nearly execute in their sleep, even with their newer blonde addition. Create a distraction to draw the majority of security out into the open which Hunter and Wrecker would engage while Omega provided cover from the Marauder. Meanwhile, Tech and Echo skirt along the edge of the chaos, slip into the depot undetected, locate Crosshair’s location, and extract him while neutralizing any remaining threats if necessary.

Plans 5, 4, and 21. The Batch specialty.

“Wrecker, incoming! Northwest!” Hunter’s smokey voice called over the commotion.

The far gate of the depot opened, ten stormtroopers running out to join the fight. “Yeah, I see ‘em, Sarge,” Wrecker confirmed. “They look excited to see us.”

Hunter took cover behind his barrier, and turned his head in Wrecker’s direction.

“How about you give our hosts a warm greeting?” Hunter suggested, cocking his head to the side. Wrecker could feel the smug smirk under that helmet.

“Gladly,” Wrecker responded gleefully.

Reaching into the pack on his back, he grabbed two thermal detonators, clicked them live, and chucked. They arced into the air, curving in opposite directions, landing right in the middle of the oncoming troopers, and Wrecker watched as all ten stormtroopers disappeared into a beautiful burst of orange, red, and black.

“Direct hit,” Wrecker yelled, pumping his DC-17 in triumph.

Across the way, Hunter gave a quick thumbs up and popped his head above his barrier. Wrecker did the same, confirming that the landing platform was clear of imps for the moment, but they knew more troopers would arrive soon. They’d only taken out about 30 of them so far.

“Agh, where are they,” Hunter wondered, helmet trained on the door they expected to see their brothers emerge from.

“Give ‘em a few more minutes, Sarge. I doubt the Empire just left Crosshair in a set of binders on a crate.”

“They’re dumb enough to,” Hunter said. A soft chuckle came through his modulator, “Wonder how long he’d humor them until he took them all out with his hands still bound.”

“Knowing Crosshair? They wouldn’t even get the binders on him,” Wrecker laughed.

Hunter went quiet, helmet still pointed at the door. Then his shoulders fell like he was bowing to a weight Wrecker couldn’t see. “We’ll have to be patient. He’s…” Hunter paused. “He’s probably not the Crosshair we remember. There are going to be some … invisible wounds.”

Wrecker released his own shuttered breath. He looked down at the ground for a moment, and then looked back up to find Hunter looking back at him. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes. We’ll help patch those up too.”

Hunter remained still for a breath and then nodded.

The silence was interrupted by a chime on Hunter’s comm. “What’ve you got, Omega?” he asked as he activated the connection.

“I’m picking up multiple heat signatures heading our way. Looks like our little break is over,” Omega’s voice chirped over the comm.

“Copy that,” Hunter responded.

Wrecker brought his own comm up to his mouth. “What’s your count, kid?” he asked playfully.

“I’m at 4,” Omega answered, a smug tone floating through.

“Only 4? You’re falling behind. I’m at 18,” Wrecker said.

“I don’t think the thermal detonators should count,” Hunter interjected.

“What?! Did you see how perfectly those landed? Probably my best yet! Not even Tech could pull that off.”

“It’s hardly fair when I’m all the way back here on the Marauder!” Omega argued.

“Excuses excuses, kid,” Wrecker teased. Their debate came to a quick halt when the remaining hangar doors of the depot opened, revealing the last wave of the platoon. “Alright, break time’s over. Shoot good, kid.”

The platform became engulfed in battle once again. Blaster bolts peppered the air. Thermal detonators flew. Line after line of stormtroopers tried to take the advantage on the two ground soldiers and their coverage, but Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega held them back with ease. Wrecker heard General Skywalker speaking to Hunter about something called meditation once - a staple Jedi practice of centering one’s mind and connecting with the force through quiet sitting - and while Wrecker wasn’t sure this would meet the Jedi standard, he imagined this was the closest to meditation he would ever come. Surrounded by the sounds of battle. Adrenaline pumping in his veins. He’d hit a point of focus that drowned everything else out, his mission the only thought in his mind. And he was dam good at it, too.

His DC-17 sang, and he let out a jovial laugh as he took down another line of troopers. As he focused on the enemies in front of him, the squad’s comm channel chimed in his helmet, and the only thing in the galaxy that could divert his attention from the battle in front of him called through the speakers.

“Hunter. Wrecker. We’ve got him. We’re approaching the exit. What’s the status of the platform?” Echo’s voice came through.

For a second, Wrecker and Hunter turned towards each other, both chests rising rapidly with fast breaths not caused by the battle in front of them, and Wrecker knew if he could see Hunter’s eyes, they’d reflect the same bottomless relief he was feeling.

Wrecker forced himself back to the present and provided cover fire while Hunter responded.

“You’re clear to exit. A few imps left but nothing we can’t handle. Wrecker and I will provide cover fire while you cross the platform. Go directly to the Marauder,” Hunter ordered.

Wrecker’s breath caught in his throat when a low, raspy voice could be heard in the background. “No, we thought we’d take a hike in the mountains.”

A hitched breath came through, and in his peripheral, Wrecker noticed Hunter lean his helmet back against the duracrete barrier, shoulders shaking.

“I never thought I’d miss his attitude,” Omega piped in.

That broke the tension building in Wrecker’s head, and a laugh barreled out from his chest. Brain clear and ready to act again, he focused on the remaining stormtroopers trying to hold their ground.

“Omega, get the engines running. We’re getting off this hunk of ice as soon as we’re all onboard,” Hunter finished relaying the orders.

“One more thing,” Tech’s voice came through this time. “I did the scan. The inhibitor chip has indeed been removed, but only after the encounter on Bracca. Crosshair did remove it voluntarily unbeknownst to the Empire.”

“Tech kind of refused to leave the holding cells until he was able to confirm it all. Hacked records and everything here on the depot. That’s what took us so long,” Echo supplied.

“Thank the Maker for Tech, and his stubborn need for knowledge,” Hunter mumbled. He went back on the comm, “Glad to hear it. Now get out here.”

Hunter turned to Wrecker. “Let’s take out as many as we can before they get here. Once they emerge, you lay down cover fire, and I’ll take overwatch.”

“Copy that,” Wrecker replied, and they went to work.

Time that had been passing at light speed slowed to the flow of Mustafar lava. Only ten stormtroopers remained posted across the platform, and Wrecker was determined to clear as many as he could before his brothers emerged.

Another minute passed. Another. Then another. Time was taunting him.

A whoosh floated over the blasterfire. The blasted door to the depot finally opened, and there in the doorway were three bent over figures - two supporting the weight of the third in between them - hobbling onto the landing deck. Wrecker allowed himself one glance hoping it would calm his running mind. Echo took most of the middle figure’s weight, flesh arm wrapped around their waist and scomp arm securing the arm wrapped across Echo’s back dangling over his shoulder, while Tech kept one arm around the figure’s waist and kept his blaster at the ready in the other.

As Wrecker glanced at them, it wasn’t the figure’s distinct all black armor - the armor of the imperial special forces - that identified him to Wrecker. No, it was the tattoo around their right eye. The tattoo Wrecker sat and watched as Tech gave it to them when they were still just cadets. The tattoo that represented their pride in their skill. The tattoo that told everyone exactly which batch he belonged to, front and center for all to see. The crosshair.

Flanking from behind, Tech easily took down three stormtroopers before they made their way down the stairs. The remaining seven stormtroopers barked out orders to fall back, trying to regroup due to the new arrivals, and Wrecker used their confusion to his advantage, taking out another three in one go. Realizing they were outnumbered and outmatched, the remaining four stormtroopers fell back to the hangar, shooting wildly at any target they could see.

Slower than Wrecker would like, his three brothers made their way to his and Hunter’s position across the platform. As soon as they crossed the threshold of their barriers, Hunter stood from his coverage, falling in step to provide cover directly at their backs.

“Alright, Wrecker. Let’s keep these guys pinned as we head to the ship,” Hunter said.

Jumping into position, Wrecker kept a steady pace back to the Marauder without breaking his fire on the remaining stormtroopers. Hunter hit one more as they walked, and Wrecker had his finger on the trigger to take down another when a streak of pink flew over his head and directly into the helmet of his target.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Final count: 12,” Omega beamed down at him from the top of the ramp into the Marauder.

“Aha! Nice shot, kid! Now let’s get out of here,” Wrecker said, barreling up the ramp into the ship.

The ramp closed up as the ship made its way into the air, and the energy within immediately went still. Tech sat in the cockpit, taking over the controls from Omega once on board, but Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Omega, and Crosshair remained in the hold.

Crosshair sat in the chair in front of the computer, slumped over, one hand on the armrest propping him while an elbow rested on a knee like that was all the energy he could muster. He was breathing heavy, chest rising and falling as if he’d just finished a training sprint back on Kamino. Wrecker quickly gave his body a once over. Crosshair had always been lithe, by far the smallest body mass of the Bad Batch, but there had been muscle underneath those long limbs that gave any regular clone trooper a run for his money. Now, Wrecker clocked only bones showing underneath the exposed areas his armor didn’t cover, and his cheekbones were sharp above the hollowness of his cheeks. Purple blotched under his eyes, and it was impossible not to notice the deep scar that covered the right side on the back of his head. The scar he received when he took the full heat of a Venator ion engine.

The same engine he tried to trap his brothers in.

“Thank you…for coming for me. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t,” Crosshair drawled, head bent down. Whether he was unable to lift it from lack of strength or not being able to face the current scene, Wrecker wasn’t sure. His own heart was thudding in his chest, threatening to burst out. He called on every ounce of discipline and self-restraint he learned in his years as a soldier and remained rooted in place, holding his breath. The rest of the Batch stood as still as statues, four sets of eyes on their silver-haired brother.

“You can drop me off at the closest port. You can pick. Doesn’t matter to me,” Crosshair said to the floor. Still, no one else spoke. He raised his head, glancing at each of them. His gaze settled on Hunter. “I…I’d understand if that’s what you want to do. It’s what you should do.”

The five of them felt the Marauder lurch into hyperspace, but still, Echo, Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker didn’t budge. Footsteps approached from the cockpit, and soon, Tech joined them, choosing to sit in the chair across from Crosshair. The silence grew, and Wrecked noticed the crease between the sniper’s eyebrows deepen while his eyes darted around the group.

“Well, aren’t any of you going to say something?” Crosshair asked, frustration creeping into his voice. He glanced around one more time, and finally stood up from the chair, a growl coming from his throat, back hunched like he was ready to pounce, and his gaze locked on Hunter, a finger pointed at the sergeant. “Listen, I didn’t ask you to come get me. I was ready to die on that platform after I shot the lieutenant, and I was ready to die in whatever maker-forsaken place they were going to send me. You hear me? I didn’t ask for this.” He gestured around the room, around the Batch.

“So don’t make me a burden you don’t want. Drop me anywhere. Leave me. It’s what I deserve - oof!”

Wrecker couldn’t take it anymore, and as he watched Crosshair teeter on the precipice of self-destruction, he took two strides towards his brother, and engulfed him in his arms.

Crosshair stiffened, his arms frozen mid-gesture to the side. Wrecker stood there, arms firmly wrapped around Crosshair’s back and shoulders, head dipping to rest on top of Crosshair’s head, and he waited. Eventually, Crosshair’s arms fell to his sides, but his body remained stiff like he wasn’t actually registering what was happening. Then, after a few breaths, his arms slowly rose, one wrapping under Wrecker’s arm and the other circling over his shoulder.

“Why did you come for me?” Wrecker heard muffled into his chestplate.

“We don’t leave our own behind,” Wrecker answered simply.

Wrecker felt the shaking first, then he heard the soft sobs. Tightening his arms, he held his once-lost brother as if challenging the galaxy to try and separate them again. When he felt Crosshair crumble into his chest, he released the grip he’d been holding on his own emotions, and the tears flowed freely. Tears of sorrow for what Crosshair endured. Tears of rage at the Empire. Tears of sweet relief at his family being whole again.

Wrecker felt a pair of arms sneak between his waist and Crosshair’s chest, and when he looked up, he saw Hunter wrapped around Crosshair’s back, arms crushing the sniper into the sergeant’s chest. “We’ve got you, Cross,” Hunter murmured.

One-by-one, Tech, Echo, and Omega joined in, the last squeezing herself into the middle, wrapping her arms around Crosshair’s leg, and even when the sobs quieted, they remained that way. There was a lot to talk about. A long road of trust to regain. They were about to navigate rough terrain. And the past will resurface, in old wounds, physical and not. But none of that mattered right now. In the middle of their home, a family reunited. Unsure what the future would bring them, but ready to face it all together.

#tay writes the bad batch #tay writes #divider by samspenandsword #the bad batch #star wars #hunter #wrecker #crosshair #tech #omega #echo #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb crosshair

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roseaesynstylae · 1 month

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So, the idea of the Bad Batch (minus Echo, plus Emerie) being the other half of the Nulls has consumed my goddamn mind. Therefore, as you do when an idea takes up residence in your frontal lobe for the foreseeable future, here's some headcanons.

The Bad Batch (except for Echo and Omega, who have no clue what's going on) hate the Nulls. As in, "murder on sight" hate them. From an in-universe perspective, there could be a myriad of reasons, ranging from feelings of abandonment to resentment over them having a better life. From a writer's standpoint, it's because I love me some good old familial dysfunction and angst.

The more...unhinged...tendencies the Nulls are known for manifests in the Bad Batch more as "let's jump off this cliff and use explosives to direct our fall!" and less as "hey, check out my new skin gloves!" Of course, if you push them too far, it's a different story. In order of least to most likely to pull a "lemme turn you into an art installation," it's Omega, Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech. Omega wouldn't do that, at least not at this point in her life. Wrecker, when enraged, goes for the just-hit-them solution. Hunter's a decent human being and usually wouldn't do something like that...Unless his kid's been kidnapped by a crazy Imperial doctor for the fifteenth time, on which point he starts becoming a little deranged. Crosshair hovers close to the line but wouldn't do it to someone unprovoked. Tech is a special case, in that he has to be pushed, but when he is, the results make the rest of the Nulls go "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST."

The Nulls want to reunite with their lost siblings and build a relationship, but that's kind of hard to do when said siblings (except Omega) keep trying to kill them on sight and none of them were built for intricate and deeply complicated emotional issues. Still, they persist. Eventually, they could probably get to the level of "awkward conversations" but it'll take a lot of work.

The Bad Batch have what makes the Nulls superior to regular clone troopers, plus their unique enhancements (which in this version are less defects and more Nala Se picking an attribute for each of them and cranking it up to 11). They feel that it makes them better than the Nulls, something they're not shy about expressing.

Emerie is the same height as her estranged (I can't think of a word that applies to this specific situation but this one will do) brothers, because I stan a tall queen.

Nala Se is smug as hell whenever she sees Orun Wa. "CT-9904 just broke all records for accuracy, CT-9902 discovered a new element, CT-9903 crushed beskar like it was paper, and CT-9901 tracked a man through five systems and a solar storm. What are your clones doing, again?"

There is no understating the sheer "wtf" that goes through the Nulls' heads when they first see Omega. But, of course, this is Omega. Imagine the cutest image of her you've seen, fanart or canon. That's what the Nulls see when they meet her. Unsurprisingly, the Nulls, who got the Mandalorian gene to adopt anything that isn't nailed down, go from "wtf" to "so smol 🥰" in roughly a minute.

