#AND STOP TALKING ABOUT CLONING IN SEASON 2!

[awobbles]

If I see one more person say that Danno has been cloned I AM GOING TO LOSE IT!

#THE CLONING MACHINE WAS DESTROYED LAST SEASON! #*throws the entire season 1 lore at you* #READ THIS #AND STOP TALKING ABOUT CLONING IN SEASON 2! #danno cal #danno draws #danno #riggy runkey #riggy the rabbit monkey #riggy the runkey #the shorts wars #shorts wars arg #short wars s2 #short wars #youtube shorts arg #youtube shorts

[ofskysanddragonsandstars]

As many TBB fans, we really missed out on Echo becoming a true member of Clone Force 99. Like yeah, the unresolved trauma, not to mention Fives, but we all known Echo is a little shit, and has been a little shit since his cadets days.

Let's explore this a little more.

Show me Echo finally getting to spar with someone, anyone, and just pulls a nasty move to win. You know, the kind of move that is downright dirty? We all know what i'm talking about. But show me TBB standing there in shock that this twig of a reg just took down someone twice his weight. He does not yet have all his muscle mass back yet! This was supposed to be a warm up for Echo. A way to build up his strength. Instead they get reminded that Echo is an ARC trooper and he has been through a lot.

Show me Echo trying to stop a cafeteria fight by reciting the reg manuals, saying "per regulation, fighting is not allowed in the cafeteria, and if you would have taken the time to read the reg manuals, you would have known that. Can you even read?" and Hunter furiously trying to deescalate the situation and failing. Echo gets sucker punched but the other clone does not get off as easily. Apparently he had to spend the night in the med bay. Echo only feels a little bit guilty.

Show me Echo matching Crosshair's snarkiness with his own. Remember "Bravo for Bravo Squad"? But instead of being angry with each other, it starts a beautiful friendship between the ARC and Snark troopers. The rest of TBB don't get how there friendship works and just have to roll with it.

But overall, let's not forget that ARC training happens on Kamino. Show me Echo being called up by the ARC trainer for demonstration purposes. Afterall, it's not everyday a war hero gets to help train new ARCs (except for Alpha-17, perhaps). Show me a bunch of new ARC recruits looking in astonishment because "holy Prime, that's ARC Echo of the 501st! He withstood the worst torture imaginable! He basically made half the 501st tactics with The Captain Rex of the 501st!" only for Echo to just crush there poor little preconceptions. Because this little shit keeps it real with these recruits, explaining the reality of going on a mission with a zero success rate, of going through torture, of having to build up physical strength to the point that no cyber implants hurt anymore. Echo does not hold back and has no filter, his words are practically as blunt as the dullest blade and it can hurt just as much. But even through that, no recruit can beat him in a spar. Yet. It's become a new challenge within ARC training.

Of course, I am a sucker for Mom Echo during season 1 and 2, but let me see Echo being a little shit before that! Let me see Hunter calling Cody one night after a successful mission asking "what is up with this reg? Are all ARC troopers like this?" And since Cody has known the little shits that make up the Domino Twins he just solemnly nods his head while sniggering on the inside. He calls Rex afterwards. Rex just laughs.

#rex just wipes his hands as if to say not my problem anymore #Cody laughs until he realizes he is Echo's direct Commander now since Clone Force 99 is his jurisdiction #Rex says karma is a bitch #echo is a little shit #the bad batch #arc trooper echo #echo bad batch #tbb echo

[gffa]

Hi Lumi. This year I’ve watched The Clone Wars, Rebels, Mandalorian, Book of Boba Fett, and Tales of the Jedi and I’m watching Ahsoka as episodes are released. But I feel like I’m missing some context as to why people are wary of Filoni. What things should I know so I’m caught up, so to speak, in the fandom discussions?

Hi! That's a lot of Star Wars to watch in a year, I hope you're having fun with it all! And I will gently remind everyone that Filoni is not the be-all-end-all of Star Wars creators--Henry Gilroy was there for TCW and Rebels, too. George Lucas was holding writers' meetings years after the show started (at least into 2010!). The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett are far more Jon Favreau's shows. The Bad Batch is Brad Rau and Jennifer Corbett. Resistance was developed by him, but was run by other producers. It's just that Filoni tends to get the most camera time and has become the face of Star Wars creators. That said, the issue with Filoni is kind of two-pronged, though, they overlap. 1. He's done a lot of interviews where he's said a lot of anti-Jedi things that have drifted from reasonable critiques in the beginning to eventually "Qui-Gon Jinn was the only true Jedi. [blatantly wrong citations]" This has put a lot of people off him as a creator, because we love the Jedi Order that Lucas talks about and established, which Filoni has actively contradicted over the years, despite being promoted as someone who follows Lucas' themes. And it's hard not to be aware of his interviews when watching his shows and it's hard to enjoy shows that do your faves dirty, you know? 2. His writing has become weaker over the years for a lot of us--Rebels is a show most of us love and found to be incredible. Many of us really love The Clone Wars, which he was heavily involved in/was probably the central voice after Lucas started phasing out. But his biggest story told over the course of those series--basically, the story of Mandalore's history and fall to the Empire--has been extremely thin for a lot of us. And a lot of us get frustrated at his inability to be objective when it comes to Ahsoka's character, that we love her as a character very much, but it hasn't felt like Filoni really knows what to do with her character arc and yet almost everything he writes is centered around her. His final season of The Clone Wars? Gave her the walkabout arc and the Siege of Mandalore arc, both of which often did not hold up well under scrutiny. His episode of The Book of Boba Fett? I actually really loved it, but it absolutely just stopped the pacing of that show to focus a lot on her. More on Luke, but he couldn't resist putting her in there, either. Tales of the Jedi was half devoted to Ahsoka and so much of it wasn't even about her time as a Jedi! We're frustrated because he doesn't set things up well anymore--Morgan Elsbeth is a Nightsister?? Why wasn't that established in The Mandalorian instead of pulling out randomly in Ahsoka? Why does Sabine Wren suddenly so badly want Jedi training, when they barely even had a conversation in Rebels?? There's a lot of good that Filoni has given to Star Wars, I think he genuinely cares about the Force and what it means--he's very consistent on how it's not easy and how it takes discipline and control, that he has been consistent on how anger and fear are paths to the dark side, even his episode of TBOBF had Ahsoka saying, yeah, attachment is a path to the dark side, because the Jedi mean "attachment" in a more Buddhist-aligned way. A lot of his writing for the character of Ahsoka is actually pretty good, like I've been enjoying her being a prickly, traumatized hot mess in the show! It's just that I kind of hate all the interviews he gives and I think he's a lot less objective than a lot of fans and media coverage that would hold him up as a perfect writer/interviewee about all things Star Wars, and it all comes together to make him kind of a hot-button topic.

So, a lot of people LOVE Filoni's work, a lot of people are frustrated by it, a lot of people are casually fine about it, a lot of people HATE Filoni's work and it can be a fun mix of any of the above or even other issues that come up. (And that's all fine! I have my views on Filoni's work, but it's fine if others hate it more than I do or love it more than I do, there's room for us all, all of it is valid.)

But I think if you want to understand some of the roots of this corner of fandom's frustration, two (admittedly long as heck) homework assignment reads would be:

- My own rebuttal to Dave's behind the scenes Mandalorian Gallery talk (this is jokingly referred to as "Davegate" because I refused to take it too seriously) - @david-talks-sw's collection of comparisons between Lucas' commentary on the Jedi and Filoni's commentary on the Jedi

This response itself is more focused on laying out the problems a lot of people have with Filoni's writing, but also honestly I still have my giant collection of Jedi source material citations that quotes his commentary, I still bring up Filoni's quotes in current meta a lot, I still talk positively about the things I enjoy from his shows, so overall there's equal amounts of both praise and criticism here. So, as short as I can make it (which isn't very, shut up, I know! XD), that's basically what people mean when they say they're wary of Filoni.

#star wars #dave filoni #meta

[do-not-resuscikate]

A long, slight critical, rant about The Bad Batch.

Let me preface this by saying, I love this show, I think it has been one of the best animated shows to ever come out of Disney or Star Wars. This rant comes from a place of love.

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

I think it's pretty clear at this stage that The Bad Batch Season 3, while excellent in so many ways, is not quite sticking the landing when it comes to human moments.

There's a reason The Outpost is a fan favorite ep.

There's a reason a lot of people resonate with The Crossing.

And the reason is not action or setpieces, it's the human moments. The emotional moments.

The moments where characters stop and react.

I always thought it was an odd choice to bring back Echo but then have him not even mention Fives, nevermind not giving us any insight into Echos feelings about the circumstances surrounding his death. Rex even talks about how Fives tried to warn him about the chips, in front of Echo, and nothing!

Maybe it's a fluke, an oversight, I thought? Maybe, a story arc they had to trim so they could better explore the new characters!? 

And wow, did the writers do some amazing character work in season 2! I mean, chef's kiss, 10 outta 10. Gorgeous. Give me more of that.

But then, season 3 came.

Do we see proper conversation about the loss of Tech? No.

Do we see Crosshairs reaction to learning of his death? No.

Do we see Phees reaction to his death? No.

Do we see the groups immediate interaction after Crosshair returns. No.

Hells, Omega is taken AGAIN and Hunter doesn't even blink.

We maybe get a token mention here or there, and then on to the next copy/paste rescue/escape.

The writing team leave these beautiful breadcrumbs for us, we're dying to know how X will react to Y next week, and then they just never follow through.

I love this show, I really do, but I can only excuse this so many times.

With the series almost at its end, I think it's becoming increasingly clear that the writers think action setpieces, and escape plans, and heists are what the fans want. 

Don't get me wrong, the setpieces are great. But action is a dime a dozen these days. Plenty of shows and movies give us awesome explosions and shoot outs.

Far rarer are shows, and especially animated "childrens" shows, that give us genuine, gut-punching, emotional moments.