Kal Skirata is in the corner. His attempt to interact with the Bad Batch did not go well. He casually calls Hunter "son," as he does with various characters, and the resulting explosion puts a thermal detonator to shame. Since it's clear that his presence is not making things better, he's sort of just in the corner.

The rest of Clan Skirata, and associates, are staying out of this. Gilamar and Vau took one look and retreated to the bar because they know better than to get involved. Everyone else witnessed one of the less acrimonious encounters and collectively decided that they are not jumping into the emotional equivalent of a pit of rabid wolverines.

Echo is the go-between. He does not want to be the go-between. But he's the only neutral party in this thing aside from Omega, and the rest of the Batch don't trust the Nulls with her.

Spare a though for 99. He raised four of these guys, often with the aid of leashes. Truly, he is an unsung hero of the Clone Wars

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badbatchsprincess · 20 days

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Heated ~ pt.8

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.

Warnings: Kidnapping, themes of Non!Con! beware, canon type violence, Y/N badassery, murder, Crosshair is turned on by Y/N committing murder, sorry but we know he would be, I don't make the rules I just enforce them.

I don't know why I loved writing this chapter so much it was so fun like imagining and creating a civilization in the star wars vibes. Also having a tiny homage to slave Leia iconic outfit lol don't mind me.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Still recovering from your heat, this long ride to wherever the Mimbanese were taking you was wearing you down. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling incredibly sore between your thighs, not to mention the pain in the rest of your body. Having four alphas at your disposal for a week had done sinful things to your poor body.

To say you were sore was an understatement.

Now your back was starting to hurt as his rifle bit into your spine with every gallop.

You had planned to lounge around for a few days before expecting to properly get back on your feet, but your plans had been derailed and now you were in the hands of a stranger and a strange people.

You were aware of the fact you were experiencing anxiety, but the last remaining embers of your heart still licked at your hindbrain dulling your senses a bit. All you could think about were your alphas.

They must be so worried.

~~~

The red clay earth rapidly changed, and soon a lush jungle neared you. The other riders sped up, forcing a tight formation as the animals approached an opening in the jungle wall. As you passed through, you noticed the flora and fauna matched the red and oranges of the mud fields too. Over the thundering sound of hooves, you could hear bird species screeching in the trees above and a rustling as the leaves danced in the wind.

You were trying to take everything in knowing this information may serve in your escape.

It didn’t take long for you to reach a clearing.

Upon approach, you watched the jungle reveal a massive stone wall that seemed to go on forever. You gawked as massive gates opened, allowing the war party to pass through before closing behind you with a massive locking mechanism falling into place.

You looked around, noticing villagers everywhere watching you strangely as the clan leader continued on his path to wherever he was taking you. You looked nothing like them; you were positive that's why they were staring so intensely. Then you realized the clan leader was taking you somewhere specific.

Up ahead, there was another tall wall inside the perimeter wall. More guards opened up the double doors, and you gasped.

Inside, there was a massive temple surrounded by gardens and billowing trees taller than those in the jungle outside the city.

All around these grounds were other females clad in crimson fabrics pausing what they were doing to watch you.

The Clan leader trotted to a stop, allowing you to take in the sight in its totality.

You were suddenly lifted from the saddle and settled into the grass below.

You looked around frantically, trying to find a potential escape, but you were greeted by other women… some human… you looked at them confused before they parted, making room for a smaller Mimban elder who scuttled over to you. You sucked in a breath as she approached.

She exchanged some words with the clan leader, who bowed his head in respect to the woman. She pushed forward, analyzing you with a scrutinizing eye. The clan leader then seemed to be explaining his actions while gesturing to you.

You swallowed thickly, feeling your anxiety eclipse whatever numbness you might of had.

She then took your hand into hers and studied the bruises around your wrist. You were certain those belonged to Tech. Then she clicked her tongue as she moved your collar to see Crosshair’s love bites.

She turned to the other women and said something before turning back to the temple. Very quickly, they flocked to you. You squeaked as they gently pushed you to follow the elderly woman, suddenly running their hands over your own in a friendly manner.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked, hoping they might understand basic.

One of the human girls whispered, "Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. It’s safe here."

You just looked at her, studying her face. It was painted with red designs, and her hair was plated back, showing off her dainty neck and collarbones. She donned a flowing red dress with luxurious-looking fabrics showing off her pale skin.

"Where is here?" You asked as the temple entrance approached. "I want to go home. Tell them to take me back to my pack."

"Are you mated?" She asked, taking your hand.

You shook your head no.

"Then you’re better off here," she nodded.

"But my alphas…" You whined, stepping inside the ancient building. The stone walls instantly made the temperature drop ten degrees and you shivered.

"They’ll understand soon," she gave you a sweet smile, taking the lead bringing you to the heart of the temple grounds.

~~~

"We gotta follow them!" Wrecker roared, feeling like his insides were being torn apart.

Like his brothers, he was horrified to watch you be wrenched from them. Taken from the nest with brute force.

"We are, Wrecker!" Tech snarled, looking at his data pad.

"They just took her! They fucking took her!" Crosshair was losing his mind. For the sniper engineered to be patient and still, it seemed his alpha instincts overrode his basic programming. He couldn’t deny the way his skin crawled with worry.

"What do they want with her?" Wrecker winced. "Why would they take Y/N?"

"I don’t even want to think about that," Crosshair hissed as his thoughts went to the absolute worst.

"Do you have their position?" Echo asked, looking to Tech.

"I do." He showed everyone his datapad. During the struggle, when he realized you were being taken from them, he slipped a tracker onto one of the guards. "It seems they took her to a city called Alise."

"How far?" Hunter growled.

"A few hours on foot," Tech replied, doing the math in his head, “We might be able to get there by sun down.”

"Let’s pack up and get moving," Hunter sprung into action.

They geared up and restocked their supplies before following the endless sets of hoof marks in the clay earth. Crosshair and Hunter hadn’t seen anything when they scouted a few days ago. He was hoping Tech’s info was correct.

~~~

"I- Ah!" You screamed as the Mimbanese women plunged you under the warm bathwater. You came back up coughing and sputtering, trying to wipe your eyes to see.

They had brought you to a natural hot spring inside the temple, and without warning, had stripped you down to your birthday suit. You didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed before you were being guided to the water, where they swarmed you with various scrubbing tools and soaps.

You looked up at the girl who had spoken to you moments before, but she just curled up on a fabric draped lounger with her friend while they talked, as if you weren’t being waterboarded by strangers just a few mere feet away.

You looked around, noticing there were only women here. The temple seemed to be a sacred space of sorts, as more of that same fabric was draped around the columns and ceilings. The floors were covered in red carpets, and lounging furniture was littered everywhere.

A warm cloth was brought to your skin as some sort of exfoliating cream was buffed into your flesh. More skilled hands worked some hair cleanser into your scalp. You fought back a sigh. It felt really nice to have someone else clean you.

It’s not like your alphas didn’t care for you, but they’re still men at the end of the day, and their hair washing skills were limited.

The warmed mineral water was doing wonders for your soreness. If anything, that made this a little enjoyable you felt yourself disarm a bit at their touch.

When they were satisfied with the job, they helped you out before cleaning themselves. You were brought over to the girl from before, and she stood up, extending a hand to you. You wrapped the crimson fabric around yourself a little tighter as she led you out to one of the windows. Here, were multiple vanity tables with mirrors and various creams and potions. She sat you down as her friend perched herself on the stool next to you with a kind smile.

"What is your name?" She asked, picking up a wooden comb from the table.

"I’m Y/N," you said quietly.

"Hi Y/N, I’m Taryn," she then gestured to her friend who had golden hair, "That’s Starla.”

"Where am I?" You asked, rubbing the fabric wrapping over your damp face.

"The city is called Alise," Taryn said, moving your hair to your back as she started gently running the comb through your tangled locks, "But this place is called the fortress." She waved the comb around at the temple.

"Why was I taken?" You shivered, fighting back tears. The only thing you wanted was to be in the arms of your alphas in your comforting nest right now.

"Tarook said he found you in the mud fields?" Taryn said, watching you nod in confirmation. "Anywhere outside the fortress isn’t safe for the women. They built this place to keep us safe."

"What’s in the mud fields?" You asked.

"Monsters," Starla said gravely, and you gasped.

Taryn gave her a disapproving look, "The men keep us safe here. They bring us everything we could need. There’s no need to worry."

"Can I leave?" You asked, and Taryn just eyed you through the mirror.

That was a no, you guessed.

"Who are these women?" You looked around.

"The elders, mothers, and the unmated," Starla said, "This place is a sacred site to their religion, but they use it now to protect us from the outside."

"Do the men ever come here?"

"Partners, sure. But not unless they’re mated. This place is just for us."

Taryn finished off a simple braid going down the back of your head and tied off the ends before standing to get Starla’s help finding you something new to wear. When they came back, they held various pieces of crimson fabric, and they got to work wrapping you in it.

You were thankful they covered your private bits, but the rest they let be exposed. The pieces all flowed into a skirt but left large slits on both sides trailing all the way up to your hips. The Mimban breeze blew the fabric softly and teased your legs.

You looked in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a dress on nonetheless something like this. You felt like one of the pin ups on in five’s bunk.

"So you blend in," Starla smiled and grabbed one of the pots on the vanity. She dunked her fingers in the red paste and brought it over to your face where she drew two thick lines from under your eyes all the way down your cheeks to your neck.

"You have an alpha?" She asked, noticing the love bites decorating your shoulder.

"Four. Actually," you were hit with sudden sadness, hoping you get to see them again.

"Four?" Starla’s eyes widened in shock but slightly impressed.

"Well, actually, there’s a fifth, but he’s platonic," you sighed, fighting back tears.

"Tarook took you from them?" She asked, a little horrified.

You nodded, "They tried to stop him, but there were too many."

Starla looked to Taryn, who looked a little distraught at the idea.

"That would explain these," Taryn picked up your wrist gently.

"I had just gotten through my heat when I was taken from them," you felt a tear slip, "I just want to go home." You gave them your best begging eyes hoping they’d take pity on you.

They sighed, sympathizing but in the end nothing came of it.

"I’m wondering if Tarook thought you had been hurt," she turned over your bruised wrists, "He might be strict, but he does care for us."

"My alphas are warriors. They can be a little rough, but they’d never hurt me," you sighed, pulling your wrists back and holding them close to your heart, "I don’t understand why your leader would do this."

"The fields are close to the Alooke," Taryn said.

"The Alooke?" You hadn’t heard that word before.

"They’re a clan of monsters," Starla whispered, "They’ve been terrorizing Mimban for generations. Alise was built to keep them out. They came from a nearby star system and have been taking the Mimbanese and killing them for sport."

"If you’re taken. You don’t come back," Taryn sighed.

You swallowed thickly, wondering how lucky you had been for the past two weeks.

"They particularly target women and children," Starla said, gesturing to all of the women moving about the temple, "That’s why they built the fortress."

"But you’re prisoners," you whispered.

"It’s better than the alternative, and we’re treated well."

You sighed in frustration. This was archaic, no matter the reasoning. A cage was still a cage regardless of title.

You had to get out of here. Alooke be damned.

"Will you show me around?" You asked, watching some of the elders locking arms and walking through the various corridors. You needed to learn this place and learn it fast if you were going to make an escape.

"Sure," they smiled and did the same. The three of you left the bathhouse to explore the inner city.

It was a lot larger than you had realized.

The inner city had multiple temples and many smaller private living domiciles. They showed you their rooms that they share with a few other human girls on the upper floor of the smaller western temple.

Between these ancient buildings, the gardens flowed along with a river that cut through the center of the city. The inner city was big enough you couldn’t see the walls from the other side. It gave the illusion that you weren’t trapped in a cage. It seemed like two thousand women resided here from what you estimated. They all wore the same color and had similar face paintings.

They seemed to be content. They laughed and gathered playing games you had never seen before in the little grass areas. There was an abundance of fruiting trees and gardens.

It almost seemed… like a utopia? No wonder they had no desire so leave.

Starla and Taryn found an empty bench under a huge tree and plucked a few fruits from a nearby basket handing one to you. It was a perfectly ripe meiloorun.

"Women from outside Mimban usually have an occupation," Taryn said, biting into the juicy fruit, "What do you do?"

“I’m a medic for the Grand Army of the Republic," you bit into the fruit, moaning at how sweet it was. You hadn’t had a fresh meiloorun in years, and the GAR ration packs tasted nothing like this, "I was stationed with the 501st battalion for a few years since the start of the war, then I transferred to my unit now. They’re a small group of commando soldiers. We’re sent on special missions that the other soldiers can’t do."

"Wow," Starla said in wonder, "So you’ve been all over the galaxy?"

You nodded, "I’ve been to many places. Each a little stranger than the next," you laughed quietly.

"Do you enjoy it?" Taryn asked with a hint of skepticism, "It sounds dangerous."

"Sure it’s dangerous," you smiled, remembering all of the adventures you’ve been on, "We’ve encountered pretty much anything you could think of. It is kind of nice not being shot at, I’ll admit. But I love my boys, and they work really hard for the GAR."

"War is hard," Starla sighed.

"It is," you agreed, "How did you both end up here?"

"My family was trying to flee Separatist occupation when I was brought here as a child," Starla explained, "The Alooke took them, and the elders took me in and raised me here."

"Similar story for me too. My family tried to rebuild a new life here when the Separatists showed up to try and start up a mining operation. Republic forces got us out in time. My mother is mated and lives in the outer ring with my father," she gestured to the gates.

“You know the GAR?” you asked.

Taryn nodded. “The clones, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Brave warriors,” she nodded.

“I wonder if it was my boys,” you laughed. “What color were their armor?”

“Green,” she reminisced.

“Ahh no, that wasn’t us.”

“How crazy would that have been,” she smiled, taking your hand and resting it in her lap.

As the crimson moon rose, the inner city of Alise was cast into eerie darkness. Torches and lanterns were lit to keep the gardens out of darkness. You were all summoned to dinner with a sound bell ringing from the main temple.

You and your new friends made your way through the gardens before stepping up the temple steps to wash your feet and hands before entering.

Once inside, you smiled seeing how many women of all ages gathered, including children. They played music, danced, and sung while the others ate. It was shocking to see, but nonetheless, it made you happy. There weren’t many places in the universe like this you realized.

Starla grabbed your hand and led you over to where the prepared food was. It consisted of some things you’d never seen before, but she eagerly filled your plate before her own and marched you three over to a pile of stacked pillows to lounge on and watch the festivities.

“Is it always like this?” you asked, digging into the delicious food.

“Yeah,” Taryn smiled. “We have a very close community.”

“I can tell,” you smiled. Okay, fine, maybe Mimban wasn’t so bad. You were slapping yourself for being too judgmental. It must be the hormones.

~~~

"I don't see her," Crosshair remarked, peering down his scope at the massive city below. The rocky hillside they perched on provided a perfect view over the jungle.

"There are two rings," Tech informed, looking at his data pad. "The inner ring has ancient Jedi temples. I think she'd be in the outer ring; that seems to be where the villagers live."

"Jedi?" Wrecker asked, pulling out his scope.

"Yes, that's what I said," Tech replied, grabbing his own to peer down.

"Notice anything strange about this town?" Crosshair drawled clearly noticing something.

"What..." Hunter zoomed in with his lenses.

"There are only men," Crosshair observed, moving his scope to survey the rest of the city.

"Where are the women?" Hunter asked noticing the crowd in the streets is only men.

"What's that?" Wrecker asked, ignoring Hunter's question.

"What's what?" Hunter looked to Wrecker.

"The temples," Wrecker zoomed in. "There are people walking around."

Crosshair honed in on the flickering lanterns of the temple. "The women…”

They all adjusted their macro binoculars to focus on the inner city. That's when they saw all of the women happily skipping towards the main temple grounds, holding hands and dancing to what they assumed was music. They were covered head to toe in crimson, looking joyous and happy.

"She has to be there," Hunter declared.

"Assuming the clan leader isn't holding her hostage himself," Crosshair added, not entirely convinced.

"I don't think he would," Tech interjected, reading through the information about the Mimabnese. "I think Alise was built to protect their women. It says here that they have a long history of battling off a pirate stronghold called the Alooke. The pirates colonized this land and have been enemies of the indigenous for many generations, stealing their women for breeding."

Hunter didn’t like the sound of that one bit…

"So, you think they're keeping her in that temple?" Crosshair asked, looking through the various corridors from the outside. He couldn't really tell the difference between the various females; they were all wearing the same thing.

"Most likely," Tech affirmed.

"Alright, let's get moving before—"

Crosshair cut off Hunter, "We got movement in the north."

On the other side of the city, a dust cloud formed in the distance. Upon closer inspection, they noticed dozens of speeders making their way from the direction of the Marauder.

"You don't think they found our ship, do you?" Echo was getting a little worried now.

"It would be likely," Tech informed. "I'm guessing it's those pirates."

"They didn't bother us for two weeks. I don't think it's reasonable to think they'd start today of all days," Hunter watched them heading full speed for the city.

"What did that guy say to us earlier?" Echo narrowed his eyes through his binoculars before turning to face his squad. "He said that this place was no place for a female. Then he took Y/N…”

"Don't remind me," Hunter said, growing angry.

"No, I think he knew they'd come."

Crosshair crossed his arms. "We were sitting ducks for two weeks. If they were going to raid us and take Y/N, they would have done it already."

"Not if they didn't know she was there," Echo pointed out.

Suddenly, they realized you barely left the ship because of how upset you had been after the crash. The only time you had left was to help push the ship in the earlier days.

Echo pointed to the city again, "You saw their reaction when she popped her head out. They were shocked, and they had been watching us for who knows how long before I noticed."

"You think they saw her go into the city?" Hunter asked.

"She was fresh out of heat. No doubt they're hunting her scent trail," Echo's mechanical heart started beating a little faster, realizing you had probably unintentionally led them right to the hidden city.

"Why would they attack the city? It's massively fortified," Crosshair noted, observing all of the sentries patrolling the upper rim of the walls and the guard towers looking outwards. There were only two gates, one on the north end and one on the south. The place was like the citadel. "They'll sustain massive casualties."

Echo shrugged. "Maybe for an omega, they would risk it?"

"Then we need to go," Hunter stood up, grabbing his pack. “Now."

~~~

You smiled, holding hands with the little girl who led you around the dance floor. You didn’t know why the little Twi'lek girl picked you, but you couldn’t deny her. Her mother seemed content letting her play with you, so you just smiled and followed her lead.

Starla and Taryn clapped along with the music, giggling as they watched you enjoy yourself.

When the song was over, it seemed that everyone was eager to retire to bed.

The girls walked with you back to where you’d be staying with them until the this whole thing can be resolved.

Once inside the large converted bedroom, they helped you build a pallet of pillows and blankets like their own by the breezy airway.

You washed up before bed in one of the metal basins, and Starla helped you take the pins out of your hair, freeing your now dry and clean locks.

With a quiet goodnight, you curled up on the pallet and pulled the woven blanket up over you.

You sighed, feeling a bit of anxiety over the whole situation. Dinner was a good distraction, but now that you were left to listen to the river down below and the call of the night birds, you were left with your own thoughts.

Were your alphas coming for you? Were they already here? Or were they injured in the struggle?

What if they needed you to heal them and you weren’t there? You were starting to feel the tears again as the pull of your heart pained in your chest. You knew they were coming.

They always came for you.

You tried your hardest to find a comfortable spot that would allow you to close your eyes and try to forget the situation you were in, but you couldn’t help but hear some kind of commotion outside.

It was like there was a shift in energy, and it forced you up into a seated position. You looked around at the other girls, but they seemed to be comfortably asleep, not hearing what you were.

Something made the hair stand up on the back of your neck as you tried your hardest to listen. You wished you had Hunter’s hearing, but whatever was making your body alert, you knew it wasn’t good.

Standing up, you wrapped the blanket around yourself and stepped out from under the cover of the marble columns onto the exposed patio. Your hair whipped around in the breeze as you looked out over the inner city.

The torches and lanterns danced in the breeze, casting orange light everywhere. That's when you noticed something moving in the distance: the wall just off to the right had guards jogging back and forth, guns in hand.

You narrowed your eyes, making sure you were seeing the right thing, when you felt Starla near, rubbing her eyes and approaching you. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Something’s wrong,” you replied, pointing to the wall guards.

She squinted her eyes, trying to see in the dark. When she realized the guards were not in their normal watch positions, she gasped and skittered back into the room, waking Taryn.

Was it your alphas? You wondered, feeling a bit of hope fill your chest. They were coming to rescue you from this gilded cage.

Taryn awoke a little grumbly, but her attitude changed when she finally saw what was happening.

“There’s been a breach,” her eyes widened like saucers. “Go warn the others,” she turned to Starla, who sprinted out of the room.

“What do we do?” you asked, stepping back from the patio and back into the bedroom.

“We hide,” she said, leading the way to a red carpet hanging on the wall.

“Do you have weapons?” you asked.

She just gave you a look.

“This place is so ass-backwards,” you shook your head and followed her as she lifted back the tapestry, revealing a narrow passageway.

From beyond the stone walls, you heard a loud warning siren go off, letting you know Starla was successful. The blonde came running back shortly after, squeezing into the passageway with the two of you.

Just beyond the narrow pass was a small room with a candle and matches, which Taryn lit to light up the room.

From inside, you could see the ancient carvings from a time long ago. It seemed like a meditation room if you were correct. There were star maps of the entire galaxy and ancient primordial beings that seemed to be carefully depicting the beginning of the Jedi.

You’d seen this particular mural before on Coruscant… This place was a Jedi temple?

Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of blaster fire.

The two girls yelped upon hearing it, but you were just trying to figure out how many guns were firing. It was way more than five, you deduced. It wasn’t your boys; that was for certain.

This was something else entirely.

“We need weapons,” you whispered.

“We’ll be fine,” Taryn held Starla close, trying to console the girl. “They’ve never made it to the inner city before.”

“We don’t even know how to use blasters,” Starla trembled.

“Well, I do. We won’t last long without them if whoever that is out there is as bad as you say they are,” you were listening to the gunfire and the screaming.

These were all sounds you were used to, and something was telling you this was no normal siege. It was starting to sound like the front lines of Felucia.

“They won’t find us here,” Taryn’s tone was confident despite her panicked features.

You just sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting for the blasters to silence.

~~~

Hunter was panting heavily by the time they made it to the outer wall. “The pirates have drawn their fire. Let’s get up there before they come back,” he said.

Crosshair loaded a repelling cable into firepuncher and pulled the trigger, watching it latch onto the rim of the upper wall.

Quickly, the five soldiers scaled the wall like they had hundreds of times before. Hunter hauled himself up first, checking if the coast was clear. When it was, he motioned for the others to swing over the edge, grouping up into formation as they jogged in the opposite direction of the action.

Just as Crosshair had said, there were only men in the outer ring, and they all seemed keen on grabbing their weapons to join the fight.

From what they could see from the wall, the pirates managed to make it past the blockades with some kind of repurposed Separatist battering ram. It must have been left over from a previous battle.

“Over here!” Echo called out, finding a stone stairway that led down into the city below. They began quickly running down the large flight of stairs. That was until the battering ram sounded again.

“They’ve breached the inner city,” Tech said, using his infrared to see how many pirates were trying to rush the guards into the temple grounds. Luckily, most of them were being held back by the Mimbanese, and only a small handful slipped through.