With so little time left, I'm doubtful of a truly satisfying finale to the Batches story. 

So many threads are still dangling, and we're all dying for answers. But we'll spend the next precious few episodes watch Omega break out of Tantiss AGAIN.

Whoever's under CX-2s mask might be significant, but will we see anyone's reaction to it? Will we have time to explore it's impact? Would they explore it even if they had the time?!

The thing many fans fell in love with about the clones is not that they're badass soldiers blowing up droids, it's how they behaved as people. 

How they interacted with each other, defined themselves, pushed their individuality, morality, and goodness to forefront despite being told they are only weapons.

 It's how they reacted to the world around them and their place in it.

The point of the clones stories is not action, it's reaction.

#star wars #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #star wars tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb spoilers #tbb crosshair #tbb omega

[punk-dad-sharkz]

not to keep star wars posting, but I keep seeing a lot of posts talking about how Hunter didn't clock the shadow clone operative but Batcher did, and other things talking about his super senses not really being used much this season.

And it makes me think, I wonder if his senses are only as good as his mental health?

cuz i've seen a lot of older stuff (like s1 theories/posts) that talk about Hunter's senses being overwhelmed by exterior sensory stuff and him not being able to use his senses as well, and I wonder if his internal problems/mental health are stopping him from doing his job as well.

Because even with Omega back, he still is very stressed out and during the shadow clone scene, he had just figured out Omega was a target so that probably added more stress to what he was already dealing with.

Between season 2 and 3, Hunter had to deal with his grief and emotions, mourning both Tech and losing Omega. And I also think Echo being gone didn't help.

And there's only so much Wrecker could do to help him, and Hunter seems the type to not tell Wrecker what's wrong or let him help.

Hunter "losing" his abilities checks out for this season, what with Crosshair also having trouble with his own ability. Seems like everything is catching up to the Batch and they're going to have to start relying on more than their abilities.

Just a thought, idk.

#thoughts by shark #really makes you think #I don't want anything bad to happen to my boys please god filoni don't hurt them any more than they already have been #sharkz rambles in the tags #tbb #the bad batch #star wars #sw tbb #sw tbb spoilers #bad batch spoilers #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker

[xecutivecucumber]

Executive Cucumber's thoughts on the Bad Batch: Season 3x06 and 3x07 (I'm pretty sure I'm formatting this differently every time. Oh well)

Okay, there's a subject I'm going to have to postpone until the end of the post because I want all my thoughts on that to be together: the main operative clone. And the rest might be slightly out of order. I'm also doing this before I see anyone else's thoughts, just so we get the pure version.

Let's go!

I honestly thought that Senator Singh and Riyo were dead meat. But no, they're fine because REX IS COOLER THAN ANYONE. Ugh that man. Freaking throwing the grenade back at him.

Clones are beautiful. That is all.

THAT'S THAT ONE PLACE FROM THE OG CLONE WARS MOVIE!!! TETH!!!

Howzer I love you but if you touch Crosshair we will be having words.

I am actually really proud of Crosshair and his restraint this episode. He could have been really cutting to Howzer.

OMEGA WITH THE TOOTHPIIIIICKS and Hunter is jealouuuus

EDIT: ECHO AND THE CROSSBOW HE'S SO SWEET

WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU CROSSHAIR

It's really nice to see normal clones being normal again. (Too bad it doesn't last)

There's something up with Omega. I'm not going to lie, I think that she and Rex are going to plan to get her captured in order to track her back to Tantiss.

HOWZER STOP DISTRUSTING CROSSHAIR THIS MOMENT

I appreciate that Hunter doesn't seem to distrust Crosshair during this point.

...they really shouldn't have brought that operative back.

Rex is considering stealing Omega, I swear. I love that he gets down to her level.

WOOOOOOOOOOOLFFE (Plo would be so disappointed in you)

It's...odd to see these normal troopers with him.

It's also strange that he cannot comprehend that the clones could be traitors at first.

STOP DYING YOU BEAUTIFUL REGS

'She only bites half the time' I'm pretty sure Omega is lying here but I don't care.

CROSSHAIR IS SUCH A WORRIED DAD HOLY CRAP. 'Oh, I'm much worse' I LOVE YOU

And this just gives such a little insight into how the Batch was when they were together. I have a feeling that Crosshair was a fusser and a nagger.

And I love how Howzer's natural and correct conclusion is: 'no one evil could love that child.' (Unless you're Nala Se)

Hey, actual candor from Crosshair. I keep saying this is who he always was under it all, but I do think he's healed somewhat, at least towards regs. The healing power of Omega.

'Too bad' I LOVE THIS MAN

STOP DYING REGS

Rex talking down Wolffe reminded me so much of him trying to talk Jesse down. So ow.

Okay, what ROCK have they shoved Wolffe under for the last YEAR??? YES THE EMPIRE WOULD GET RID OF THE CLONES YOU DOG BRAINED IDIOT

(Plo would be proud that you let them go)

...they just killed all of Rex's clones, except Howzer and Gregor. And I have a bad feeling about Howzer. STOP TAKING THINGS FROM REX HASN'T HE LOST ENOUGH???

Okay here we are, at the big topic. Hold onto your pants.

That operative clone. Is. Tech. Because if he is not, they are purposefully using the narrative to deceive us.

I might miss a few things, but that's because I'm up past my bedtime and I've been up too late the last few days.

1. The falling and water parallels. This clone falls a LOT during this episode and dives into a lot of water. He even falls into mist. This time it's to kill and capture his siblings instead of save them.

2. The injury. This clone is hobbling around a lot after his injury, which was immediately reminiscent of Tech's broken leg at the beginning of season 2. Both of them are forcing themselves past their limit to achieve a mission. Specifically with injured legs.

3. General attitude and demeanor. In combination with the stealth and injury, this clone has a more hunched posture. His speech patterns are more formal, though we haven't really heard a lot of other clone operatives talk with their helmets on. But he's also apparently allergic to orders. I first thought that he'd be out of the chain of command, but they would have told Wolffe that he wasn't in charge of the operative if that were the case. Or the operative would have straight up told him 'I don't take orders from you' instead of staring awkwardly at him. Instead he runs off and does his own thing. While injured. Not to mention the buttons on his gauntlet. The other clone operatives don't have those.

4. The cybernetic legs. Now we don't know for sure if Tech would have cybernetic legs, but it seems likely for a severely injured trooper. And when Crosshair is looking at the heat signature, you can see that his legs are blue instead of yellow or red. No heat. Not organic.

5. What he says to Crosshair. 'You could have been one of us.' 'You chose the wrong side.' Yes, he's talking about Crosshair resisting the re-education. But flip it on its head real quick. 'You could have been one of us. One of the Bad Batch.' 'You chose the wrong side. The Empire.' Those lines very easily have double meanings.

6. An interesting one is when he starts moving rocks after the explosion. Why would he do that? Why not immediately go find another way in? He's moving only the smaller rocks. There's a large one in the way that he couldn't move himself. And he doesn't get the rest of the troopers to come move it when they arrive. He almost seems confused.

Like he's somewhere else after an explosion, having to move rocks. Like in the Crossing.

I know that this hardly seem like iron clad evidence. But in the language of story telling, it's practically screaming in our faces.

And I'm so glad he's back. I missed him. He won't be himself for a while, but I legitimately believe we'll get one last fight with the Batch all together. Because brain washing is a heck of a lot easier to fix than being dead.

My sister is doing the good work and creating a tik token about it, and I'll probably share it here when she's finished.

(We're getting the episode 'Identity Crisis ON MY BIRTHDAY and so help me if that's about Tech)

Honestly I thought I'd be more excited, but I spent the entire two episodes forcing myself into not having expectations and also I might be in shock.

#the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #star wars #tbb season 3 #captain rex #commander wolffe #captain howzer #tech lives #i am sure of it now #crossdad #can this show stop being so good I'm trying to live my life #and I'm up too late again #clone troopers

[lightwise]

Hunter’s Lies and Leadership in Aftermath

(Plus some misc thoughts)

Decided to do a quick little rewatch of Aftermath yesterday morning, and noticed something I haven’t paid attention to before.

(First, I have to say that one of my favorite moments out of the entire series is the first exchange between Hunter and Crosshair when Cross is still in his right mind—“Crosshair, let’s get these tanks moving!” “Sir, yes sir.” Just brings a smile to my face at their lighthearted snarkiness every time. These are their real, unburdened personalities. Ones we haven’t gotten to see since.)

As for what I noticed, I realized how much Hunter lies throughout the episode, and easily. His wartime leadership skills are at their strongest here, the easy, confident, calling-the-shots tone that designates his position as squad leader. He knows his men, he knows what they’re capable of, and he knows what needs to be done in order to accomplish a goal. He’s tactical, perceptive, quick thinking and responsive to what is happening around him even as he is also internally processing things that don’t make sense to him. (This is in stark contrast to his reserve and indecisiveness in season 2, which I’ll save for another post).

However, as close knit as the group is, and as honest as we know the Batch is and that Hunter is not intentionally manipulative, he immediately, easily, and without hesitation lies multiple times. The first time is to protect Caleb as he leaps over the waterfall and Crosshair then comes up asking where he went.

“Where’s the Jedi?”

“I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.”

Hunter knows something is up with Crosshair, though he doesn’t know what. And he wants Caleb to be safe. But his instant response is a straight up lie and he doesn’t even waver in delivering it. He furthers the lie on their return home when Crosshair questions him about it. He knows Crosshair doesn’t believe him but he’s not ready to open that can of worms mid flight.

He lies again when they land back on Kamino and a shock trooper asks him if they have a problem with what’s going on. This time though he stutters and is much less convincing in his delivery, I think both because he’s becoming more and more confused at what is going on, and also because he’s now lying to authority and could actually face consequences if he doesn’t give the “right” answer. Regardless, it’s interesting that his nerves shine through here but not when he’s talking to his squad, who would know much more quickly his tells and attitudes than a random trooper would.