“We need to hurry,” Echo urged.

~~~

The noises suddenly changed when you heard a massive pounding. It sounded like metal on metal, and you knew they were going for the massive doors protecting the inner city.

“They’re coming,” you said, slipping out of the shelter to confirm your suspicion. Taryn tried to grab you, but you were too fast. Nudging past the tapestry, you jogged over to the balcony, peeking out slightly just to see the gate had been basically disintegrated, and the guards were openly firing against a horde of what you could tell were pirates—the Alooke.

Running back to the safe place, you very carefully arranged the tapestry back to normal as you slipped back inside.

“They’re inside,” you whispered, blowing out the candle, leaving you in total darkness.

Starla started whimpering like a scared pup. You put your hand on her shoulder, trying to quiet her, but it wasn’t helping much.

You flinched when you heard women’s screams echo throughout the hall and knew they had infiltrated the temple and they were close.

It wasn’t long before they’d kick down your door. You just prayed they would move on and not notice your hiding spot.

You closed your eyes, saying a silent prayer to the Maker, hoping they’d take mercy on you.

You jumped when you heard the wood of your bedroom door smash open into the stone wall with a bone chilling bang.

Taryn covered Starla's mouth with her hand, keeping her silent. You took a deep breath, trying to still the racing adrenaline in your body so you could hear over the pounding in your ears.

You heard the man tear apart the room, throwing everything around, growling as he yanked apart the bed pallets frustrated.

“I can smell you… Omega,” he rumbled, making your stomach drop. “I know you’re in here. I know you’re close…”

He continued destroying the room, knocking over the furniture and smashing the pottery of flowers, and you cursed yourself for not thinking about the fact you were totally unmedicated and nothing was suppressing your scent. You were positive it was pungent.

“I smell alpha on you too,” he chuckled, “too bad he’s not here to save you,” he threatened.

You heard his boots getting closer to the tapestry as he rooted around in the box of body jewelry next to your hiding spot.

You looked to the two cowering girls. You knew what you had to do. You knew it was a matter of time before he discovered you. At least if you acted now, you’d have the element of surprise.

Leaning forward, you grabbed the metal candlestick and flipped it upside down before returning to the narrow passageway.

Taryn tried to plead with you, but you just shook your head, trying to convey that you had a plan… kind of… you knew Hunter was absolutely going to chew you a new one if he ever found out you were this dumb.

Nudging the tapestry aside, you saw the ugly creature prowling around the center of the room, admiring all the gold shiny jewelry he had found.

Adjusting your grip slightly on the candle holder, you crept forwards silently, leaving the safety of your hiding spot and approached him in practiced silence.

Rearing back, you went to make the swing and brought down your makeshift club hard, connecting with his wrinkly head. He let out a bark and doubled over, feeling his blood start to rush from the injury.

You raised your arm again to finish the job. He was quick enough to spin around and grab your wrist, holding the weapon. You yelped as he squeezed, forcing you to drop it.

“There you are!” he spat, “Nice of you to come out. You’ll do well. Onka will be pleased to have a new toy.” His free hand shot out to grab at your throat, and something in that moment changed, and suddenly your weeks of combat training kicked in like instinct.

With a growl, you dodged his hand and used your knee to hit him in the gut. He grunted and tried to wrangle you again, but this time you spun around and used your weight to roll him over your back onto the wooden lounging table. He let go of your wrist as he collided with the hard surface, forcing his back into a painful arch with a pop.

You backed up and arched your leg into a high kick, bringing down your heel to his sternum. You heard a crack and knew you hit your target. The man wailed in agony, gripping at his chest as it was no doubt broken.

It was loud enough. Another man entered the room curiously to find you standing over his comrade. You only had a second to react before he rushed you. Grabbing a large metal dish Starla used to hold her combs, you reared that thing back before whipping it across the pursuer's face.

He snapped to the side, spinning around, trying to recover from the strike.

His cheek was bleeding, and you were panting. Thankful for the freedom of movement this makeshift dress offered, you got back into a fighting stance, waiting for his move.

“An omega that can fight,” he sneered, raising his fists, “That’s new.”

“You have no idea,” you adjusted your grip on the plate.

He narrowed his eyes, studying you before he flinched. You decided he was taking too long to make a move and flung the plate at him like a frisbee, watching it connect with his neck. He stumbled back, shocked and struggling to breathe, when you launched yourself at him like a wild tooka.

Just like Hunter had showed you, you leaped up onto him, wrapping your bare legs around his shoulder and chest before twisting yourself down, taking him with you.

Hunter always told you that because you’re smaller, you have to bring the fight down to the ground if you want a chance at winning. You knew you had to keep this man on the ground or else he could over power you.

You rolled, throwing him into a spin on the ground. He grunted and reached out, grabbing your bare ankle, yanking you down with him. He tried crawling over you, but you kicked him in the side of the face, hearing his jaw snap viciously.

You crawled away, grabbing one of Taryn’s hair forks, holding it like a shiv.

When he tried to grab you again, you spun on him, driving the fork into his arm and twisted, hearing him scream in agony.

Just as you thought you were making some headway, the one from before got up, grabbed you by the hair, dragging you out onto the balcony and away from his friend. You screamed, feeling the burning pain as he yanked on your locks mercilessly.

“You’re one hell of a problem, aren’t you, sweetheart!” he grabbed your neck, squeezing it harshly. You scrambled and clawed at him feeling the oxygen start to leave you.

You spat at him, watching it land on his face and drip down his scaly cheek.

“Feisty,” his friend laughed, pulling the fork from his arm and letting it fall with a clatter.

The other let go of your hair to wipe his face off.

“I’m fucking her first before we give her to Onka.” He snarled, “fucking payback for the struggle.”

You bared your teeth and he just laughed spinning you around forcing you over the balcony railing at the hip. You kicked back connecting with this shin making him howl. He grabbed your hair again, smashing your face into the stone roughly.

“Damn bitch!” He started running his hand over your hip before reaching the high slit in your dress.

Just as you thought it was all over, you heard the sound of a single blaster shot and the tell tale sound of a body hitting the ground.

You couldn’t see what was happening but you nearly cried when you heard a familiar voice.

“Fucking drop her.” Crosshair’s menacing voice cut through the air like a vibroblade.

You were suddenly yanked up and whipped around, being used as a human shield. In front of you, you sighed in relief upon seeing Crosshair’s mask and firepuncher aimed right at your attacker. He slowly approached, stepping over the dead pirate.

You felt dull metal being pressed to your head, and you knew it was a blaster. “Don’t come any closer,” the pirate warned.

Crosshair stopped his advance and stood scarily still.

“Is this the alpha I could smell on you earlier, sweetheart?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “What a pretty little thing you are, so many men fighting to have you.”

Normally, you would have been frightened to be in a situation like this, but looking at Crosshair now, you knew no harm would befall you. You knew he would do what needed to be done. You had full trust in the sniper.

Your tense shoulders fell, and you became eerily relaxed feeling the calm wash over you.

“Hand her over, and I’ll let you live,” Crosshair spoke through his vocoder.

“No chance,” the pirate laughed before coughing due to his fractured sternum, “Put down your gun, and I won’t shoot her.”

Crosshair waited a moment, calculating the risk before deciding to slowly set firepuncher down on the ground, deciding your life was the top priority.

“Kick it to me,” the pirate ordered.

Crosshair begrudgingly kicked his beloved rifle into the center of the room. The pirate huffed, satisfied.

You were then violently shoved down onto your knees with a cry as the pirate pushed you over to have a go at Crosshair. You felt his steel-toe boot bite into your side as he kicked you.

The Pirate wasn’t ready; Crosshair was too fast, too trained. Before his boot had ever left your side, Crosshair lunged at him, knocking the blaster from his grip. The two men fell into a nasty brawl.

Gaining your senses back, you watched your beloved alpha fend off the pirate to the best of his ability.

The ugly fucker grabbed a knife from his belt and swung it at Cross. You watched in horror as Crosshair dodged him masterfully, but your adrenaline was on overdrive.

Without much thinking, you crawled over the debris of the room and grabbed firepuncher. You held up the rifle, tucking it into your shoulder and raising yourself to your knees, bringing one foot forward to plant confidently on the floor.

Raising the gun up into the air, you felt your heart calm and your breathing still.

In that brief moment of clarity, you aimed the weapon, putting the god-ugly pirate into the crosshairs of the scope before pulling the trigger.

You watched that blue plasma bolt pierce right through the back of the pirate’s skull as he collapsed on the ground mid-swing.

Crosshair stood there in awe as the smoke from the blast still lingered in the air. He felt like the air had been punched from his gut seeing you kneeling there holding his gun with that determined look in your eyes. He felt the blood rush south realizing you had just saved him... with his gun. He wanted to throw you down on these cushioned floors and ravash you. Shaking himself back to his senses, he took a deep calming breath in.

You took a deep breath too, setting the gun down as Crosshair leaped across the room to kneel down on the floor and embrace you.

You tightly wrung yourself around him, finally feeling the adrenaline wear off and the tears start to flow.

“Cross!” You sobbed, squeezing him.

“Mesh’la,” he took his helmet off, setting it down to the side, and shoved his face into your neck, holding your head like you were the most precious thing to ever live.

“Are you hurt?” He suddenly drew back to get a real look at you. He finally had a second to take in what you were wearing. If the situation wasn’t so dire, he’d probably have a boner right now.

Your bare legs knelt on the ground, and your nearly naked torso shone in the moonlight, and that damn red on you. It was making his blood warm seeing his little omega on display like this.

“I’m okay,” you replied, grabbing his face and bringing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. He leaned over you, supporting your back with one hand and holding the two of you up with the other, he squeezed you tightly to his chest plate.

“Y/N?”

Crosshair grabbed his gun in a flash between your bodies, placing the end on his shoulder rifle rest for stabilization. You were still dazed from the kiss when you noticed the others had come out from hiding.

Taryn and Starla squeaked with the gun being pointed at them clutching onto one another.

“It’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on the rifle, “They’re friends.”

Crosshair slowly lowered the gun and looked back at you, “We need to go.”

“Where are the others?” You asked, letting Crosshair help you stand up. He put his helmet back on with a hiss.

“They’re fighting off the pirates. Echo spotted you from the balcony. I ran up here as fast as possible, but we have to go while we still can.”

“What about them?” You asked, looking to your frightened friends.

“We don’t have time,” he ushered you out towards the balcony.

You looked over your shoulder, pointing to the discarded pirate blasters, “Use those!” You pointed to the weapons. Taryn scrambled to grab them as Crosshair wrapped a strong arm around your back, bringing you to his front.

“Hold on adi’ka,” he said, aiming another repelling cable towards the floor above. You wrapped your arms around Crosshair as he engaged the lift, bringing the two of you off the ground. Once you were up, you noticed Echo squatting on the roof, firing at the wall filled with invaders.

“Echo!” You smiled, still holding onto Crosshair.

“Hey, Tiny!” He nodded at you, continuing to squeeze off more rounds, “Glad to see you… what the hell are you wearing?”

You looked down, forgetting about the strange revealing attire.

“Later!” Crosshair growled.

He grabbed a zip cable grip, placing it onto the zipline from the top of the temple over to the wall across the way.

“Don’t let go!” He said, grabbing you again.

“What?” You asked before squealing as he whisked you off your feet, letting the grip slide across the cable carrying you over the war zone towards the wall deck. He dropped the grip, landing the two of you safely on the wall. Your bare feet hit the stone with a stumble as you shook with renewed adrenaline.

“I got her,” Crosshair radioed in as Echo zip-lined across the gardens to the wall, “meet us at the rendezvous point.”

You felt Echo put a gloved hand on your shoulder before falling into formation, leading the way. Crosshair held your hand as he dragged you through the chaos. Fire and plasma blasts flew everywhere. The entire city was under siege. You watched in horror as the Mimbanese fought with everything they had.

They were fierce warriors; you could give them that credit despite their strange customs.

Your feet were definitely getting cut up from running over the debris, but you couldn’t feel much over the adrenaline. Before long, you were nearing the outer wall as Crosshair and Echo ducked behind a vendor cart, pressing you between them.

“Now what?” You asked, holding onto Echo’s flesh arm.

“We wait for Hunter,” Crosshair said, throwing one of his reflector pads on the wall to keep an eye on the action behind them.

A particularly loud explosion had you clenching onto Echo.

“I don’t know how you guys do this every day!” You flinched as more debris rained over the vendor cart.

“Part of the job, Cyra’ika,” Crosshair checked the locator on his vembrance, “They’re close.” He got up, holding his rifle ready to fire but lowered it seeing Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker arriving on stolen speeders.

When they pulled up, Crosshair led you to them. You went to throw yourself at Hunter, but Crosshair shoved you onto the back of his speeder instead, “Reunions later! Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

You snuggled up to Hunter’s back, clinging onto his armor as Crosshair slid in behind you. The Sargent gave your leg a little pad letting you know he was happy to see you.

Echo jumped onto Tech’s bike while Wrecker’s had two massive engine parts strapped to the back. Presumably stolen you deduced.

In a flash, Hunter whipped the speeder around, taking off, leaving the war zone behind.

You sped through the smoke as you neared the city gates. Crosshair kept a firm hand on your head, shoving your head down when a stray bullet whizzed by.

You gasped, seeing it explode into a basket of fruits to your left.

“Careful,” he growled.

You reached an arm back, putting it on his thigh plate, giving it a squeeze as a thank you.

Once you passed through the gates, you finally could release a big exhale. You watched the city of Alise disappearing into the background as Tech navigated you all back to the Marauder.

You knew it would be a long journey, but you finally felt free. You leaned back into Crosshair, letting your head lull against his shoulder.

He wrapped a hand around your waist, keeping you close. You were finally back with your pack, back with your alphas. Everything was right again…

You felt the way Crosshairs gloved fingers slipped onto the slit in the pathetic excuse for a dress you were wearing.

You could tell he disapproved as his fingers slid inwards realizing you had no panties on. But the other part of your grumpy alpha was turned on beyond belief.

Having you in his grasp again was making his heart race and his codpiece incredibly tight. He couldn’t help himself but to drag his hands away from you core and explore higher, he ran his hands over your exposed sides and back then up your chest to where Taryn had tied a flimsy piece over your breasts. Then he thumbed the piece that wrapped around your neck holding everything together.

You squirmed feeling yourself get wet the more Crosshair touched you. It didn’t help having the humming speeder between your legs as he returned back to massaging your exposed thighs.

Hunter felt you squirming around and tilted his helmet to the side to make sure you were okay. What he didn’t expect to see was you tucking your head into Crosshair’s neck under his helmet as he groped you shamelessly.

He shook his head going back to focusing on getting everyone back to the ship. He’d deal with Crosshair’s horny ass later.

~~~

What felt like an eternity later, the Marauder was finally in sight. When Hunter slowed down the bike to investigate the damage, it was apparent that a large group of raiders had been there.

There were footprints all around the ship, including inside. From what you could see, nothing seemed to be taken except for a few items of clothes strewn about outside, no doubt used to confirm your identity and scent.

“Stay here,” Hunter instructed as he got off the bike with the others to ensure the ship was indeed empty.

You stayed on the bike with Crosshair as he got up to take his helmet off and kiss you properly. You sighed into the kiss, feeling his firm grasp on your chin. His strong hands ran down your sides squeezing your exposed hips he stood between your spread thighs. You whimpered feeling a jolt electrify your entire being.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “For finding me…”

“You put up a hell of a fight, Adi’ka,” he smiled, kissing you again, this time with more force, making you whine with need as he ground his hips into your throbbing core.

“Alright, quit making out,” Echo interjected, walking back towards the speeders.

You pulled away, blushing, letting Crosshair scowl at the ARC trooper for inturpting. You had heard about the post battle need to blow off steam. Some troopers went to 79’s to drink, some found hookers, and others well.. you weren’t entire sure. But you knew it was real, the adrenaline was making you want to jump Crosshair’s bones.

“What happened?” Echo asked, putting his hand on his hip. The others quickly returned, wanting to know as well. “Where are your shoes?” The arc trooper raised a brow.

“They took them,” you replied, looking down at your wrecked and bloody feet.

“Okay, start from the beginning,” Hunter said, kneeling down in front of you to look at your injuries, pulling a shard from the ball of your foot gently giving your ankle a little rub.

“That crazy man took me. His name was T-Tarook or Tanrock or something like that.” You waved you hand dismissively, “Then we were riding for hours on that stupid horse before we got to the city. Then they brought me to an old lady who took my clothes and forced me into a bathspring.

They dressed me, painted my face, then let me go into that garden prison. I met two human girls who had been victims of the war who ended up there with their families.

Nothing else really happened. They fed me and brought me into their community. There were so many I couldn’t believe it. Then they converted these old Jedi Temples into living spaces and that’s when Crosshair found me.

Well, actually the pirates found us first and I tried my best to fight them off, but in the end, Crosshair saved me. Echo and him got me out and now we're here… I still don’t know where my shoes are though,” you sighed, feeling exhausted; it had been a wild 48 hours.

“An old lady took your clothes?” Echo repeated amused.

You shook your head. “It was so strange.” You were trying to understand the whole ordeal.

“Does that explain that?” He gestured to your barely there attire. You nodded again crossing your arms over your hardened nipples.

“Looks like something the Hutts would like,” Hunter commented, crossing his arms.

“I’ve seen more clothes on a stripper at 79’s,” Crosshair joked. You slapped him.

“I didn’t exactly have a choice if you didn’t notice,” you scowled at him. “Now, will one of you carry me inside so I can change?”

“Sorry to break it to you, Mesh’la, but… they took most of your clothes,” Hunter nodded in the direction of the ship.

“Fucking perverts.” You growled, “They better not have taken my favorite civvies!” You slid off the speeder and into the mud feeling it squelch under your toes no longer caring about getting dirty. You were already covered in plasma powder and maker knows what.

"Hey, I'm just glad you're okay, Pip!" Wrecked exclaimed, pulling you into a massive bear hug and rubbing his chin on the crown of your head scenting you. You relaxed into his embrace, allowing him to set you down gently.

Tech then gave you a quick embrace, followed by Hunter, who tilted your chin up to get a look

at the blooming bruises around your neck. He gave a disapproving huff, but you just smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his chest. He let you go and watched as you made your way back to the ship, your long legs shuffling through the clay, fussing with the fabrics flowing from your waist.

They all watched you trot to the ship eagerly, a little mesmerized by the outfit. Hunter then snapped out of it and pointed to the stolen engine parts, "Alright, let's get these parts installed and get the hell out of dodge," Hunter said snapping the others out of their stares.