His next lie is to Tech during the briefing by Palpatine to all of the clone troopers. This is the first time for this show that we see how Tech pays attention to Hunter’s reactions, and when Hunter sees Omega for the first time, Tech asks him what he sees, and Hunter says “nothing” when he realizes that Omega has disappeared.

He also sort of half lies to Omega when they leave for Onderon, telling her that a mission is a mission and that it’s nothing to worry about. He’s churning inside though. He knows none of this make sense. But of course he’s not going to tell a kid that, he wants to comfort her and make her feel at ease.

All of this makes me wonder—is this something Hunter was used to doing? Is he so used to being the leader who holds everyone together, with no one for him to really turn to, that he’ll do whatever needs to be done to keep the peace or complete their mission objective, even if it means lying to his brothers in the moment? Or is this newer for him and he’s using it as a way to cope with the sudden shift in the situations they are dealing with?

And then Saw Gerrera says something interesting when they’re trying to apprehend him on Onderon. He says to Hunter as the leader of the group specifically:

“Take a look at the group of insurgents you were sent to destroy. Makes you wonder what else they’re lying about.”

Now, I’m not saying that Hunter took this to mean “oh man I gotta stop lying to my crew because that’s what the empire is doing to us and that’s no way to lead.” But, he doesn’t lie anymore through the rest of this episode, nor in the next one. I’d have to watch through the series again to remember if there are any other occasions of him directly lying to the Batch (vs to a stranger to keep them safe). There does seem to be a shift in his demeanor after this though. And Saw’s words seem to help him coalesce his thoughts because he quickly comes to the decision that they are going to get Omega and then desert, and he doesn’t hide this from any of the Batch members, not even Crosshair.

Side note 1: This episode also has some really beautiful indications of how much Hunter cares too: him saying “nice work” to Crosshair after their training session, him yelling “no!” when Caleb and Crosshair are fighting because he’s worried about either of them harming the other, and him telling Omega to stay away from them because their squad is nothing but trouble.

Side note 2: Omega tells Crosshair that she knows what he’s going to do before he’s taken away. Then when they are all gearing up in the hanger and about to go look for Crosshair, she hears footsteps coming and tells them they won’t have to look far. She knows that not only are they about to be found by troopers in general, but that Crosshair specifically will be with them. I wonder if as Nala Se’s assistant she knew what the procedure would be to try and enhance Crosshair’s chip and turn him against them.

#the bad batch #Hunter bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #omega bad batch #aftermath #Hunter #tbb #analysis #Hunter analysis #some light ramblings #somelightramblings

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on 'Tribe'

When not turning his home into a giant light hazard for Jesus's Birthday or getting into yelling fights in the alley with Bobby Lee (another redneck neighbor who is a DIE HARD 'Bama fan) about SEC football, Doug's been randomly texting me things about the Jedi.

I'll update y'all on that soon enough. (Plo Koon = Sexy Shrimp Daddy?!)

Meanwhile, here is his review of his favorite episode of Season 2 of The Bad Batch...TRIBE, or as Doug calls it 'Chewbacca Junior and the Weed Business'.

Yes, a random fetch quest one in which Clone Force 99 helps out a random Wookiee kid. His favorite. Don't ask.

Need a Doug refresher? Check it out under Doug Talks Star Wars here.

TW: Doug Doug's as is his Doug-like wont. Hold onto your butts. A little calmer since Daddy Warcrimes is MIA in this one.

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

So we got Daddy Rambo and the gang making counterfeit licenses for underage drinkers or whatever. You gotta do what you gotta do, I guess, and Daddy Rambo will do a lot of things, but obtaining gainful employment ain’t one of them. 

Ryan-from-Accounting is smug as hell about his counterfeiting operation. You’re so smart, Ryan-from-Accounting, why don’t you go to law school and start practicing corporate licensing? At least you can get equity there, ya dingaling.

And Little Orphan Blondie runs away because she’s embarrassed to be seen around them. I get it, kid.

Woah, it’s Chewbacca Junior! Are the lizard and robot people trying to sell him to the circus or something? Oh, he’s a Jedi?! When did this happen, this is awesome! I loved Chewbacca! I love Wookiees! AWESOME!!!

And Little Orphan Blondie is protecting him, go Little Orphan Blondie, go! 

I hope they adopt Chewbacca Junior and get him a collar and a nice bed on the floor of the HMS Search Warrant. They need a pet. Little Orphan Blondie can brush him and put bows in his hair! Do you think he uses a litter box?

They’re taking him home, and look! Little Orphan Blondie is giving him her Lunchables. I’m proud of the Dad Batch, they’re teaching Little Orphan Blondie good morals. Oh, poor wee Chewbacca Junior, he has no family and when he talks it sounds like Jimmers when he’s treed a squirrel*.

But Ryan-from-Accounting can understand him! Ya know, I wonder if his helmet can translate Bitch and that’s how Ryan-from-Accounting talks to his Bitch Wife Laura. 

It would be awesome if they adopt Chewbacca Junior and he attacks people with his lightsaber. He’s like a pet version of an MR-15! Imagine the DAMAGE his furry ass would do on the battlefield! 

Ooh, they made it to Wookieeland! Ya know, it always reminded me of where Jenny and I used to camp in northern California. I wonder if there’s a brewery nearby? I bet Toaster Strudel needs to throw back, that man needs a beer and a restraining order from Daddy Rambo. 

Oh SHIT, looks like the bugs from Klendathu made their way down to Wookieeland. Somebody call the Starship Troopers! Oh, wait, they can talk to those things like Dougie Houser did? Woah. Neat. 

Looks like the Empire found the Wookiee weed farm and torched it. Poor Wookiees, they’re just trying to make an honest living growing herb. Leave ‘em alone!

Which planet makes meth, my money’s on Tatooine, it looks like New Mexico and that place is meth Disneyland, there was a whole TV show about it. 

(Above is...Tatooine?! - Dr Meat Muffin)

Oh man it’s Houma-BBQ-Bitch’s shitty brothers and they’re burning the whole weed operation to the ground. Guess they work for the DEA.

Kick their asses, Wookiees! Now they want Chewbacca Junior, but the Dad Batch is saying FUCK YOU! 

Go Dad Batch go! Fire ‘em up! Destroy the tanks! GO JULIO GO! It’s like Apocalypse Now with Bigfoot!

More Wookiees! And they’re riding giant monkey-cats! AWESOME. Man, I feel stoned just watching this episode. Why can't I stop giggling.

Granny Wookiee says come on in and have some weed! Oh, shit, are they doing ayahuasca? Toaster Strudel ain’t having it, but Julio’s down. Julio’s down for anything, he’s probably gonna stick around, use his pipe laying skills, and get some free ganga out of the deal. Man, we all need a Julio in our life. Love him. 

Oh, poor Chewbacca Junior can’t find a home. Come on, Granny Wookiee, just let him crash with you guys! He can clip weed on the side, he’s got that lightsaber, let ‘em have it. But first, let’s talk to the trees! Did they take mushrooms before this scene, Jesus Christ this really does take place in Humboldt County, doesn’t it.

Ah, nevermind, the gators that run the DEA are here. With Stormtroopers. Oh shit, are the gators wearing Wookiee pelts while fighting Wookiees? That’s some Silence of the Lambs shit right there.

Welp, time for fire fights, Smokey the Bear does not approve of this episode, especially as one of the lizard men chases Chewbacca Junior and Little Orphan Blondie into the woods with a flamethrower. 

Oh shit, there are the bugs! Shit, am I actually cheering on the bugs from Starship Troopers? What is going on here, I’m so confused. Whelp, they’re eating Houma-BBQ-Bitch’s brother, good for them.

Back to Granny Wookiee’s Pot Palace, where Toaster Strudel and Julio throw back her questionable moonshine and smile at each other. If they end up with Wookiee girlfriends, it will be weird, but I will be happy for them. 

And Little Orphan Blondie and Chewbacca Junior are talking to the trees, again. Just watching this episode makes me wanna go back to Electric Forest. Except I don’t think Oceana County has wookiees, but it does have crazy people in the woods I guess. 

*=Jimmers is Doug’s extremely handsome poodle mix dog. His full name is Jimmers Jimothy Jimerson III and they found him as a stray when he was eating trash behind a bowling alley in Nacogdoches. 

Where my Doug fans at? @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @merkitty49 @sued134 are the biggest, but let me know if ya wanna be tagged in the next installment!

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #gungi #tribe #wookiees #the bad batch season 2 #doug talks star wars #redneck doug #doug the neighbor #doug why #doug is amazing #doug loves wookiees! #“They remind me of every good dog I've ever had” #“What about every bad dog you've ever had?” #“They remind me of BITCH WIFE LAURA!” #Lord almighty Doug #clone force 99 #little orphan blondie #ryan-from-accounting #julio the pipe layer #daddy rambo #toaster strudel

[astralartefact]

NieR Reincarnation The People and the World Satellite Spoilers, Feelings and a lot of YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse

Please read this post imagining silent sobbing in the background...

First off, I liked what they did with 10H, just skipping a recap entirely and making her Mama's ally right from the outset while leaving the in-between after the story we already knew for the EX Story.

speaking of which, I loved that they gave that ex story a straightforward happy ending (also, the carnation for reincarnation is just... so cute) I was so afraid that it was going to end with Mama betraying her again, but she didn't q___q And it makes Mama calling her 'our special girl' before the chapter hit so much harder q___q I love you Mama q___q

(also, food for thought, her ex story's name 'copied floral silhouette'... silhouettes are black on white, so it implicates a copied black flower)

I was thinking what the fuck they were going to do with her RoD story in the distant future though... but alas, I only opened Twitter after doing all of that.

So let's talk about it, I didn't expect it to EoS in APRIL. WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S SO SOON!! And I wasn't even expecting them to do another Season or anything, the story is in a perfect place to stop, all I was expecting them to do was drag it out a little bit longer with a skeleton crew only releasing RoDs and Costumes for a year or so until they didn't feel like it anymore - but this soon??? I guess the next NieR game must be closer than I initially thought, why would they just end it, surely they could have kept up the servers for a few more months with how much money and time they've put into the character models and stuff...

I do hope a Offline Version is coming, mainly so I can finally unironically call it the best NieR game without the looming "But it's a Gacha" threating my credibility as a... I don't have credibility, why am I even worried about that

Needless to say, my dream of #AnoggForReincarnation is probably dead in the water... But we'll get to her, because I have thoughts.

Two Big things from the Chapter that I want to talk about:

No.1: It's revealed that Humanity had a plan to "return" (to Reincarnate, if you will) after their Extinction

No.2: The "Earth" we return to is just the Cage again, but whiter and snowier.

I have two theories for what the "Earth" we saw might have been:

a) It's a sort of Meta-Earth where every structure represents every possible parallel Earth in existence - like how we have a Drakengard Earth that's seperate from the Main NieR Earth that's seperate from Hina and Yuzuki's Earth.

b) They don't use Earth meaning planet, but Earth as the place where Humanity is - this is just where the Humans actually are right now, after all they don't just need a place to return to, they also need a place to return from as well.

A notable line here includes 10H confirming to Yuzuki that the Round Egg in the Background (ROUND EGG, ROUND EGG, ROUND EGG!) "must be" the Cage, but that it's "not supposed to be here."

You know another Round Egg that can move around to anywhere it feels like at will and also contains the entirety of Human Memories within it? Well of course, It's time for me to bring up the only thing I ever talk about, YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse!

I've brought up before that there are certain similarities Anogg displays with Noelle's Introductory Chapter and at the time I thought that Noelle's whole deal might be involved in the creation of the Pseudo-Seed from Y:DA. But now that her backstory is fully revealed I actually think it's the other way around.

We now know that Noelle is actually a Human Clone that was created from a human after Humanity disappeared - but that makes it impossible that the Y:DA Pseudo-Seed was based on her if we do consider it to be the same or even just a copy of the Cage, because as we now know the Cage is part of Humanity's plan to Return - which means it must have existed before experimentation on Noelle even started.

Basically I think that Noelle was created using the same technology that was used to create the Cage - a Seed of Destruction. Which - if she actually is one of the pre-established "Dragon Weapons" - is actually pretty likely, because we know Accord had her fingers in making those Weapons happen and we know thanks to countless cameos that the Cage is Accords whole thing - and Accord is really the first and probably only person we know who could even possibly provide a Seed to do that with in the first place.

So while I had thought before that what we see the Red Girls do and what we see Anogg do in Y:DA with and/or caused by the Pseudo-Seed was just from whatever the Red Girls did to it, I think it's now much more likely that that's just how the Cage functions that the Red Girls copied. What if the Cage doesn't just store them, what if it can also Recreate Humanity when the time is right? And they were going to set that in motion after YoRHa defeats the Machine Lifeforms - which just doesn't seem to happen?

Or maybe Humanity's plan was to shoot themselves into space and recreate their entire planet where ever they land, just like the Tower/Cannon the Red Girls create and the Dark Apocalypse they chime in on Norvrandt!

Whatever it turns out being, I think Humanity turned a Seed of Destruction into a literal Seed of Resurrection. And wouldn't that be poetic as fuck. long live optimism, humanity is good sometimes

#nier #nier reincarnation #yoko taro #drakengard #drakengard 3 #dod3 #yorha dark apocalypse

[deewithani]

Theory:

Clone Force 99, Omega, and Emerie Karr are the 6 Null ARCs embryos that "died" from Republic Commando.

Note: This post will be connected to another theory post I'm writing about Palpatine's failures in cloning.

Proof:

1. CF99 refused Order 66. Crosshair shot Lt. Nolan. Emerie helped release Crosshair. We don't even need to talk about Omega.

Null ARCs are well known to be independent thinkers and resistant to command.

From Wookipedia:

When the Kaminoans began cloning, they produced twelve prototypes, designated as Null-class Advanced Recon Commandos. Their extreme physiological modifications killed half of the prototypes during gestation. The "enhancements" to the Fett genome handicapped the survivors with erratic behavior and an inclination toward disobedience, making their loyalties unpredictable. Kal Skirata, a Mandalorian warrior who had been brought to Kamino to assist in the training of a special unit, concurred with the Kaminoans' rationale behind "modified" troopers; an "unaltered" Jango Fett was not the ideal infantry soldier. Disappointed with the unsatisfactory results of their wayward creations, the Kaminoans deemed 12 of the first 100 prototypes complete failures and intended to kill them

They're also very loyal to those who are loyal to them.

Other regular commandos followed Order 66.

2. In Republic Commando, the Kaminoan scientist Orun Wa created the Null ARCs. This is what he said about them:

Highly intelligent, deviant, disturbed—and uncommandable.

In Season 1, Episode 1, Tech says this when AZI says they're defective clones:

We're more deviant than defective.

3. The living Null ARCs numbers and the "dead" Null ARC embryos' numbers.

N-5 ("Prudii")

N-6 ("Kom'rk")

N-7 ("Mereel")

N-10 ("Jaing")

N-11 ("Ordo")

N-12 ("A'den")

Missing are Ns 1-4, and Ns 8 & 9.

Clone Force 99s designations are likely CT-9901-9904. We know that Crosshair is CT-9904. They are Ns 1-4, respectively.

Omega is N-9. She's the last experimental clone Nala Se took for her experimental unit.

That leaves Emerie Karr as N-8.

4. Omega is a defective clone, and it has nothing to do with her being an unaltered clone.

Nala Se also says she's a defective clone to Tarkin. She specifically tells him that five genetically defective clones are all that remain. This excludes Echo. He wasn't genetically defective. This also excludes Emerie Karr. She's with Dr. Hemlock by this point in time.

If Omega is one of the Null ARCs, she wasn't created unaltered. She was created with accelerated aging like all the others.

Her accelerated aging is broken. She's not older than the rest of CF99. She's the same age.

I suspect she started out aging rapidly, like 99. That was Omega's genetic defect. She remembers everyone else in the tubes but being outside of them herself.

Omega was an experiment too. Nala Se figured out how to turn off accelerated aging to keep her from aging too fast.

This also mirrors Republic Commando. The Kaminoans at one point knew how to slow aging. Kina Ha is proof of that. She was engineered for long hyperspace journeys, but those never came to pass. That particular trait wasn't really needed anymore after that and was abandoned.

Slowing down the aging of clones isn't a good idea for the Kaminoans financially, after all. You want your buyers to keep buying.

(I also find it interesting that both Nala Se and Ko Sai had hidden underwater research labs).

All of Ko Sai's research was destroyed by Ordo (to Ko Sai's knowledge, anyway. They kept a copy). Nala Se's research would have been destroyed with Kamino, except a living copy remains. Omega.

Omega only appears unaltered because her broken genetic defect was fixed.

Nala Se theoretically knows how to slow/stop aging, and Omega is a genetic template for that.

5. Probably the flimsiest proof. Delta Squad exists in canon.

It's not out of the question to believe that Omega Squad and the Null ARCs could be pulled into canon as well.

I'm personally interested to see if Bo-Katan gathers any Legends Mandalorian clans. If any Clan Skirata members show up that could help this theory.

#tbb speculation #star wars speculation #tbb theory #star wars theory #star wars #the bad batch #the mandalorian #tbb spoilers #mandalorian spoilers #republic commando #repcomm

[kimbureh]

TBB Season 2 Finale

I've already talked in another post at length about why I think TBB's core message is "Self-sacrifice is not the way", and I think we see this theme come to a beautiful conclusion in the season 2 finale.

-

Let's start at the end. Back on Ord Mantell, The Empire shows up to take Omega. Injured and desperate, Hunter orders Omega to flee. But Omega rejects Hunter's self-sacrifice and tries to rescue the team, and even more, she refuses Hemlock's offer for an exchange.

"I'm not going with you."

Omega's words right here are the core theme of TBB. She explicitly says, "I won't allow the self-sacrifice of my family, and I won't sacrifice myself either". This is revolutionary, literally: The Clone Rights Movement develops the same idea from a different angle.

On the other hand, during the attack on the Summit, Saw Gerrera posits that sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. But what greater good? The interference of Gerrera causes that neither his team nor the Batch get what they came for: Gerrera fails to blow up the Imperial admirals, the Batch fails to track Hemlock's ship. It's interesting that Gerrara still acts as an antagonist to the Batch despite technically being an ally. And indeed, the two groups do have some ideological overlap: Hunter may not agree with Gerrera on sacrifices, but there are two seasons to back up the fact that Hunter actually does utilize (self-)sacrifice as a tactic. He just doesn't admit it like Gerrara does. Hunter doesn't admit that he sacrificed Crosshair, that he continues to sacrifice the squad's interests for Omega's, that he sacrifices even himself on the altar of selflessness.

But then Tech falls. And for a weak moment on Ord Mantell, Hunter understands they cannot continue if they chip away at themselves and at each other like that. He wants to stop the sacrifices, leave everything behind (the soldier life! even his leadership role that is attached to it!) in order to hide on Pabu. He immediately regresses into self-sacrifical behavior once the Empire shows up to take Omega, but I am excited for him to finally take the crucial step and consider change, even if his plans are naive. Settling on Pabu wouldn't fix the problems they have, but Hunter is yet to learn how to live as as a self-directed person instead of a solider forced into a coercive system.

Season 2 sets up everything for Hunter to figure out life and change and himself, and luckily, Omega and Crosshair are already one step ahead of him. Thematically, meeting up with them again and reconciliating with them is a step that would cohesively end Hunter's arc of finally embracing change.