Wrecker got to work quickly, knowing there was limited time before the locals or the pirates showed up to poke around and Tech grabbed his welding kit.

~~~

"Are we good to go?" Echo asked Tech, who began the launch sequence. The ship groaned slightly as it pulled away from the surface of Mimban. You sat in your jump seat, feet cleaned and bandaged, wrapped in a blanket, and preparing for the cold of space.

"We’re clear," Tech said, angling the nose of the ship towards the blackness of space.

"Thank the maker!" you cheered, thrilled to get the hell off this rock. “Fuck Mimban!”

You heard Wrecker laugh.

"Launching to hyperspace," Tech announced, pushing the throttle forward to prime the hyperdrive. Within seconds, you were all zooming through space with bright blue and white lights.

You could cry, honest to the maker. The relief of never having to go back to Mimban ever again was like a weight off your chest.

Hunter chuckled at your enthusiasm, watching you happy dance from your seat.

"We’re at cruising speed," Echo said, unbuckling and turning to face you directly.

You perked up. "What is it, Echo?"

He crossed his arms and smirked.

"What?" You started to feel anxious under his playful stare.

"Oh, nothing…" His smirk only grew. "I just didn’t know you had such…voracious tastes."

Your eyes widened like saucers, reminiscent of the one you chucked at that pirate earlier.

"Oh, don’t play shy now," he pointed an accusatory finger at you. "I had to listen to how not shy you were for the past week!"

You wanted to vanish into the floor. You felt your entire body flush, and you knew they could see it because half of it was on damn display.

"You can’t blame me!" You crossed your arms, trying to defend yourself.

"Actually, I think I can," he laughed. "I thought omegas only picked one…"

"You said you’ve shared before!" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"She wasn’t in heat," Echo smiled.

"Is this what you two talk about when we’re on missions?" Hunter leaned against the galley doorway crossing his arms.

"Well, excuse me, you all smell remarkably similar. It’s a little difficult when you’re all different versions of the same person!"

Echo chuckled. "We all know that’s not how that works, sweetheart."

You couldn’t help but leave your mouth agape. "Can’t you just be happy I’m not dead? Must you tease me before we even get back to Coruscant?”

"I just didn’t know this about you," he stood up, shrugging and keeping his playful tone. "I never would have guessed our Tiny…Little sweet Tiny, would roll like this." He laughed.

You threw the blanket you had at him, making him laugh and bat it away.

"Alright, enough, quit playing with her," Hunter gathered you up, keeping you from playfully smacking Echo.

"She likes it," Echo flicked you on the forehead, making you yip as he sat back down in his copilot seat. "I want all of them," he mimicked your whiny voice with a snicker.

"Ahh!" You screamed, covering your face. "Shut up, Echo!"

"Help me, Alpha!" He smiled and laughed, watching you flail around in Hunter's arms, trying to kick him.

"Are you not wearing panties?" Echo gasped pointing a finger at you. The others whipped their heads around.

"Echo!" You screamed.

"Alright, someone has to be the responsible one and get you cleaned up," Hunter spun you around and walked you to the fresher, “Shower. Then we should probably talk before we get to Coruscant," Hunter said, running a gentle hand over your head affectionately.

"Can I borrow some civvies?" You asked, gesturing down to your dress.

Hunter scratched the back of his head. "They took ours too… sorry, pip." He felt bad. You sighed and nodded, letting him close the door, giving you some privacy.

You sighed. You’d be lying if you weren’t a little anxious about having the talk. The second you hit lucidity again after being in heat, you knew it was coming, but the way Crosshair kissed you at least gave you a little hope they weren’t going to just kick you to the side and pretend like it didn’t happen.

At least not the sniper; the others? You weren’t as confident.

Stepping into the fresher, you took a deep breath, letting the hot water wash away the past 48 hours.

It was going to be an uncomfortable journey back home.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

So I usually HATE when someone puts images of clothes they had visualized for a fic, but because I struggled so much describing the image, I'm attaching my inpso images here (ahh I'm sorry I'm a hypocrite) and also Pip's iconic tray toss (just like daddy Crosshair)

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

#The bad batch #tbb #star wars #ABO #alpha #beta #omega #heat #hunter #crosshair #tech #wrecker #echo #clone #clonewars #fanfic

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drafthorsemath · 11 months

Text

Crosshair’s Redemption

I posted this here in response to an earlier post, but also thought this should just live on its own on my blog, so apologies if you’ve seen it twice. Essentially, here are some thoughts about whether Crosshair should be held accountable for his actions with the Empire. Spoilers for The Bad Batch Season 2.

I’ll start by saying that Crosshair is already holding himself accountable, even if he’s not calling it that. When people say they want redemption for Crosshair, often, from what I’ve seen, they either implicitly or explicitly want him specifically to suffer in some way and many don’t seem to realize that he is already suffering. They seem to think he deserves that suffering and then some. In some cases, they flat out want him dead and think that is the only way for him to “pay” and be redeemed. I won’t even pretend I’m not projecting when I say that as a cult survivor, that hurts me to my core because I relate to him so much and I suppose I’m at the point in all this when I can talk more about what it’s like to be in a cult and why people do what they do. (If you want to hear what it’s like growing up in a doomsday cult, I’ve been interviewed for two podcasts and can direct you there and my DMs are open.)

No, I didn’t murder anyone, so you might think Crosshair has done worse than I have. I’m not here to argue about that, but in some ways I think helping to destroy someone’s life or sense of self without killing them can be just as bad, no? I definitely hurt people, even if I didn’t kill them. I hurt them deeply, just as I was hurt, but is that an excuse? No. But also, I was under the influence of many layers of authority in my cult. Did they put a gun to my head and “make” me do hurtful things? No, but they also constructed the situation so that it very much felt like life or death. I did what I had to do to survive. Does that mean I’m not accountable? Also no. Amazingly, it’s complicated. I’ve certainly paid for my time in the cult even though I was born into it. No one else showed up and passed down a punishment, but figuring out how to grieve, make right, help others, and build a life while thoroughly traumatized was pretty damn punishing.

How is my survival in a cult any different than Crosshair trying to survive? Different than Crosshair telling Hunter there is a place for all of them in the Empire? Any different than Crosshair saying he made his choice and the clones that matter will be just fine? Crosshair may try to play it cool and seem unaffected, but this man is doing what he feels he needs to do in order to survive in circumstances that are not of his choosing.

I think by The Outpost it becomes very clear that Crosshair is changing, even though we see glimpses earlier. He was literally pushed to the point where he thought his life would end for killing Nolan. You can argue that he didn’t know for sure if his life would be over, but when he killed that asshole, he could have been shot where he was and he knew it. He knew by that point that the Empire did not care about him at all and he still pulled the trigger.

Crosshair started holding himself accountable the moment he started making different decisions. The moment he went from playing along to survive to actively going against the Empire was when he started holding himself accountable.

We should also talk about the chip that was (is?) in his head. He was very much being controlled at least at the beginning of season 1. We know that the clones acted the way they did during Order 66 because of the chips. Should he still be held responsible for what he did under the influence of the chip? Then what about Cody and Bly and Wolffe and every other clone who killed or tried to kill the Jedi? Like where do we draw the line? Is it even our job to draw the line? Is it the job of the Rebellion to draw the line? I don’t think it is. I think it’s fine for the Rebellion to say, “if you don’t see what you did as a problem, then we don’t want to work with you,” but I don’t think they should get a firing squad or pass down a punishment. In Rebels, did the Rebellion not want to work with Rex, Gregor, or Wolffe? Kanan had feelings about it, sure, but ultimately no one made them atone for being clones under the influence of a chip.

It’s always interesting to me that people talk about Crosshair atoning, but not Vader or Sidious or Kylo Ren or any number of lower level cult leaders like Rampart. Maybe it’s because we already know what will happen to Vader, Kylo, and Sidious. Maybe it’s because they die and we figure that has to cover all their transgressions, but we don’t know how Crosshair’s story will end and people want to make sure there’s some “justice.”

Throughout season 2, although there’s not a ton of Crosshair shown, we see he’s really miserable. He’s not sleeping, he’s not eating, he was left on the platform for 32 rotations. He looks like hell and he feels like hell. He is so expressive and it’s clear he’s miserable by the look on his face. Isn’t he already paying for his bounded choice? Being in a cult is already awful, it’s really traumatizing, but people seem to love to pile on more guilt and then blame cult members like if they just weren’t so stupid none of this would have happened. Ultimately, the only people in cults who are irredeemable are the upper cult leaders. Sidious does not care about anyone but himself. He can’t be redeemed. Everyone else though? There’s hope for them. Don’t we want a better world where people can learn from their mistakes and help others? Where growing and bettering oneself is an ongoing process that lasts a life time? How many awful things need to happen to Crosshair before people will say “okay you ticked enough boxes, I forgive you now”? He is a complicated man, but he has empathy and he loves and cares for his family. Again this doesn’t mean he gets off without paying for what he’s done, but also, he’s already paying for his choices by living in a version of hell. Being in a cult is terrible and soul-crushing for everyone but the top cult leader.

I also would be remiss if I didn’t mention how Crosshair spent the end of season 2 strapped to a table, able to fight drugs in his system to get far enough to warn his siblings that the Empire is after Omega. While the full message didn’t get out, he did his utmost to warn them. He didn’t try to run for himself. He tried to save his family. If that isn’t Crosshair trying to do better and holding himself accountable then I don’t know what is.

Ultimately, I think when people want someone to hold Crosshair accountable, they are missing a part of his humanity and they assume he must want all that has happened. It’s like they think someone must dish out justice because surely he doesn’t realize how badly he screwed up, but Crosshair knows he messed up and now he has to reckon with it. Assigning the Rebellion or some person or group the job of holding him accountable only furthers the us versus them that cults instill into their members. It will only push him away further. Do you want to know what happened between me and the people who felt I needed to be held accountable for my time in a cult (that I was born into, just like the clones)? I never spoke to them again and I had one less person offering support as I tried to build some semblance of a life. The few threads of connection that I had were ultimately severed because they felt I hadn’t gone through enough.

Let Crosshair go on this journey. Let him try to do what is right, because he’s well on his way. Let him grieve for all that has happened and all he’s done. Because I promise, he’s grieving. He’s lonely and guilting himself to his core. It’s written all over his face.

#tbb crosshair #the bad batch #crosshair #tbb #tbb meta #the empire is a cult #when i don't know whether to post something on its own or reply with it so i do both i guess #the bad batch crosshair #cw cult mention #cw cult #cw cult recovery

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din-miller · 6 months

Note

Hey, I humbly ask for the bad batch x femreader (separately) who has muscles? Like she's super insecure about them because she feels like she can't wear anything nice because she looks to bulky?

Fluff or smut it's up to you!

❤️

Ooohhh that’s a cool ask. I’ve never really had toned muscles so this was a challenge to do in a sense that I don’t have those insecurities about my body. Hopefully for those badasses who do, I didn’t completely fumble this ask.

Insecurities Get Us All, Just Thought You Should Know

Pairing: The Bad Batch x Female Reader

Words: all together is 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, implications to sexy times, Crosshair’s is spicy, insecurity, female reader, talks about how women should be soft and feminine for male pleasure, ugh, our boys will step on those men

A/N: unfortunately after spending two days thinking about how to do Echo’s part, I gave up. He will be missed. Crosshairs part is maybe (?) a little rough around the edges but I really struggle with his character. Tech loses the ability to speak with big words because you know, women with muscles leave us speechless. Dividers by @saradika

WRECKER

You stare at the dress in your hand – if you can even call it such – and wonder if you could get away with murder; more specifically the murder of one trandoshan.

While you tend to hate the missions she sends you and the Batch on, this one definitely is on top of the hatred list. You turn the dress around, eyes taking in all the straps that make up a complicated crisscross pattern, a poor excuse for a back. The dress is floor length, more elegant than daring, looser than fitting but it’s sleeveless.

It’s not ugly, the deep shade of purple is stunning to be honest. It’s just that, well it highlights the part of yourself that you keep hidden under baggy clothes. Your arms have always been an issue for you. Out of all the boys only Hunter and Wrecker’s arms are bigger than yours. The former just barely.

You were admittedly scared at first when the boys saw your bare arms. You had expected them to judge you, make fun of you, but instead they asked about your workout routine. It mostly involves saving their asses and a hundred pushups before bed.

They let you feel free to unapologetically be yourself, muscles and all. But this isn’t a hot afternoon or a Sunday swim. This is a stupid mission to a sneezy cantina.

A knock at the ‘fresher door startled you. Cid had allowed you to use her private fresher to change. The only people who’d be knocking is her, Omega, or the boys.

“One second.” You call out realising that you’re still standing naked in the room save for your undergarments.

You get to work changing, slipping the dress over your head before realising that was a mistake and you’re now stuck tangled up in the fabric. You try wiggling your body, shifting your arms as much as you can but nothing proved helpful. You’re one hundred percent stuck.

You must have made a noise because the knocking is back followed by a concerned voice, “Everything okay in there?”

Wrecker.

Sweat, loving, Wrecker.

Wrecker who playfully challenges you to arm wrestling matches despite knowing he’ll win every time. Never once making a stupid comment like if you were a man you’d be able to beat him. Wrecker, who has never made any negative or cruel comments about your appearance.

Wrecker, the man you’re oh so helplessly in love with.

The man who has never seen you in a dress, who has never once seen anything bare except your arms. That’s about to change now ‘cause there is no way you’re going to be able to get unstuck without ripping the dress. So, you swallow your pride; “I think I need help-,”

“Help? Are you hurt? Wait there, I’ll go get Tech-,”

“No, I’m not hurt. Well maybe my pride is a little,” You grunt, trying to free yourself because honestly this is not how you imagined Wrecker helping you with your clothing. No, he’d be taking them off, not putting them on, “I’m stuck.”

“Oh,” Wrecker clears his throat, sounding lost, “Do you want me to come in?”

“You can, but I’m sorta…” You frown, trying to figure out the best word, “Indecent.”

Wrecker cleared his throat again, this time a little louder, “Oh, you’re naked. I can go get Cid.”

“No! You send her in here and she’ll be coming back out in a body bag,” You warn him, completely truthful, “And I’m not naked, I have underwear on. Look it’s okay, I can get one of the other boys-,”

“Yeah, that’s not happenin’.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m going to unlock the door. Is anyone else out there?” You ask, unlocking the door for him, a little awkwardly as you can’t move your arms without your entire upper body going with. You had to bend at the waist and blindly find the doorknob.

You hear shuffling from the other side, footsteps coming closer until they stop just shy of the door. You can see the silhouette of Wrecker’s boots, “No, just me. ‘sides I wouldn’t let anyone see ya half dressed. Bad enough some besom is going to eyein’ you all night like you’re some slab of meat.”

Your stomach turns unpleasantly at the thought of being subjected to lust gazes all night long, so you push away all thoughts about the mission and the foal men before they can consume you. One fear at a time.

You relax your arms, making sure you don’t flex. Good practice for tonight you think bitterly and move away from the door to let him in. He was quick, door closing hot on his heels. You avoid his gaze, not wanting to see the look of disgust as he takes in your muscular body. Thankfully nothing private is showing, leaving you with some modesty.

Your hands are stuck in the air, trapped by fabric and straps, the gown part of the dress is bunched up around your waist, leaving just enough fabric to cover your private part.

You keep your eyes on the wall in front of you as you try to ease the awkward tension in the air, “Didn’t Hunter ban you from using such foal words?”

“Only in front of Omega.” He replies, stepping in close and his fingers trail down your arm, from your elbow to your shoulder where the straps all twist together.

The first brush of his fingertips against your shoulder blade has your knees going weak. His breath is hot against your neck as he asks, “Got a reference to how this is ‘posed to go?”

“Oh, yeah I think the package had one actually,” You half-blindly search for the package before handing it to him, “Here.”

Wrecker studies the picture for a few seconds before giving a small ‘aha’, “I think I understand.”

His hands are back on you, warm and welcoming as he works in silence, occasionally grunting when a finger gets tangled up in the straps. In those moments you snort and he gently pinches your side in response.