-

So this is it. That's all the meta I intended on writing on TBB, you can find all the other essays here. Have fun. I'm looking forward to your takes

#tbb meta #star wars the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb #tbb spoilers #sw tbb #sw tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch hunter #the clone wars #star wars #sw the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper hunter #crosshair tbb #hunter tbb #the bad batch crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #the bad batch season 2 #bad batch season 2 spoilers

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

A Fair Price To Pay

@febuwhump prompt: "Who did this to you" @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Tortured for Information

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Crosshair, Omega, Hemlock Post Season 2: Escape from Tantiss. If you've read my fic 'A Cosy Bed', you know what's in store for Crosshair. Enjoy. Word Count: ~9675 Read Here On AO3

Content Warning: Graphic Descriptions Of Violence/Injuries Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Crosshair is determined to get Omega out of Tantiss, even if their freedom comes at a price.

Along the way, she saves him too.

*now with added epilogue! check the reblogs!*

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

Hemlock walked slowly around the table, inspecting the restraints that his assistant tightened to hold the tall clone in place. Yes, CT-9904 was weakened from his long incarceration, but this time they weren’t taking any chances.

“I am truly impressed by your fortitude and ingenuity,” he said, in that soft-spoken tone that somehow imparted so much more fear than those leaders who raised their voices. “I thought it remarkable, but a fluke, that you escaped the first time and attempted to transmit a message to your… ‘brothers’… to warn them about – well. You know.

“But to defy me again, and hide the girl from me?”

He stopped at the head of the table, leaning into the periphery of Crosshair’s vision. Crosshair couldn’t turn his head – he was fastened too tightly to do more than twitch in defiance. He kept his gaze fixed determinedly on the ceiling, trying to refute the weakness in his body, the faint tremor that set up in his muscles in response to fatigue and fear.

“I would like you to tell me where she is.” A soft plea, but insistent. “This facility is a big place, and she may come to harm if she is unattended. So please, Crosshair. Could you tell me where Omega is?”

Hemlock’s request sounded so reasonable.

Crosshair blinked and said nothing. Bit the sides of his tongue to keep from talking. Stared at the ceiling. At the ceiling. Not at the vents. Lifting Omega up, hiding her in a vent. Hissing at her to stay silent, not to be found.

Stare at the ceiling, don’t answer.

Don’t answer.

Hemlock sighed. “It disappoints me that you are unwilling to co-operate.” He gestured to his assistant, and a needle bit into the skin of Crosshair’s neck. Don’t look. Don’t give them the satisfaction of looking.

“What can I do that might compel you to tell me the girl’s whereabouts? There is nothing I can offer you. You have proven, repeatedly, that you cannot be trusted to submit to incarceration without resistance.” A soft huff of laughter. “Perhaps I should be unsurprised. The Kaminoan reports always indicated that your batch of ‘enhanced’ clones were unreliable.”

A warm, numb feeling began to spread through Crosshair’s body. His mind worked sluggishly. What had they dosed him with? He wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t betray the kid. It was the least he could do. Try and protect her. It’s what Hunter would want.

Sensation dropped away. There was no table. No restraints. His body was cushioned on air.

Hemlock was still talking.

“If I cannot offer reward for co-operation, I must threaten punishment. Thus far, you have been remarkably resistant to our… usual methods of data extraction.”

Data extraction. Torture. Crosshair’s jaw worked. Was he trying to talk? He shouldn’t do that. Didn’t want to. That’s what they wanted. They wanted him to talk. Tell them about Omega, hiding in the vent. Waiting for him to come back.

That’s right. He’d promised her he would come back, once he’d found a way out. He’d better go find her.

Tried to move his legs, but they wouldn’t function. That was odd. He pictured rolling to his side, standing up, off the table. Staggering forwards. Wondered why his body wouldn’t obey.

“The sedative should have taken effect by now.”

Sedative. That would do it. The numbness.

Why would they sedate him?

Hemlock wore a small smile as he leaned directly into the path of Crosshair’s vision. He blinked, the doctor’s face swimming in and out of focus.

“What can I take from you?” Hemlock asked softly, almost to himself. “What do you treasure? What do you hold on to in the belief that it sets you apart from all the other multitudes of clones in the galaxy?”

A medical droid hovered into view. This wasn’t right. Crosshair was still conscious. If they had sedated him, consciousness should fade. Instead he was awake, thoughts wildly roaming and unable to take action as his mind had become uncoupled from his body.

Crosshair was just barely aware of a touch to his face – Hemlock, tracing a finger down the fine line of his tattooed eye socket.

“I think,” said the doctor with a humourless smile, “I shall take your sight.”

The droid unfolded its appendages, positioning the fine, sharp tools just above Crosshair’s right eye.

“Do tell me, Crosshair, if you want me to stop. We can desist at any time. I just need to know where you have hidden Omega.”

Crosshair didn’t know if he could make his mouth work anyway, in this drug-induced dream-haze. At least he wouldn’t be able to give the girl up by accident.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Hemlock’s voice was more distant now, the doctor retreating to give the medical droid space to work.

“The sedative has robbed you of motor function. It has not dulled your pain receptors.”

*

Crosshair had been conscious for surgery before, in the labs of Kamino; pain numbed but mind sharp, responding to each instruction to focus, read this, can you see that, whilst the surgeons grafted synthetic muscle to his enhanced eyes to give him unprecedented control over his superior eyesight. Back then he had been silent, answering only when spoken to, bitterly determined to see the ordeal through with iron willpower.

Now, mind numbed but pain sharp, Crosshair found his voice. Moreso than the pain, panic ate at his nerves; strapped down, unable to flee, the right side of his world going dim.

Even when tears choked him, he didn’t give up Omega.

The sedative was still leaden in his body when he was returned to his cell, laid into the barren cot with a tasteless meal placed on the floor beside.

Hemlock was a shadowed figure just beyond the doorway as the droid assistant retreated.

“If I do not find Omega by the end of the next day,” came the doctor’s soft, even voice, “I will return for your other eye. If you wish to disclose her whereabouts, you have only to alert the guards.”

The door shut with a clang, the finality of a tombstone settling into place. Crosshair tested his sluggish limbs. He could move in an uncoordinated way, like swimming through heavy atmosphere. He dragged himself to the edge of the cot, all but falling to the floor, right hand coming up to claw at his hollow eye socket. A sob welled up but he swallowed it, forcing silence to his lips instead. On the floor he curled, foetal, arms cradling and protecting his head, one remaining eye squeezed shut to block out the reality of his loss.

If he kept his eye shut, he could pretend that’s all it was. Just like having his eyes closed.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Perhaps he finally slept from exhaustion.

A scratching sound nearby permeated his consciousness, slowly dragging his mind back from the numb vortex of despair his thoughts circled. A sound not in his cell. A sound in the walls.

Carefully he rolled to his side, pushing up to sit cross-legged with his back to the noise. His right shoulder hunched high, defensive, shielding his broken face. With his left arm he reached across his body, pulling the food tray to him, then without turning shuffled backwards until he was leaned against the wall.

Once he was there he sagged against the supporting expanse of steel, drained even by that small amount of movement. Fatigue coursed through him with quivering intensity, invading his thoughts and muscles with equal ferocity, but he forced himself to gather the bread roll from the tray and slowly start picking it to pieces.

Once the roll was in shreds he tucked his hands behind the small of his back, posting the fragments of bread through the vent.

Omega’s fingertips brushed against his and he stilled, almost ready to weep at the contact. He tilted his head back against the cool steel, closing his eyes. Closing one eye, trying not to feel how his eyelid stretched in pain over the empty place his right eye used to be. He briefly squeezed her fingers in return.

“Eat up, kid,” he whispered, voice no more than an exhaled breath. “You’re going to need your strength.”

“Have you got something to eat too?”

Crosshair cracked open his left eye, peering uncertainly at the tray. “Yeah. There’s stew.”

“Can’t pass that through a grate,” came Omega’s voice with forced cheer, and tears stung his lids at the way she could find levity even in the darkest situations.

When he finished passing the bread he reached out and lifted the bowl to his lips, sipping at the stew. His hands shook so much that the ceramic bashed against his teeth, the vibration sending a fresh jolt of pain to his empty eye-socket, and he hissed in displeasure.

“Crosshair?” Omega’s voice was small and concerned. “You’re shaking. Are you okay?”

He took a breath. Summoned up some deep reserve of determination and stilled his quaking.

“I’m fine,” he said, and there was enough acid in his tone that he sounded almost like his old self. Then, “We’re getting out of here. Tonight.”

He heard a shuffling as she shifted her position within the walls. “What do I need to do, Crosshair? Tell me, and I’ll be ready.”

“Get back to the loose vent panel as the base switches over to night-cycle,” he said, trying to inject more confidence than he felt into his words. “I’ll meet you there.”

*

Tech had taught him all about their enhanced physiology. Had taught all of them, lecturing his brothers for hours on end to ensure they understood their enhancements so that they could best utilise them.

All clone troopers possessed an element of rapid healing, allowing them to shrug off injuries that would stall a nat-born, or recover more quickly from even more grievous wounds. And Experimental Unit 99 was enhanced even further than that, their growth and repair times even faster.

Crosshair wasn’t sure Hemlock knew that. Didn’t think he’d accounted for how quickly his body would break down the torture drugs which had been a feature of his long incarceration. He’d certainly never given them reason to suspect that he recovered faster than normal from the toxins they flooded his system with.

Too busy laying there in despair for them to think the drugs had worn off any quicker.

He would make use of that unintentional obfuscation now. They would expect him to still be staggered by the sedative.

All his short life, he’d been underestimated. Now, as before, he would turn it to his advantage.

“Guard.” He injected a tremulous note of feebleness into his voice. “Guard.”

An armoured solder appeared at the door of his cell. Not clone armour. The TK troopers.

“What do you want, prisoner?”

“Hemlock,” he stuttered. It wasn’t so hard to pretend, lances of pain stabbing through his head from behind his right orbit. “O…me…ga…”

A quick conference outside the door. The sound of retreating footsteps. The door opened, and the one remaining guard entered.

“On your feet,” came the command as he was grabbed roughly by his arm, “ready for the Doctor.”

Crosshair let himself be dragged upright, sagging his weight away from the TK soldier. Feigning weakness long enough for the man to off-balance to catch him.

One rapid, smooth move to sweep the knife from the sheath at the trooper’s belt. A single upward stroke of his arm, ending with the blade embedded under the rim of the helmet. A quiet gurgle and now it was the TK trooper’s turn to sag, Crosshair catching him and staggering under the weight.

He eased the dying man to the floor soundlessly, glancing at the door. Had he been too loud? Would someone investigate?

Hunter would know. Hunter would hear someone coming, sense them, long before they arrived.

Crosshair didn’t have Hunter. Only his own, un-enhanced senses, dulled by pain, and vision that swam in and out and faded disconcertingly where his peripheral sight used to be on the right.

He quashed the rising panic. With trembling hands he set to releasing the catches on the dead man’s armour, fasting it to his own body with the rote instinct of years performing the same actions, no matter how shell-shocked he felt. Knife at his belt. Pistol at one hip, blaster in hands.

Pulled on the helmet, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the close warmth of another man’s gear pressing around his injured face. Activated the HUD. Wished he knew how to compensate for his missing eye.

Wearily, he pulled himself to his feet. Both hands clutched the blaster, trying to still the tremors that ran through him. The armour felt unbearably heavy, and he wondered how he ever used to carry this weight, let alone move agile and evasive across battlefields.

He looked down at the youth whose lifeblood pooled darkly on the ground, eyes glassy and unseeing in death. There was nowhere to hide the body, and even a cursory glance would show it wasn’t Crosshair, so no point trying to disguise it in the small cot. He forced his body straight, falling into the memory of rigid protocol to step out of the cell, just another guard, another obedient soldier–

Two more guards, at the end of the corridor. Their visors trained on him as he walked slowly, so slowly, towards them. Too slow? No. Slow enough to be relaxed. Like a guard who thought nothing was wrong.

“The Doctor will be here shortly,” one of them told him.

Did they expect a response? His voice would give him away, knowing that his soft, sibilant tone would never pass for the voice of the young conscripted trooper. A slight incline of his head, acknowledging he had heard. Would it be enough?

The guards parted, and one keyed the door open for him.

Past the first hurdle. Now to find Omega.

*

The stolen helmet was oppressive, tight and humid. His breath was harsh in the close space and sweat beaded on skin which flushed hot and cold, clammy and uncomfortable. With each step the headgear rubbed against swollen right side of his face, bruising stretched tight over his angular cheekbones, and he was certain that someone would notice he didn’t walk with the confidence of a soldier who owned this armour.

Where had he spotted the loose vent; the one he had boosted Omega up to when stray chance had brought them together in an empty corridor the day before? His attention drifted and he pressed a hand to the helmet, trying to steady his pounding head. Perhaps the sedative wasn’t fully out of his system. Too late to worry now. There was no going back.

They would make it out today, or he would die. That’s all there was to it.

He stumbled, catching himself against the wall, letting the blaster in his right hand drop limply to his side. A wave of nausea coursed through him, the meagre meal he had consumed threatening to reappear. Desperate, he glanced around. Not alone. Two guards, escorting prisoners the opposite direction.

No choice. His stomach convulsed, vomit and bile burning up his throat and into his mouth. Unthinking, he dropped the blaster and wrenched the helmet off, lunch spewing forth as he collapsed to his hands and knees. Dimly he was aware of clamouring voices as he dry-heaved, clawing his fingers against the slick puddle of vomit inches from his face.

“That’s one of the prisoners!”

Still dazed, he felt himself picked up and slammed against the wall. What was left of his vision swam, agony lancing through his head at the impact, a hot poker of pain rocketing from the base of his skull to the aching emptiness of his right eye socket. A fist found his gut, robbing him of breath he had barely recovered, before some deep-seated need to survive burned through the numbness and he thought to fight back.

Another blow to the stomach and he doubled over. His hand groped for the pistol at his hip. Once he could have done this in a heartbeat – release the cover, draw the pistol, fire. Old training guided his muscles but new weakness hobbled him; one, two, three attempts to free the pistol.

Someone grabbed his throat, squeezing, dragging him upright. The guard. Fingers pressed into his windpipe, hard enough to bruise. Crosshair couldn’t swallow the mewl of fear as he writhed in the unforgiving grip.

Then the pistol was free, blast bolt ricocheting from the floor, and the sound of live fire was drowned by a ragged cheer from the chain of prisoners who surged towards where Crosshair struggled with the guards.

Crosshair shakily brought the pistol to bear, firing again, but the guard released his throat and knocked his hand aside. The shot went wide and Crosshair grunted as the guard tackled him, pinning him to the wall.

The second guard was readying his own blaster, backing away from the cluster of prisoners he had lost control of, trying to angle over his partner’s shoulder at Crosshair. Crosshair tilted his head back, gasping as another blow found his narrow ribs, tuning out the pain as he focused on the second guard.

He raised the pistol. His arm was shaking. Stars danced across his vision, going dark as his grip on consciousness faded.

Three shots. The third hit. The guard fell.

Noise swelled. The body was swarmed by his fellow prisoners before it hit the floor. Summoning a desperate reserve of strength, Crosshair shoved at his assailant. The guard stepped back for just a moment, then lunged.

Pain exploded in his face as the guard’s fist connected with his cheekbone. For a moment Crosshair sagged, the oblivion of unconsciousness pulling tantalisingly at his senses. But before he met that relief he was wrenched back to full awareness, a raw scream torn from his throat, as two fingers hooked into the bottom of his orbital socket and pulled.

Crosshair howled as he dropped to his knees, forced down by pressure which might have been the barest touch or might have been the weight of a neutron star; it didn’t matter, his body would do nothing but obey the grip inside his broken eye-socket. Somewhere within the excruciating blossom of pain, newly repaired skin from the surgical extraction tore.

Then the weight of his attacker was lifted from his body and still he howled, and the pistol was prised from his fingers and there were hands on his shoulders and someone was shaking him.

“He’s dead. He’s dead. Pull yourself together. You looked like you were going somewhere.”

Clawing at his face, blood pulsing lazily down his cheek, Crosshair gazed up in desperation. Prisoner’s garb. A familiar face. The hollow cheeks and shaved head of an underweight reg.

“Echo?” he groaned, reaching out with his left hand, fastening trembling fingers round the other’s arm.

A shake of the head. “Sorry, brother.” The reg was crouched in front of him, tearing strips from his sleeved tunic and wadding them up to press to Crosshair’s face. The sniper hissed and recoiled, the fresh damage to his eye socket settling into an intense, pulsing nexus of hurt.

“Is he alright?” asked another voice.

“Don’t think so.”

“I’m fine,” ground out Crosshair, pushing away at the ministering hands, staggering to his feet. He glanced around, searching, but one reg was holding out the pistol, and another had the stolen helmet.

His thoughts were sluggish, swirling in a disparate haze of pain and fatigue, but through it all one goal cut clearly.

“I have to go,” he muttered, gesturing for the pistol. It was placed in his palm, his arm sagging tiredly by his side. Then the reg holding the helmet stepped in front of him, reverently offering the protective headgear.

“Is there anything we can do?” one of them asked, and a murmur of assent rippled through the group.

Crosshair eased the helmet back on, panting shallowly through his mouth. Adrenaline demanded his body continue, even as his mind wanted to shut down.

“A distraction,” he muttered, voice distorted by the vocoder. What he wouldn’t give to have Wrecker and his explosions by his side.

A reassuring hand clasped his shoulder.

“Leave it to us.”

*

The loose vent. Crosshair came to a halt, pressing one hand to the side of his helmet, pretending to receive a com as another group of guards marched past. At the far end of the corridor a maintenance droid whirred away in silent industry.

He positioned himself opposite the vent, but had to turn his head to check both approaches were clear. The right side of his vision was a haze of red and black.

“Omega,” he hissed, low and urgent.

He saw the gleam of her eyes in the dark, checked the corridor once more. Then he stepped under the vent, lifting his arms up to her.

The girl pushed the vent from inside, sliding it out until it swung free on the one screw that held it. Then she reversed her position, shuffling out legs first and wriggling until her body dangled down the wall, holding on with the lip of the vent under her armpits.

“Drop,” he instructed, and she did. He reached out to catch her.

Almost missed.

One hand lodged securely under her armpit. The other was wide, and Omega squeaked in alarm as the uneven brake tilted her descent sidewards. Crosshair flung his other arm around her chest, pulling her tight and breaking her speed against his body, staggering as her weight hit him.

“Quiet,” he choked out as a fresh shockwave of pain lit up his nerves. He wasn’t sure if he spoke to her or to himself. The pressure inside his skull was so intense he felt sure it would fracture.

“Crosshair?” came her quiet voice, and the single word of his name was saturated with concern.

Crosshair lowered her the rest of the way to the floor, shuddering breath into his lungs. He looked up at the open vent. He’d meant to catch her and keep her aloft so she could replace it.

“We need to move,” he gasped, fingers closing vice-like round her shoulder as she turned to face him. He drew her to his left side “Stay close to me.”

A hum as the power cycled, and the lights of the corridor dimmed. The base was switched to night cycle. Distantly, the maintenance droid continued to rumble.

Crosshair fumbled to retrieve the blaster he had stowed to catch her. He didn’t mean to lean so much on her slim frame. Wasn’t certain he could walk without the support.

“Where are we going?” Omega asked, starting forwards with halting steps at the pressure of his hand. “What’s the escape plan?”