Either the dress is more complicated than you originally thought or Wrecker is going at a snails pace – almost like he’s milking the closeness and skin on skin contact for all its worth. You hope it’s the latter and you’re not hopelessly reading into the way his fingers are caressing your skin even though the task at hand doesn’t call for such loving touches.

“There, all done.”

“Thank you.” You give an experimental wiggle of your shoulders to make sure the straps stay in place for tonight before rewarding Wrecker with a kiss on the cheek before thinking better of it.

Realising what you had just done, you hastily turn away, missing the dorky awestruck expression on his face, and in your turn you catch your reflection and oh.

Your arms, well, they’re not hard to miss. Your eyes are drawn to them, impossible not to see. You don’t necessarily hate your muscles, they’re what have kept you alive. You don’t survive a war ridden galaxy by having noodle arms. It’s just seeing them on display like this, for people to see and judge you, mock you, it’s too much.

If it wasn’t for your arms you’d actually consider yourself attractive in this entire – or at least attractive in the eyes of men.

The rest of the dress is flowy, with a little support for your breast, but other than your arms it highlights no other muscular features your body has. Still you try to make yourself appear smaller, more feminine, but it’s not working and your stomach is starting to turn again unforgivingly.

In the mirror you catch Wrecker taking small steps towards you, “Any chance you’ll let me know what’s going on in your head, mesh’la?”

You give a deep sigh, “Cid picked the wrong person for the job. Slap some lipstick on Crosshair and he’d get more attention than I would. How am I supposed to seduce anyone when I look like a hairless lasat? The moment I step foot in the cantina all eyes will be on me but none of them will see me, you know?”

The corner of Wrecker’s lips tilt down, sadness brief in his eyes before he shakes his head and pulls you back into his embrace, taking you by surprise but you melt against his chest all the same.

“You know what I see?” His arms come to wrap around you, hands locking together over your stomach, “I see strength. Arms that are strong to carry your kin to safety. I see warmth and comfort; a safe place to rest, to be held. I see a strong beautiful woman. I see you.”

You gasp, eyes wide and locking onto Wrecker’s for a split second before turning in his arms and pulling his head down to catch his plush lips in your own. Wrecker lets out a startled noise before moaning softly against your lips, arms wrapping around you to pull you in closer to his body.

His mouth separate from yours for a brief second and mirth colours his next few words, “If you need help taking off your dress-,”

“Oh, I will.”

HUNTER

You flop yourself in bed, body aching in every sense possible. You hadn’t even done much. A simple supply run, nothing too demanding of your body but lo and behold your leg decided to cramp up and you did the entire walk back to the ship trying your best to mask the limp you took with every step. If Omega had seen you struggling she’d immediately call Hunter and Hunter would get Tech, who would tell Wrecker to carry you back to the ship, where Crosshair would be waiting seemingly indifferent about your pain but he’d hover over you nonetheless.

It would be an absolute shit show.

So you hid the pain until you got back to your private bunk, or the small storage room that has been rearranged to house you, you should say. Your plan for the night is to sulk away and hope the cramp eases up through the night.

The worst part is that in your hurry to get back to the ship and lay down, you forgot to stop and restock the ship’s supply of heat packs. Something that would most certainly come in handy right about now.

A knock comes from the door and you groan. The last thing you want right now is company. Knowing that shooing whoever it is away would only result in the entirety of the Batch piling into your room to make sure you're okay, you have no choice but yell for them to come in.

Hunter – of course it’s Hunter – peeks his head through the door before stepping all the way in, “Hey, can I come in?”

“It’s your ship.” You point out, straightening yourself to sit up properly on your bed.

“We both know it’s Tech,” He laughs, stepping into your room, face turning serious for a moment, “Omega said you were walking funny earlier. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from me. You also should know that I don’t like it when you try too. We’re an allit, which means we take care of each other.”

“Even if that person in dumb and forgot to get supplies that could actually help them manage the pain?” You ask, self blaming as you start massaging your leg. No point in hiding the cramps now.

“Especially then,” Hunter states before dropping down beside you. He shifts himself until his back is against the wall, sitting himself upright before laying your legs on his lap, “Crosshair gets really bad cramps. I learned a long time ago how to rub the knots out. Allow me?”

Hyper aware he can feel your muscles under his fingertips you hold your breath waiting for a comment that never comes. His fingers tuck themselves under the hem of your sweats, rolling them up the slightest as he asks, “May I? It’ll help if I roll your pant leg up so I can see the knots clearer.”

You swallow around the lump forming in the back of your throat. May he? Could you push away your fear of judgement to receive help? Your legs are the most muscular part of your body for you were raised in a small village, no public transport, everything was in appropriate walking distance from your house. And now running with the Batch you’re on your feet more than ever. Always trying to stay one foot ahead of imperials. It’s no wonder why your leg is throbbing.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter's hands leave your leg, “I obviously overstepped.”

“It’s fine,” You say meekly, willing your body to relax in his embrace. He gives you a look and you sigh, “Truthfully, my legs are seen as unattractive in some beauty cultures and I don’t feel like hearing snide comments right now.”

“Unattractive?” He repeats, brows drawn together as he takes a second to sort his thoughts. His lips eventually purse together briefly before nodding slightly, “You are incredibly well built, it’s something I find admirable about you. You’re fast, saved our asses a few times in battle because of these muscles in your legs, and that’s not to be taken lightly. I don’t know what ‘beauty standards’ you were raised with but I find your body to be very attractive, mesh’la.”

You study him for a minute, “You’re being honest.” It’s not a question, more of an observation and you are a bit taken back, “It truly doesn’t bother you that I’m built like a lasat?”

“A lasat? I wasn’t aware you only have four toes.” The amusement in his tone has you rolling your eyes. His hands return to your leg and he gives a reassuring squeeze, “If you allow me to continue, once I’ve got all the knots out, I’d love to take you out for dinner and maybe afterwards I could show you just how attractive you truly are.”

You grin, laying your head down in the crook of his neck as you watch his hand slide your pants up, “I’d love nothing more.”

TECH

“You should not have done that,” Tech scowls at you, arranging the necessary medical tools, “It was reckless and could have been avoidable.”

You’d wave his scowling off if the action didn’t cause your body to scream in protest. He’s right, you could have totally avoided showing off your impressive speaker skills – or at least not fail at jumping that ramp.

It could have been worse. The scanner picked up no broken bones, just a deep laceration on your stomach and some small ones paired with bruises that’ll bloom into some nasty colours. You had shredded your pants in the crash too, the fabric now hanging loosely in some places.

Tech sets his jaw and orders you to lift up your shirt, “I need to flush your wounds before applying any bacta.”

Panic floods your body, “No.”

Tech brows rose ever so slightly, just visible above his goggles, “No? What do you mean by no?”

“No, I will not lift my shirt up.” You will not allow him to see your less than feminine body. Will not face the hard truth that the man you’re crushing on is repulsed by your body. You would not survive it.

Tech, oblivious to your inward panic plainly states, “You do realise that in order for me to stop the bleeding and clean the cut so it doesn’t get infected, I need access to the wound?”

Honestly, bleeding out is better than Tech seeing your stomach. You don’t necessarily have abs, not like Hunter. You’re built more like Wrecker; big bodied. Far from soft and delicate. Never feminine like the girls in the holo movies.

Tech gently lays his hand on your arm, tilting your head up with his other, eyes holding yours hard like his next words are the most important he’ll ever say, “If you’re afraid I may try to take advantage of you in your undress state, I can call one of the boys-,”

“No!” You yell, desperately needing him to know that’s not true, not even close, “That didn’t even cross my mind. I trust you, Tech.”

His body relaxes at your words, “Then I see no reason for me not to clean the wound.”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth and admit defeat. You pull your shirt up enough for the wound to be visible but not high enough for Tech to see your chest band. Your body is tense, awaiting an insult that normally comes by now. But instead Tech makes a noise at the back of his throat, an audible swallowing sound followed with a quiet ‘oh’.

You don’t dare to look at his face.

“I’m sorry.”

Tech doesn’t try to gain eye contact this time. He gently wipes away the dry blood flaked on your skin, “For pulling the stunt or getting hurt?”

“For worrying you,” You softly say, tone apologetic, “And for you having to stare at my stomach. I’m sure you could be spending your time fixing the ship or watching holo videos of twi’lek.”

Tech blushes at the last part, “I don’t indulge in such videos. And while I do find twi’leks’ pleasing to the eye, my ‘taste’ is, well,” His eyes linger in your bare skin, darkening a little when you flex your stomach, “You. Not just your body, but your mind, your personality. You’re beautiful, strong, caring. Any man would be lucky to have you as a partner.”

“Any man?” You ask, lips turning up, finally meeting his eyes. You lean in close to his body, taking the medical equipment from his hands and set them aside, “Does that include you?”

Tech adjusts his goggles, lips holding a shy smile, “Most definitely.”

There’s a dull ache in your stomach when you lean up to kiss him but you don’t care. The softness of his lips and the way he draws in a sharp inhale makes it worth it.

CROSSHAIR

“You have to be kriffing kidding me!” You huff, kicking the side of the dryer, “Echo said he fixed this blasted machine.”

Behind you came a snort, “He did. That’s him fixing it.”

You raise a brow at Crosshair, “Not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying too,” He quips, toothpick switching from one side of his mouth to the other, “You could borrow one of our shirts. Wrecker’s would be too big for you and Tech is very picky about his clothing.”

“And Echo’s are specially designed to regulate his body temperature. I’d sweat to death in the first hour.” You sigh, that leaves you with two options: Hunter’s or–

“Take one of mine for the day,” Crosshair says, deciding for you as one of his shirts hits you straight in the face, “Oops, I was aiming for your chest.”

“Sharpshooter my ass.” You grumble under your breath and wait for Crosshair to turn away. The clone raises a brow, smirk on his lips as he cocks his head, gesturing for you to start changing. You give him the middle finger as he finally turns away from you, mumbling something under his breath about missing a good show.

Bastard.

You take off the shirt you’re currently wearing, nose scrunching up at the stench soaked into the fabric. You easily manage to slip your head through the neck hole but as you insert your arm into the sleeve you realise it’s much tighter than your baggier clothing, leaving you with a challenge. You eventually get both arms through but when you pull your shoulders forward a loud rip sounds through the small corner of the ship.

Crosshair’s ears twitch and his head turns a fraction to the side, not fully able to see you, “Did you just rip my shirt, cyar’ika?”

That’s a question you’re afraid to find the answer to. Nonetheless you slowly lift your arm up and wince at the slight breeze you feel on your skin. You bite down on your lip, eyes shifting to the hanger door and you wonder if you could escape without Crosshair catching you.

“Don’t even attempt it,” Crosshair huffs, “I’m going to turn around now.”

You stand frozen, holding your breath waiting for him to snap at you or worse, make a snide comment about how a ladies arms should never be bigger than a mans.

Crosshair's face holds no telltale sign of what he’s thinking as he take in the ripped fabric and the places where the hems are starting to come apart at the seams as your muscles threaten to rip the fabric even more.

His eyes go dark and he starts walking towards you, following as you take steps back until your back presses against the wall behind you. You swallow audibly, unsure of how this is going to turn out, “Crosshair? You have every right to be mad-,”

His left hand slams against the wall beside your head, palm flat on the wood whilst the other hand comes to your arm and squeezes the muscles over your shirt.

“If you wanted me to look at your arms you could have just told me and saved a good shirt from being ripped,” He chided, hand slowly trailing down your arm, “I see fear in your eyes, none of that, cyar’ika. I’m not like those osi’kovid who feel threatened by the strength of a woman.”

His legs nudge yours apart, leg slipping into the gap he created and presses his thigh against your core. His fingers slip under the bottom of your shirt – his shirt – to pull it over your head but the fabric doesn’t bunch, seemingly glued to your muscles. With an annoyed grunt Crosshair tears the shirt down the middle, no longer caring about seeing if it’s salvageable.

“A woman like you should be worshipped,” He whispers into your ear, teeth grazing against the flesh, pulling a whimper from you. He pulls back, a cocky smirk on his face before he’s dropping to his knees, “Allow me to taste you, to feel your strong thighs squeezing around my head as I bring you pleasure a true man could only hope to achieve.”

Your head is spinning; everything is happening so fast, your pussy begins gathering arousal between your folds as Crosshair breaths promises against your clothed sex. His words are unlike him, different from anything you’ve heard before. No snappish tone, only plain lust.

Of course, Crosshair is Crosshair, and the next second his eyes dance with mirth as his fingers slip under the band of your pants, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fucking that shock look off your face soon enough. Bend you over all surfaces until you're drunk on my cock, begging for more.”

#the bad batch #wrecker x reader #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #tech x reader #female reader #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb tech #justice joy writes #tw: implications to sexy times #warning 18+ content

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talesfrommedinastation · 3 months

Text

Redneck Doug watches 'The Bad Batch: A Different Approach'

Believe it or not, this episode started the first real argument between Doug and I!

Hope y'all enjoy it.

CW: Language and Doug is surprisingly critical of fat folks, despite the fact that he's from one of the least healthy states in the USA, has a massive beer gut, and can put away a whole rack of ribs and multiple barbeque fixin's in one sitting. I've seen it in person, folks. We were snipping at each other over fatphobia, glass houses, and the merits of The Treasure State after this.

I might have sacrificed my invitation to his St Patrick's Day party as a result. Oh well.

---------------------------------------------------------

Episode 4: “Adventures in Space Montana”

(image from @ladyzirkonia)

And we’re starting off with Little Orphan Blondie behind the wheel of a stolen vehicle because the girl is every inch her hillbilly brothers family.

Why is the plane on fire? Does this end like Alive? I thought ships couldn’t burn in space, I mean, I studied engineering, worked in oil, girl I remember Event Horizon.

Whelp, they crashed in a cold-ass field with some pointy mountains behind them. Clearly Montana. Maybe there’s a national park nearby and they can go hiking.

Aw, no, Mutant Jimmers is stuck behind Daddy Warcrimes’s seat! Let the ol girl out before she pees all over the spare tire!

Did they bring their guns? Hope they did. This is Montana, the Texas of the north, except you can’t find the bodies anywhere. If I was gonna go and murder someone, I’d pick Montana after Alaska.

(Pictured: Omega and Crosshair are somewhere in this picture)

A sketchy cold-ass town where everyone’s gambling, there’s too much military trash wandering around and you see your breath even inside the bar? Yup, definitely Montana.

(“Montana is not like that! I’ve been there multiple times! I almost went to grad school at UM and the kayaking, skiing, hiking, and breweries are amazing!” - Me, defending a state I have never lived in

“Yeah, but have you been to Butte? Thought I was gonna go get eaten by the locals there.” - Doug

::proceed to bicker and fight via texts about the many merits and demerits of the Big Sky State::)

Aw yeah, Daddy Warcrimes and Little Orphan Blondie got new clothes. Smart man, covering his face, Daddy Warcrimes. He totally looks like me when I gotta rake the lawn in November. I like that sweater, think they’ll sell them at Disneyland?

And they’re back to gambling. See! I told you this was Montana! They even have a gun rack!

Look at Little Orphan Blondie taking down fools with some cards! I bet Ryan-from-Accounting is smiling watching from Heaven or wherever he’s fighting the Space Balrog to come back as Space Gandalf.

Oh who is this fat fuck. Lord a mercy, is he the one fat imperial we have ever seen? Man I tell you what I bet he’s too hefty to ride in an AT-AT and that’s why they sent him to Space Montana, thinking the hiking and eating venison and berries will slim that brother up.

Maybe Vader will force him to run while carrying Palpatine like we did to other recruits in the Navy.

Nope, he’s gambling with a little girl in a bar, because the Empire just can’t follow rules now can it. That don’t make any sense. I’m with you, Daddy Warcrimes, giving that sour puss to everyone. I would too.

And now Officer Fat Fuck is gone done taking money from a child who beat him fair and square. Yup, he works for the government, all right. I bet he manages the Empire’s DMV.

Creepy little street boy wants some cash to tell them where they took Mutant Jimmers. I don’t blame the boy, it looks like no one wants to buy his shitty watermelon and he ain’t got a face.

Why in the hell are there so many animals in crates and shit here? They starting a zoo or something? Is it all to feed Officer Fat Fuck? I need info on this.

Shit yeah, fire them guns, Daddy Warcrimes! It’s your time to shine, big boy!