“Get to the hanger level,” said Crosshair, hoping that the vocoder would blur the exhaustion in his voice.  “We’ll find a shuttle.”

Omega’s small hand curled over his, squeezing. “There’s no way we can reach the hangers undetected,” she said hesitantly.

He didn’t know how to assuage her fear.

“Keep going,” he muttered, pushing her forwards.

*

Luck was on their side, at first.

Crosshair’s disguise held. The armour may have been an ill fit for his six-four frame, but it was the armour of a TK trooper, and nobody expected TK troopers to be an identical height the way clones were. Omega, in her medical assistant’s garb, simply looked like she was being escorted between assignments by Crosshair’s firm grip.

Crosshair’s stamina didn’t hold. Every step was a supreme effort of willpower, calling his attention back from the soft edges of the void to try and stay upright. His earlier nausea had given way to a gnawing enervation, his thoughts spacing out in absent drifts as he struggled to keep a continuous thread of consciousness.

His footsteps became heavy, dragging along the floor, and he stumbled. He caught his weight against Omega’s frame, felt her arms go round his waist to support him. Across the hall, heads turned to look at them.

“Report, soldier,” barked a captain, peeling away from his unit. “What’s the matter?”

Crosshair dragged his head up, trying to train his attention on the man. An enemy. Someone planning to stop their escape.

Achingly, shakingly, he began to raise his arm with the blaster.

Omega stepped firmly in front of him, arms out defensively. “This soldier is sick,” she said, her voice firm and uncompromising. A blaster was pointed her way, but she didn’t waver. “I am taking this patient for treatment.”

“And who are you?” came the dispassionate question. “Identify yourself.”

“Um,” began Omega, and the hesitation was enough to end them. The captain tensed, raising his weapon aggressively.

“Identify yourself!”

Pain zeroed in on Crosshair’s mind, forcing out all higher thought. There was nothing left, nothing but the need to survive.

He raised his arm. Raked a ragged line of fire through the captain, through his squad. Wavered on his feet as the men yelled and dived, trying to evade his haphazard attack.

One of the blaster bolts had taken down the captain at least. The others in the squad scrambled for defensive positions, nursing wounds, readying weapons. A bolt of blaster fire zipped into the dark space where his peripheral vision once was.

“Crosshair!”

Omega was clinging to his arm, dragging him, stumbling, into cover. She grabbed the pistol from his holster, peeking out to spy their enemies.

Deep-trained discipline kicked in. Crosshair crouched over Omega, shielding her body with his own. Sighted down the weapon. Watched his first shots go wide. Compensated. Still missed.

His sight was shot. Depth perception gone. Injury and exhaustion worked on his body to rob his hands of their steadiness.

Everything that had made him what he was; taken from him.

Crashing to his knees, head lolling, the blaster fell limply from his hands. He clutched at the right side of the visor, the reality of his lost sight hitting home. Unbidden, a wail of despair was dragged from him; back arched, head thrown back, a desperate keening sound ripped from his lungs and garbled through the helmet’s vocoder into an electronic howl which gave pause to the firefight, TK soldiers looking about in confusion.

Omega emerged from their meagre cover and levelled the pistol. Her expression went hard, eyes glinting in determination.

Every shot found its mark. With every shot she claimed a life, until the corridor echoed with sudden stillness after the fight.

She didn’t wait. Immediately she grabbed Crosshair’s arm, looping it across her shoulders and dragging him to his feet.

“Come on,” she implored, half plea, half command. “We have to make it to the lift.”

Crosshair allowed himself to be pulled along, unable to resist. Something in the back of his mind needled him as he let her take his weight, barely able to hold himself upright.

“I’m… slowing you down,” he managed, trying feebly to shake free of her support.

“I’m not leaving here without you, Crosshair.”

Deep inside, her words were a balm to his injured soul. She wouldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t. He swallowed thickly against the pulsating agony in his head and tried to keep up.

*

They reached the lift, Omega keying in the code to summon the capsule that would carry them up to the hanger level. Crosshair slouched against the wall, breathing heavily. It was all he could do to stay upright.

When the doors parted Omega led him through, her small hands in his, before she took charge of that control panel too. Sinking to the floor, Crosshair tilted his head back and let his mind swim in and out of consciousness. Not far now. Not far.

“An alert has been triggered,” came Omega’s voice, soft and distraught. “Reporting our escape. They’ll be waiting for us when the lift stops.”

Crosshair knew he should care about that. He waved a hand dismissively.

“I can handle it.”

He sensed – didn’t see, his eye was closed – her crouch next to him.

“You’re injured, Crosshair.”

He shook his head, but she was gently releasing the seal from the helmet and lifting it from his head. He didn’t have the strength to stop her.

The helmet clattered to the floor as she gasped, hands going to her mouth in shock. Bitterly, Crosshair rolled his head to one side. Tried to hide the right side of his face from her.

“Crosshair.” Her voice choked on tears. “Who did this to you?”

He knew how it must look. His right eye socket, empty. Bruising purpling the hollow lids, stretched across bone. Fine-line tattoo lost under a crust of dried blood.

“It doesn’t matter,” he managed through gritted teeth. He peered at her out of the slit of his left eye, dark brown iris glinting in the low light. “Are you okay?”

She threw herself at his chest, arms wrapping round him in a tight embrace. He grunted at the contact but raised his left arm weakly, folding it over her back and stroking her hair.

“Hey now, kid,” he murmured, words faint. “Don’t get soft on me. We’ve still got a fight ahead of us.”

She stayed pressed against him, and he felt her warm tears on his collar. Didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.

*

The lift jolted to a halt, throwing them about and drawing a protesting hiss of pain from Crosshair. Omega raised her head, dashing her arm across her damp eyes, and looked about.

“There’s a new alert,” she said, scrambling up to inspect the panel. “It says there’s a fire! The lift has been deactivated. What do we do now?”

A thin-lipped, humourless smile pressed across Crosshair’s face. “A distraction,” he said aloud, wry satisfaction in his voice.

He dragged himself up, staggered as he lifted Omega onto his shoulder and directed her to open the emergency hatch in the ceiling. He barely managed to stay upright as she climbed up, and had sagged back to his knees when she reached down through the hatch for him.

“Come on, Crosshair.” Her voice was filled with stubborn determination. “You can do this.”

It was like she didn’t give him a choice. Her child’s voice cut through the throbbing pain in his head and he found himself obeying, passing up the blaster and helmet first, then letting her take hold of his hands and haul him up. He didn’t have the strength to assist. Even with her help he lay panting and spent on the roof of the lift, staring up at the dark chasm of the elevator shaft in unthinking exhaustion.

Omega shook his shoulder gently but insistently. “We have to keep going,” she said, easing him up to a sitting position. Wordlessly, she offered the helmet.

He glanced at her, bruised face meeting her gaze with a silent nod of thanks before he took the headgear and pulled it back on, hiding the extent of his injuries.

Omega slung the blaster over her back, leaving him with the pistol and the knife. Without discussion they moved to the service ladder, Omega clambering on first before turning to check Crosshair was following her.

“Stay with me,” she instructed, and he nodded.

Crosshair settled into the leaden rhythm of the climb, holding his body close to the ladder. He didn’t trust the strength of his grip so each step he laboriously hooked an elbow round the rungs, clinging on through dogged determination, resting and panting for breath with every excruciating foot he climbed.

The hot-cold nausea was back, setting up a tremble of weakness in his muscles. He choked, gagging, his stomach convulsing once more as he retched fruitlessly inside the helmet. His bottom foot slipped and he fell, catching himself on his right elbow, left hand linked around right wrist as he dangled helplessly against the rungs.

“Crosshair, keep climbing!” pleaded Omega, wrapping her own limbs around the ladder securely as she watched him, waiting for him to continue. He shook his head, arm slipping slowly through his own grip.

“Crosshair!”

Omega lunged as he lost his grip. Snagged the grapple from the TK trooper utility belt he wore, hauling it up even as he dropped. She gasped and snatched her hands back before her fingers could be trapped, the hooked grapple head clanging tightly to the ladder rungs. The ratchet on the cable jerked and caught, Crosshair grunting in pain as he swung into the wall at the end of the line.

“Keep climbing,” he said, voice ragged and broken, waving at her to continue.

Instead she climbed down to him, positioning herself under him, pulling him back to the ladder and helping him hook his arms and legs back around the rungs.

“We can do this,” came her voice, small but determined. “I’ve got you, Crosshair.”

This time he climbed ahead of her, and every time he sagged he felt Omega’s body curl close and protective against him. Her hands tightened on the rungs as she kept him pinned against the ladder, her cheek pressed against the small of his back. Despite the tremor in her own tiring muscles she held on, letting him catch his breath before urging him to continue.

They were still climbing when the power was restored, the ladder rumbling beneath them as the lift began to rise towards them. Crosshair glanced down, then quickly pulled Omega against him and released the ladder, letting them drop to the roof of the lift as it rushed up to meet them.

Omega’s blonde hair was tousled by the rushing wind of their ascent, and Crosshair swayed on his feet as he held her tightly to his body. He turned his face down to her, studied the hardened look on her face through the blurred edges of his vision. His arm squeezed tight around her shoulders, drawing on her strength as he embraced her to replenish his own flagging reserves.

The lift slowed, then stopped.

“Hanger level,” said Omega softly.

Below them, through the open hatch on the roof of the lift, came the hiss of a door seal releasing.

Crosshair dropped to one knee, slamming the hatch closed.

“Through the service tunnel,” he ordered, shoving Omega ahead of him. “It’ll take us above the hanger.”

Muffled voices. “The lift is empty.”

“What? They must be there. We had confirmation they were in this elevator.”

“Stay on guard! They have to be somewhere.”

They crawled into the narrow vent, Omega fitting easily, Crosshair struggling to drag his armoured shoulders along the tight channel. Plastoid scraped against durasteel with a grating whine, echoing along the duct, and he knew the sound would give their position away.