Oh yeah they freed Mutant Jimmers! And everybody else. Oh man, is that a kraken? Whelp, its dinner tonight is Officer Fat Fuck. Good on ya, kraken, you may be named after the world’s worst hockey team but ain’t bad all the time now.

(pictured: they keep losing games but hey they at least eat imperial officers?)

Gotta fry some dumb Imperial while you’re leaving, of course. Why they wearing them goggles when they got helmets on? Shit, real dumb. Don’t like the Inspector Gadget trench coats either, those can get caught real quick in a door and that’s how you get shot and all.

Ah yeah, they saved their cash, grabbed a ship, and they’re off to the moon! There they go!

DADDY RAMBO LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE JULIO AND DADDY WARCRIMES ALL BACK TOGETHER! OH MY LORD MEAT MUFFIN I AIN’T EXPECTING THIS THIS EARLY! WOW!

(image from @dreamswithghosts)

And Mutant Jimmers is with them too. It’s a good day on the moon!

Tagging Doug's fans of course: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the bad batch #redneck doug #doug why #doug the neighbor #doug talks star wars #doug watches the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #clone trooper #star wars tv #cajun doug

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

Note

Okay but. Bruce going to watch his wife in court?

Another trial of the century of the week.

Another over sensationalized case.

A false flag. A smoke screen. And Bruce knew as he watched you get ready that morning that you were pissed. Your mental crosshairs were aligned and you were ready to go.

You hadn't wanted this case. Your client, a young woman who murdered her boyfriend had been difficult to work with from the start. She thought she was a gangster. She thought she could orchestrate a bunch of things from jail.

But all she'd managed to do was hamstring herself. And you. The best you could do was keep her from the death penalty. Life without parole was on the table. Harvey was playing hard ball. And from what Bruce understood, you didn't blame him.

All they were missing was a literal smoking gun on their side. But even with reasonable doubt... if she didn't stop fake crying and trying to slander the man she killed, it wouldn't matter. At this rate all you could hope for was a retrial on the grounds that some of the police work was less than stellar- but you had to be careful playing that gambit because burning bridges with Gordon was going to make things a massive pain in the ass the next time you needed a favor. Or to strong arm him into doing something about bad cops.

Bruce could see it all in your head like a chess board. But all you had was a handful of pawns that you couldn't get across the board. Still. You were putting up a good fight. Doing the duty you were charged with. Providing for the best interests for the person you were defending.

The confidence. The arguments. He could see you WORK. Even from his seat in the gallery, where he sat to stay mostly out of sight- not wanting to add more pressure for you- he could see the intensity.

It definitely did something for him. Smart women were his biggest weakness. Smart. Driven. Brave. God he loved you. And he couldn't wait for you to get home.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #ask answered #minors dni #doting husband!bruce

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littlefeatherr · 3 months

Text

Things that stood out to me in Bad Batch S3 with spoilers in no particular order:

Omega kept a tally of her days imprisoned mirrors Wrecker's mission tally.

Crosshair gave Omega permission to leave him behind, and Omega saw right through it.

IMO Crosshair actually looked physically stronger by episode 3. Omega's pep talks seemed to push him to start preparing physically and mentally for escape, even though she didn't realize it.

Crosshair kneeling down/sitting on the floor to be on Omega's level while pretending to be annoyed by her telling him about her day was so sweet and very much like his brothers.

Sending Omega away so she wouldn't end up like him mirrors Crosshair on Kamino when he wanted to send her away and told Hunter to let her go if he wanted her safe.😪😪😪

Omega's straw Lula 😢😢😢😢

I love Omega's murder pup Batcher!

Crosshair immediately pissed at Emery for downplaying Omega's imprisonment mirrors Hunter Echo and Tech getting upset with Phee telling her tall tales.

It's hilarious that Hemlock sicced the other hounds on her and Crosshair, considering Omega's the one who feeds them. Of course they protected her!

Hunter's grief was just palpable. I love that Wrecker comforts him, puts his arm around him. Do we think Wrecker's the oldest?

The cadets impressed with Hunter and Omega is such a contrast to the regs antagonizing and rejection of them in season 1.

The Emperor has never been scarier.

Is Omega's befriending animals previously thought to be vicious connected to her Force connections?

Angelica Houston as Isa Durand!!!

I'll probably add more later after rewatch. Please feel free to add your own comments to this too!

#tbb spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #the bad batch #sw tbb s3

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lifblogs · 2 months

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I’m honestly not that weirded out by the Bad Batch not constantly talking about Tech or crying and crying. This is almost six months since his death. Six months past my friend’s murder and I was back to trying to live. I wasn’t screaming all the time anymore. Life just finds its ways of sneaking in after six months. At six months you’re not shattered into trillions of pieces anymore. Sure, you’re broken pieces put together (maybe some haphazardly), but you’re still there, and life and living—that’s still there. Somehow you find yourself participating in it again. So after almost six months, and with other things in the plot going on, I’m not that surprised by how they talk about Tech. They feel that emptiness and pain, but realize they’re still breathing and somehow living through it. And his absence is HUGE. It’s so obvious because of who he was, what he did. They’re clearly floundering still, and that’s part of it. The majority of the squad are soldiers, and they’re facing some serious problems right now, in the moment. With all that, I’m not actually sure they really know how to open up or talk about what they’re feeling. They’re clearly very emotional guys, but opening up is actually usually a HUGE problem therapists face with their military patients. And I think we’ll see them having to face this eventually. I mean, look at Crosshair. He’s having tremors because he’s bottling up all his pain and fear and hopelessness from Tantiss. So imagine what the others are doing to themselves, bottling it up. Eventually, it has to come out, especially if the plot makes it come out, and forces them to look at that pain. I’m absolutely sure that’s exactly what will happen. Don’t worry. The bottling it up will give us a lot to see and feel.

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #sort of #tbb #tbb spoilers #murder mention

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wolveria · 1 month

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On Frozen Wings - Ch 5

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: 18+ only, Explicit

Hunter and Crosshair deal with the aftermath of Ventress' beatdown the best way they know how.

AO3

Hunter hit the pillow face-first, a loud, shameless groan leaving him.

Crosshair landed on the pillow next to him, his wince visible as he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Ow,” Hunter supplied helpfully. Crosshair snorted.

“We’ve both taken worse. And don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Hunter declined to comment. Crosshair sent him a sideways glance.

“How’s your stomach?” he asked in a way that made it seem like he didn’t care. Hunter smiled a little.

“No broken ribs, so, not bad. How’s your head?”

“Still attached to my neck.”

With how hard Ventress had slammed her boot into the side of Crosshair’s head, that was a small miracle.

And yeah, it had been enjoyable to fight an opponent hand-to-hand who was so skilled, better than any of them. But when she’d put Crosshair in a hold that might prove dangerous, Hunter’s instincts had taken over, and he’d unsheathed his vibroblade without conscious thought.

A lot of good that had done. Crosshair had ended up semi-unconscious, Wrecker choked in midair, and Hunter with a laser sword pointed at his face.

“You know the only reason the Jedi lost is because the regs got the jump on them,” Hunter commented quietly. That, and the generals had genuinely seemed to care about the troopers under their charge. Hunter wouldn’t be surprised if a reluctance to murder their own men had stayed the Jedi from responding with immediate lethal force.

Crosshair grunted but didn’t say anything further. They hadn’t spoken about what happened on Kaller, but Hunter could sense his discomfort. Shooting at the Padawan was probably on his list of mistakes. Hunter had his own regrets with being unable to protect the kid. Jedi or not, he’d been a child.

A child on a battlefield. In hindsight, there were many things about the war that filled Hunter with a soft kind of horror.

He didn’t realize Crosshair was staring at him until the silence went on for too long. Hunter sent him a questioning look, replaying the conversation to see if there had been a comment he’d missed.

Instead of explaining anything, the sniper rolled over onto him, sprawled across Hunter’s back like a warm blanket, or an especially large feline.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Crosshair said in a lazy drawl, his lips equally unhurried as they traced over Hunter’s neck.

He shivered and pressed his face into the pillow to prevent any sounds from escaping. He should be too tired for this, but his full cock pressed into the mattress begged to differ. They hadn’t done any… touching… since the night Crosshair put his mouth on him. They’d been too exhausted each night after a day of hard labor. Shep hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d put them to work if they really wanted, and they’d been helping build new houses along the top of the island.

Each house had to be crafted by hand machine, made of a hard mixture with the white sands found around the island. It was a painstaking process, but Shep said the houses would last several lifetimes and weather anything but tsunamis.

He was happy to help, but most days, Hunter barely made it to the bed before falling asleep.

Which had been great for him, as chronically sleep deprived as he was. But it seemed to be a point of frustration for Crosshair, and Hunter sometimes caught him staring as he hoisted up buckets of sand mixture. Especially on hot days when Hunter was stripped down to the waist.

His lips twitched. Maybe if Crosshair got frustrated enough, he’d stop trying to make Hunter the focus of attention and actually let himself feel good. First time for everything.

“And what should I be doing?” Hunter asked, raising his hips to rub against Crosshair’s erection, and—all right, so maybe Hunter was a bit keyed up from the fight too. These things happened, it was natural, and reminded him too much of their cadet sparring days.

“Depends,” Crosshair purred.

“On?”

“How do you want it?”

Not the first time he’d been asked, and even though Crosshair slowly grinding against his ass felt nice—really nice—he still hesitated. Hunter wasn’t used to new territory, at least when it came to himself.

With Crosshair, he wanted to dive right in, explore his brother and find the secret, hidden things that would make him lose his composure. Hunter knew they existed, he’d caught a glimpse on the Remora, which was why it was so frustrating that Crosshair was making him the focus of these explorations.

Hunter wondered if it was because he was inexperienced. It was surprisingly sweet that Crosshair was trying to take it slow for him, and it was also steadily driving him insane.

Crosshair must have come to his own conclusions from the silence. The wrong ones. He started to pull away, but Hunter grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him.

“I… know what I want,” Hunter said, his voice raspier than he meant it to be. Crosshair looked at him carefully, and this time, the right conclusions were drawn.

“You just don’t know how you want it.”

Hunter nodded, face pressed again into the pillow because it was easier than meeting his eye.

“It’s almost cute,” Crosshair purred, and Hunter growled into the fabric. The sniper lifted off him and smacked him on the ass. “I said ‘almost.’”

Now Hunter really did snarl at him, but Crosshair’s attention was elsewhere, looking for something. When he found it, Hunter’s expression went from bared teeth to wide-eyed surprise.

Crosshair smirked and the small bottle of lube danced between his fingers the way Hunter had watched him deftly handle a toothpick.

“Don’t look so worried. No one’s holes are going to be breached.”

“Oh… kay.”

Hunter didn’t know what to say to that, or the lingering glimmer in Crosshair’s eyes. But when the sniper leaned over his back and pressed his lips to his neck, Hunter cared less what mischief he had in mind.

“Relax,” Crosshair murmured, as if that silky voice would do anything but the exact opposite, setting Hunter’s blood on fire. It certainly didn’t help when he tugged off Hunter’s undershorts and straddled the back of his bare thighs.

Hunter looked over his shoulder to confirm Crosshair was also without pants, only to learn he wasn’t wearing anything. Not a stitch on him, and Hunter groaned and tried to turn over, but the sniper wouldn’t let him.

It was unfair. Finally, Crosshair completely naked, and he couldn’t even get a good look at him.

“Quit squirming,” Crosshair complained. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one waiting for… whatever was going to happen next.

And then Hunter nearly jumped out his skin as he felt the cold viscous liquid drip onto the backs of his thighs. Crosshair had said he wasn’t going into any holes, but it sure seemed like he was, and Hunter wasn’t sure he would mind if he did.

But still, nerves trembled through him, like a wet animal that had been left out in the cold too long.

Crosshair soothed his hand along the curve of his hip, unusually gentle given his annoyed tone. Hunter tried to relax, he really did, but he still flinched when the lube was spread between his thighs.

Crosshair didn’t touch anywhere else, even though he was so close that it was growing tortuous, and Hunter kept raising his hips, seeking any kind of stimulation he could get.

He was rewarded with another slap on his ass, and he snarled again despite the fact it didn’t really hurt. It wasn’t embarrassment either that made his cheeks hot and his hips press desperately into the mattress, either to get away from another possible slap or for more stimulation.

Hunter froze when Crosshair once again laid on his back, his bare skin scorching—and he needed the rest of his clothes off now. Hunter tugged off the top of his body suit, all that was left after they’d stumbled into the house and taken off their gear, revealing bruised flesh.

Crosshair gave his own irritated growl, though his hands told a different tale as they explored his bare sides and rib cage, as if to leave his own imprints along Hunter’s marred skin.

“Trying to make this easier on you, and you’re not helping.”

“I’m helping plenty,” Hunter bit back. “You gonna hurry up?”

Crosshair let out another animalistic sound, and damn, Hunter needed to get him this riled up again. Despite his sharp tongue and prickly attitude, he rarely let himself lose control. And now that he heard the edge in that voice, Hunter couldn’t stop poking at it, like a tongue to a sore tooth.

“Or do you need a hand back there?”

“Don’t make me put you over my knee,” Crosshair growled, further proving his point. Hunter snorted.

“My ass already took a beating today.”

“It can take more.”

Hunter opened his mouth, but his words died as Crosshair shifted his hips, and with a few adjustments, squeezed his cock between Hunter’s thighs.

He shivered—everything was sensitive against his skin right now—but Hunter was more confused than anything.

“And… this is going to feel good?”

“For me, it is,” Crosshair grunted. And then he pulled Hunter’s hips, tilting them up, while his other hand slid around and grabbed his cock. “Now, relax. Or don’t. It’ll be good either way.”

Hunter let out a noise that was humiliatingly close to a whine, but Crosshair had heard worse than that from him. Undeterred, he tested this new angle, carefully thrusting between his thighs, matching his rhythm with his hand.

Yeah, it was good, but it was also a cruel kind of teasing. Crosshair’s hand was a light touch, and the thrusts felt nice but not like anything in particular. It was as if Crosshair was fucking him, but not fucking him. The signals to his brain were confused, unsure if he should push back or rut forward.

Another whine left his throat as Hunter half-buried his face into the pillow. It was torture, it was pleasure, and Hunter wanted—

An image burned through his thoughts, of flipping them both over, forcing Crosshair onto his back as he nipped at his neck, and then prying his knees apart and lining himself up before plunging in deep.

The scene was so visceral that he groaned in his throat, his cock weeping as he tried, and failed, to make Crosshair move his hand faster.

“Crosshair,” he growled, but the sniper didn’t seem to sense the danger he was in. The answering hum sounded unaffected on the surface, but Hunter could smell the sharpness of arousal, the cock between his thighs hard and slick against his skin.

“Move.”

The sniper let out a low, breathy chuckle at the threat.

“Someone’s… impatient.”

Hunter bit into the pillow so he wouldn’t be tempted to sink teeth into skin—and now that image wouldn’t leave him either. Crosshair’s bare throat on display, unmarked and untouched, just waiting for his teeth to find that perfect place between neck and shoulder—

Hunter let out another growl, this one deep and wild, unnerving even for him. And for some forsaken reason, that seemed to push Crosshair’s buttons; he cursed under his breath and rutted his hips faster, his fingers finally gripping Hunter like he meant it.

His own fingers dug at the sheets as if to tear them to ribbons. His balls ached, his cock so hard it almost hurt, and Crosshair panted in between soft noises that were almost whines. They tugged at something deep, and Hunter knew on an instinctual level he could rip those sounds out of Crosshair into full-blown whimpering cries.

Just a hint of what that would require—holding Crosshair down and biting on the vulnerable flesh of his throat—jettisoned Hunter over the edge.

He clamped his teeth on the pillow, a poor substitute, and came hard. Sparks danced behind his shut eyes and tingled up his spine as he spilled over Crosshair’s hand, neither of them caring about the mess on the sheets.

Something warm splashed between his legs, signaling Crosshair’s own relief, accompanied by the sniper lying boneless against his back. They didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy trying to find their air, and Hunter was too relaxed to move anyway.

An amused huff next to his ear as Crosshair remarked, “Did you rip my pillow?”

Sure enough, the pillow that had met Hunter’s teeth had come out the loser, a tear rent through the fabric. Hunter winced. If he really did plan on biting Crosshair at some point, he would have to be gentler than that.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Mmm.”

Crosshair rolled off him in a lazy movement, and Hunter did the same, resting on his back as he winced at the stickiness between his thighs. He almost considered a shower, but he’d probably fall asleep under the spray if he tried.

A small smile crossed his face.

“Figured out what I want now.”

“Goody,” Crosshair mumbled, the sarcasm lost with the words into the pillow. “So glad I could assist.”

Hunter’s smile widened a little more. Crosshair could grumble now because his sarcasm wouldn’t save him later. Not with half the things Hunter had in mind.

Once he felt his legs could support him, Hunter started to get up, and… didn’t think about it. He leaned over, glanced down Crosshair’s naked body with a hunger that was only temporarily sated, and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

Crosshair stiffened, his eyes wide. Hunter himself struggled for something to say, and when nothing came out, he simply moved on and pretended he’d meant to do that. That it was totally normal and not at all like it felt they were toeing a new line.

After he wiped down himself and Crosshair—all while ignoring the sniper’s grumbled protests— he went to cupboard where the clean sheets were kept. Every step sent a wince up his back, and Hunter recalled exactly why it felt like a gunship had been dropped on him. Omega wanted to get to the bottom of her M-count levels, and Ventress supposedly offered her help.

Hunter had eventually given in, to Crosshair’s eternal side eye, and Omega could have one more day for these “tests.” After that, Ventress was gone for good.

Hunter only hoped she would leave without a fight this time. The way his body ached, he didn’t look forward to round two.

Though with the way Crosshair immediately descended on him once they got back into the clean bed, lips and teeth at his neck, Hunter might have to reconsider that statement. He wasn’t the only one that got riled up after a good fight. Thankfully, even Crosshair’s stamina couldn’t recover that quickly, and he didn’t do much more than nip, but it was enough for Hunter to growl and flip him around. He couldn’t sleep with Crosshair’s damn teeth on him, and his cock was making a valiant effort to rally.

Crosshair didn’t seem to mind Hunter’s less than gentle grip, wiggling for a moment before settling back against him, the length of his body perfectly flush against his.

Maybe they have should put some clothing on, but Hunter was loath to move, his nose at Crosshair’s nape, the lingering scent of the shampoo on his skin.

“Weeping maya,” Hunter suddenly said.

“…What.”

“The white blossom. That’s what I smelled.”

“How hard did she crack your head against the ground?”

Hunter hummed a chuckle and closed his eyes.

Next Chapter

#the bad batch #crosshunt #clone shipping #crosshair x hunter #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #wolveria writes

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thejediscrolls · 9 months

Text

You Drew Stars

Hunter x Jedi reader

A choice will be made.

Angst

Pt 8 to You Drew Stars

“Omega?” Hunter called out for the young girl once again.

He’s lost track of the time he has spent looking for her and that was only because he was on the other side of the island when Wrecker brought this to his attention. She’s been disappearing and quiet a lot lately and of course he knew the reason why. How everyone could see the once bright girl was no longer cheerful, but how could she be?

Hunter knew he was close to finding her. There was only three known spots of hers that she could be at and he could already sense her presence and the way her heartbeat picked up the closer he got.

“I know you’re here, kid.” Hunter sighed as he stood along the cove, “You’ve been distant all day... Longer than that.” He whispered the last part, “Everyone is worried about you. Wrecker hasn’t even gone near fishing, said he’s been waiting for you.”

She didn’t want to respond, she just couldn’t get the words out. She just wanted to enjoy the waves of the ocean gently hitting the shoreline alone.

Another breath left Hunter’s lips when he earned no witty response in return, “Kid… What’s wrong?” He asked, his tone more gentle and soft spoken.

Omega huffed at the persistency of her brother even though she knew that he meant well.

“It’s been three months…” Omega finally answered as she poked at the sand with a stick, “Three months, thirteen days-”

Hunter could barely see her small form hiding around one of the rocks by the cove.

“And six hours… I know kid.” He sighed as he took in the beautiful sea before him.

Hunter hated to admit it out loud, but he had been counting the days as well.

There was a moment of serenely, a pause before Omega spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper, but Hunter heard. His enhanced hearing could be a blessing and a curse.

“It’s different.�� She whispered.

“What is?” Hunter already knew the answer, but this is the most he’s heard from her since…

“Everything!” Now her voice raised as frustration and anger took over her form.

For a second she reminded him of Crosshair as he watched the stick she was holding fly into the air and into the shallow depths of the ocean before reappearing to float away.

Hunter had an ache in his chest knowing that they would have gotten along quite well if only Crosshair had given them a chance…

“Everything’s different. I can’t sleep because I don’t have her stories to listen to. I don’t like the food because it’s not hers. I always forget to tie my short or brush my hair. Everything is at a standstill here and-” She huffed as she ran a hand through her hair, “I can’t…”

He let the young girl rant, choosing to sit on the opposite side of the rock.

Hunter knew what the kid was going through. He has put up a pretty good front to the new community that they’ve been gracefully accepted into as well but… He hasn’t felt like himself either.

Day by day the realization that his General was truly gone chipped away at his nerve, piece by piece. Yet he still tried to hold on and be a leader from his family even if one of them was… Gone.

“I miss my mom.” Omega said finally, her voice trailing off into a quiet whisper.

Hunter closed his brown eyes, leaning his head back against the rock. The sun felt warm against his skin, but did little to warm the empty m chill in his heart.

“I know kid…” He repeated those words to her and they were once again left in that numbing silence.

I know…

That’s all he can say at this point.

If only he could just bring her back…

He would…

“She would have liked it here.” Hunter murdered.

Omega let out a broken laugh as she wiped away her tears, “I think it’s a bit too peaceful for her.”

Hunter chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. For a Jedi she is-was quite adventurous.”

“Yeah…” Omega agreed.

“Come on. Wrecker wanted to show you something.” Hunter said as he stood up, “Like I said, he’s been waiting all day for you. I think you’ll like it.”

As he held his hand out towards her and he could only hope that Wrecker will be able to take the poor girls mind off of her loss, at least for a little while.

Maybe he could grab a drink. That seems to work these days.

…

It was the beeping that startled me at first.

The sound rang through my ears, echoing through the darkness I saw. I didn’t notice it at first, but panic quickly settled in when I realized that I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t do anything…

Why can’t I move? What happened? I wondered as I began to come to.

My limbs felt heavy, tugging to the cold metal that lied underneath me.

Metal… That’s… A good sign right? It must mean that I’m back on the ship?

Images began to flood my mind as I remembered the events on that docking bay.

Did the others end up saving me? Did Tech make it? He must have… I have to believe that he did.

I wanted to open my mouth, to call out for them and yet my mind was stuck motionless against my body.

Why can’t I speak? Why can’t I do anything? How long have I been out?

“She’s beginning to wake up.” A female voice that I had no recollection of said just to my left.

That’s not Omega. Was my first thought and panic began to settle in.

“Give her another shot of the sedative.” It was a male voice that spoke up this time.

Definitely not one of the boys… I’m not back home am I?

I tried to remember everything that happened hoping that I can piece together the truth.

This couldn’t be a real hospital, no… I must have been captured then, but by who? Who in the empire would want me alive rather than dead…

It was then I remembered the lengths I had to go through to make sure Tech lived… I used the force and now…

They know who I really am.

“She can’t wake up until the doctor is ready to see her.” The man said.

No! I wanted to shout at them, but I could already feel myself beginning to fade as a needle pressed into my skin.

What is… Happening to me? Help… Somebody please.

Hunter…

…

“Echo will be arriving soon.” Tech walked up to the bar, a warm low light from the hanging lanterns glowed over him and his brother.

Tech found himself standing beside the brooding soldier. Someone who looked less like a soldier and more like an unraveling piece of string, his brother.

“That’s good news.” Hunter nodded his head not really paying attention to his brother, “It’s been a while since he stopped by, Rex has been putting him on a lot of missions lately.”

Tech agreed, “Echo is one of the best so there’s no reason why Rex wouldn’t.”

Hunter nodded and soon his focus was towards the purple liquid in his drink that changed to a blue every time he swirled it around.

“I have information…” Tech’s voice trailed off nervously, he couldn’t calculate Hunter’s reaction

“About?” Hunter drawled out with a furrowed brow.

“Echo stated over the comms that he has obtained coordinates that would lead us straight to Crosshair.” Tech said as gently as he was capable too, he was glad that he confided with Phee first before presenting this to Hunter.

He also knew the mention of their brother’s name would light a fuse in Hunter and for as much as Tech wanted to be wrong, he was right once again.

Tech continued when he got no answer, “This time it’s real. No side mission, no puzzle. We know where Crosshair is. We can bring him back home.”

“No.” Hunter stated sternly.

“For all he has done, he is still our brother.” Tech pushed, “He deserves to be saved. Wrecker and I think…” He was cut off before he could finish.

“Yeah? And look where that got us last time. She’s dead because we tried to save our brother who so clearly doesn’t want to be saved.” Hunter said as he took a big gulp of his beer.

“Crosshair is located on Mount Tantiss. Wrecker, Echo and I have already looked over the layout and we agree that it can be done.” Tech continued, hoping to persuade his sergeant.

“No. I’m done putting anymore lives at risk. Stop asking.” Hunter grunted.

“The General would have done it.” Tech stated firmly.

That seemed to have lit a spark of anger within the old sergeant as he slammed his glass down and finally looked at his brother with a pointed glare. He stood as he spoke, rising to his full height which didn’t compare to his brother, but intimidated the taller soldier none the less.

“Don’t you dare. Bring her into this.” Hunter spat, “She is gone because we tried to save crosshair, the brother who betrayed us for the empire. He made his choice. I will not… I refuse to loose anyone else die. Do you hear me?”

“Yes… Sir.” Tech nodded stiffly before taking his data pad and walking away as his brother slumped back into his seat with a defeated sigh.

“What did he say?” Phee asked Tech the moment she saw him.

His shoulders were slumped more than usual and she knew that the little conversation didn’t go too well.

“He said no.” Tech confirmed solemnly.

Phee placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “We’ll get through to him.”

…

“It seems her vitals are stable, though I would have preferred it if the storm troopers didn’t shoot up my second most prized possession. It is rare to find a Jedi now a days.” Doctor Hemlock studied the Jedi who laid motionless on the table.

“Yes.” Emerie agreed as she checked on the Jedi’s vitals, “She seems to have integrated smoothly into the healing process after the mechanical replacement to her right arm.”

“How is her arm?” He wondered as he stared at the silver steel, it matched perfectly with her left arm in shape and length, down to her fingers.

“There has been no complications and it seems to be functioning properly as well.” Emerie confirmed.

“That’s good news. Good work.” Hemlock commended his scientist, “And do we know which Jedi she is? If she fought in the clone wars? If she was highly regarded?”

“No doctor.” Emerie shook her head.

“Well… We’ll find out soon enough.” Hemlock smirked as he watched the Jedi began to wake up.

“Hello little Jedi.”

That voice sent a chill down my spine as I finally blinked my eyes open.

“Where…” I cleared my throat as I tried to get my bearings.

I was in a room that shined in a full silver. It almost looked like a hospital room, but I doubted it with the lack of medical equipment and the cuffs around my wrists.

“Who are you?” I finally asked as I looked to the man with the white coat.

His smile and vacant look in my eyes didn’t help the uneasiness in my stomach. Something was just not right about him… It was almost wicked… Dark…. Just who is this man?

“I am Royce Hemlock, but you may call me Doctor Hemlock.” He stated, “And who might you be?”

I said my name slowly, almost above a whisper as I studied him and the other woman in the room.

“Ah…” A flicker of acknowledgment flashed before his eyes, “Might you be the General who served in the clone wars? You are… The Jedi master Aayla Secura’s prodigy are you not?”

Heading my old master’s name again after so long, had tears welling my eyes. I didn’t give him a reply and I suppose that was answer enough when he clapped his hands together with glee.

“Oho! Look here, we have one of the best General and killer to ever grace the battlefield. This is going to be much more exciting then I had originally planned.”

“What do you mean? I am of no use to you.” I furrowed my brows as the cuffs on my hands unlocked, “The Jedi are no more. I am not more, just let me go…”

It was then that I noticed the glinting color of steel where my arm should be. My eyes widened in fear as a gasp left my lips.

“Oh don’t worry, we didn’t do that on purpose, a blaster shot had left your right arm completely immobilized and mangled so we did you a favor.” Hemlock stated with a wave of his hand, “Good as new.”

“Now follow me and don’t try any tricks. I’ve spent quite some time studying your kind exclusively and so I know how kind works. One click of this button and a shock will be sent through your right arm and towards your heart and well… I’m sure you can guess what would happen then.” He smirked as he waved the small device in his hand before shoving it into his pocket.

I really was captured by the enemy… Why couldn’t they have just let me die? What do they have planned… I honestly didn’t want to know the answer to my last question.

He didn’t even wait for me as he began walking out of the room.

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked him as I looked at my body and found that my wounds had been healed.

“Almost a month and with the bacta tank your wounds are nothing more than scars.” He said casually.

My brows furrowed, “Just what kind of a doctor are you?”

“I’m a chief scientist of the advance science division. My specialty is studying dna and…”

I cut him off.

“Clones.” I muttered in disbelief as I took in the sight before me.

We walked past cells with clone troopers trapped inside, a whole lot of them that it would take hours to count, maybe even days.

Each soldier looked malnourished and drained of energy, only a shell of what they use to be. It made my heart ache wondering if my boys could end up like this… If Omega…

Suddenly I wish for them to never find me.

No. It’s safer where they are. They must assume that I died so if I can’t find a way out of here myself then I hope they never find out the truth. Their lives are more important.

“Why yes, I’m in charge of the imperial cloning program.” Hemlock nodded not even bothering to glance at any of the soldiers he has kidnapped.

“They… They don’t deserve this.” I shook my head as I ran to one of the cells. The trooper could barely even look up at me as I tried to open his cell, “This isn’t right! It’s inhumane! You can’t just keep them in cells, they are human beings too! They deserve a choice.”

“No they do not. They are clones who are serving their purpose and I wouldn’t try to help them if I were you.” His voice grew dark as he reached for the remote in his pocket, “You’re able to walk around this facility as a courtesy. As long as you comply, there will be no reason to how do clones say? Ah yes. Decommission you.”

I slowly stepped back as my heart reeled with pain, “Please. Let them go. The clone wars are over. There is no use for cloning anymore, let these soldiers have their peace.”

“I am afraid I can’t.” He shook his head, “This is by the order of the empire and these clones here are highly regarded and needed to complete my project.”

“You mean they are just Guinea pigs for you to experiment on.” I spat at him with a glare.

“Not just them.” He walked into an open room with clones strapped to tables by a machine, “But you as well.” He turned towards me.

“What?” I furrowed my brows before I felt a prick in my neck.

“You my dear… Are going to be very important to my experiment. I’ve studied others like you of course, but it always ended in travesty. But just imagine! If I could finally figure out how Jedi are intertwined with the force and you would help me accomplish that! For the will of science. It is a great honor if I do say so myself.”

I shook my head as I took a step back, feeling my legs begin to wobble, “I don’t want to have any part of this.”

“I didn’t say you had a choice.” His eyes darkened as he stared at me, “You will either live here or die here. That is the only choice you have.”

“Besides, I’d love to see how a prized killer like you ticks hm?” His voice slowly got slower with every passing second, “Comply and you will see tomorrow, little Jedi.”

I felt hands lock around my arms and I found myself being dragged. I could barely make out one of the tables that was set up for me.

“Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing… For now.” His voice drifted away as I closed my eyes.

Not aware of my surroundings. Not aware of the clone with the significant tattoo knocked out a few tables away.

I felt like I was a child again, watching my home burn up in flames from the war. It was the first time in a while that I felt truly scared. I could feel a tear roll down my cheek as I my mind faded once again.

I want to go home.

“Start the reprogramming immediately. By the time we’re done with her she will obey us completely and running tests on her will go much more smoothly.” Dr. Hemlock stated with a nod, “Valuable dna and a Jedi general. She will fit here nicely.”

“But what about the clone over there.” Emerie pointed over at Crosshair, “Records show she was apart of Clone Force 99.”

Dr. Hemlock’s chuckle rang throughout the room, “This day just keeps getting better and better. This Jedi right here is our ticket to the clone girl and we’ll use him to keep her in line until the reprogramming is complete.”

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