“Keep going,” he hissed, stopping to release scraps of armour and shed them inside the tunnel. It wouldn’t be much use now anyway. Once they reached the hanger, the opposition they faced would be so overwhelming that the armour wouldn’t save him from blaster-fire coming his way.

Pauldrons and pack discarded, he carried on after Omega. Blood drips spattered the inside of his visor. He didn’t have time to stop and wipe them clean. Had to keep moving. Almost out.

Almost out.

So tired.

Almost out.

Omega had stopped over a grille, pointing down into the hanger below.

“There’s TK troopers everywhere,” she whispered, shuffling to give him space to look.

He barely glanced at the scene. Trying to focus on the distant squads of soldiers set his head aching. Between the lost half of his vision and the smears inside his visor, so much was obscured.

“There,” he slurred, “that line of fighters.”

Omega scanned the hanger and saw the row of fighter ships, cockpits canopies open and ready to welcome their pilots.

“Do you know how to fly them?” she asked.

“Yes. Tech made me memorise-”

“-the specs of every ship,” she finished, a small smile curling her lips. “He did the same with me.”

Crosshair’s chest constricted at the memory of his brother. Choked back the wave of grief that threatened to drown him.

“We go along the line, sending them off on autopilot,” he said. “They won’t know which one to follow.”

“Which ship are we taking?”

“We need something with hyperspace capability.” He pointed to a slightly larger shuttle. “That one.”

They resumed their crawl along the duct, trying to ignore the shouts of the search parties below. Omega stopped when they reached a vent almost directly above the row of ships, threading one slim hand through the grating and starting to unscrew it from the outside.

Crosshair readied the grapple, then folded his body into an awkward seat and stole what rest he could whilst Omega worked. Everything was starting to sound very distant. His mind floated on a cushion of adrenaline, comfortably numb as his consciousness divorced itself from the pain wracking his body.

Then Omega was shaking him awake.

“Ready?” she asked. He blinked groggily inside the helmet, wincing at the way his bruised eyelids pulled on the tormented right side.

“Yeah,” he muttered unconvincingly, shifting into position.

Omega released the final screw and caught the grate before it dropped, lifting it back into the duct and stowing it behind her. She spidered herself over the hole, letting Crosshair and the grapple cable lower down first, before shimmying onto the cable herself.

Crosshair dropped quickly to the floor, knowing speed was as essential as silence to their descent going unnoticed. He misjudged his footing at the bottom, rolling his ankle with a muttered curse. Quickly detaching the cable from the utility belt, he hobbled to the protecting shadow of the nearest ship and watched in desperate anxiety as Omega shinned her way down the cable.

The girl dropped to the floor and scurried to his side, peering up at the fighter. “I should be able to activate the autopilot on a timer so they all start moving at once,” she told him.

“I’ll keep the patrols off your back,” he replied, taking the blaster from her and passing her the pistol instead.

Omega hesitated, about to turn away, then straightened to face him. “Crosshair,” she said with an uncertain waver. “We’re leaving together.”

Crosshair shook his head. “If you get the chance to go, take it. Tell Hunter-”

“Tell him yourself!” she snapped, voice rising angrily. “I’m not going without you!”

He clamped a hand across her mouth to quiet her, hissing a warning. She struggled and he released her, crouching down so he was on eye level with her.

“Omega,” he said, tiredness in his voice stilling her protest more effectively than his hand had. He blinked inside his helmet, trying to clear his vision, trying to fix the image of her determined, trusting face in his mind.

She pressed into him, arms folding round his half-armoured body in an embrace that spoke all of the words they didn’t have time to say. Crosshair cupped one hand to the back of her head, trying for a soothing hum that broke as his voice quavered in exhaustion.

Then he let go, shoving her gently towards the ships.

“Get on with it,” he hissed, and turned away to avoid the hurt in her eyes. The recrimination at the sacrifice they both knew he planned.

Because it would be worth it. His life for hers. Returning her to his brothers was all that mattered.

His head swam as he steadied the blaster in both hands.

Escape, or die trying.

Help the girl escape.

Die trying.

*

The floor wobbled and gave way beneath his feet as he crossed the hanger. He fell with it, crashing to the spongy surface with a thud. Blaster in his right hand. Left splayed against the ground, testing it. Firm. No give. Still, his head strobed in and out, attention bowing and flexing as the world pulsed indistinctly around him.

He might be hallucinating. He suspected that now.

Dragged himself to his knees. Levered back to his feet.

Raised the blaster. Tried to focus.

Everything seemed so fuzzy, so distant. The HUD told him how far to his target, but it must be reading wrong. Surely he was closer than that. Was he? Leaden legs carried him forwards without conscious thought. The inside of his visor was smeared with his own blood, further restricting what remained of his sight.

The helmet was stifling. His own breath was hot and harsh, the noise of it filling his ears. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t see.

Needed to concentrate. Needed to be able to see.

Uncertain, trembling, he reached up and pulled the helmet off. Winced as it dragged past the tender swelling of his face.

Or maybe he cried out. That would explain why the TK troops suddenly turned to his direction.

“There he is!”

“All units, respond.”

“I don’t see the girl.”

“Don’t let him escape!”

The helmet fell to the floor with a clang. This was better, he thought dully. He could breathe easier. See better, without the distracting smears of red across his vision.

Heavy footsteps. Lots of them. Armoured figures surrounding him, weapons ready.

“On your knees, prisoner!”

Crosshair turned his ruined face, surveyed his captors. Dragged in a wet breath through his open mouth.

A blow landed on his back, staggering him. He dropped to one knee, a broken whimper escaping him.

“Drop your weapon!”

Shakingly, he raised his hands. The blaster swung loosely from his right.

Heard someone step towards him. Couldn’t see them in the blind spot left by his missing eye.

The roar of an engine awakening. A chorus of engines. Shouts of surprise, and the TK troopers turned.

“Siths hells…”

Crosshair didn’t look. Couldn’t afford to look. Had to take advantage of Omega activating the line of fighter ships.

Spun the blaster, bringing it to bear. Finger closed around the trigger.

Opened fire.

Howls of pain, blaster bolts burning through armour. He didn’t know how many he hit. Didn’t know where he hit. Arms, legs, it didn’t matter. Gone was the ability to pinpoint each enemy, one shot, one kill. This would have to do, a haphazard spray of fire and a prayer that they would escape.

A fresh burst of adrenaline drove him to his feet, subsuming the emptiness that clawed at his willpower as he began to move towards the shuttle. He was lightheaded, stumbling as he staggered forwards with the blaster swinging between targets. Didn’t care if his shots hit. Couldn’t have aimed if he tried. It was enough that his continued fire forced the troopers to dodge out of his way, clearing a path for his exhausted body to follow.

His vision blacked out and in again. He realised he was on the floor, slumped on his front. When did he get there? He didn’t remember falling. Aligned his arms underneath his body. Pushed up. Struggled to get his legs to work.

“Order confirmed. Prioritise the girl. Stop her escaping!”

Crosshair raised his head. Blinked away the blurriness. Watched one of the gunships lift from the ground, turning slowly.

They were going to shoot Omega down.

Kept turning. Cannons pointed towards him.

Oh.

It was Omega.

Just in time he let his weight drop, belly pressing to the floor once more. The gunship’s cannons spoke, shells rocketing over his head and detonating against a stack of crates, starting a chain reaction as stored ammo and munitions were consumed in a rapid inferno. A blast of heat seared his back, baking even through the protective armour, and he slowly began to crawl forwards on his stomach to escape the blaze.

The ramp of the gunship lowered, exposing the troop transport hold within.

What was she doing? She was supposed to flee. Take the ship and go. Why was the ship hovering in place, entry ramp open invitingly?

Not leaving without you.

Her words constricted the broken fragments of his heart, filling him with purpose.

Not leaving without you.

He staggered to his feet, lurching forwards. One step. Then another. Another. Towards the gunship. Towards the light that spilled from the hold.

Towards freedom.

Close enough now to see her frightened face through the canopy, barely tall enough to see over the controls.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Another step. Towards Omega.

Towards salvation.

Her expression crumpled in panic. Mouth opened in a warning shout that didn’t reach his ears.

His smile faded to confusion.

Pain erupted in the exposed joint of his shoulder, protecting pauldron discarded to fit through the vent.

A blade twisted. A howl as bone sprung free of the socket.

Whirling, staggering, Crosshair faced down the soldier in his blind spot, snuck up where he could no longer see.

The knife, dripping with his blood.

The soldier lunged again, knife digging into the seam of his collar bone, so close to main arteries.

Pupil dilated with shock. Crosshair’s hand flew to his neck, pressing against the gout of blood threatening to spurt as the soldier dragged the knife back. Gripping the hilt, he kept it embedded in the wound.

The soldier struggled against Crosshair’s grip. Crosshair dropped the blaster. Tugged the knife from his belt.

So tired. Too tired to find the will to fight.

Dislocated shoulder refusing to bring the knife to bear.

He imagined a hand closing over his. Hunter’s grip, strong and sure.

Closed his one eye. Darkness, so comforting.

Drove the knife home.

A high voice, calling his name. “Crosshair!”

Hands pulled at his armour, tugging him forwards. He opened his eyes.

Omega, hauling him towards the ramp of the gunship.

Crosshair’s mind whipped back to wakefulness, the urgency of their situation crashing over him. He finally forced his legs to work, stumbling forwards under Omega’s guidance until they were both in the ship and she released him, running back to the cockpit.

Crosshair’s hands grasped for a gun he didn’t have, and he turned dazedly back to the hanger. TK troopers were recovering, emerging from cover and launching volleys of blaster-fire towards their ship. He dived to the side, a blast bolt grazing his hip and drawing another guttural cry of pain from him. His left arm wrapped across his body and he gripped his right elbow, holding his loosely swinging arm against his chest as he staggered after Omega.

“This isn’t the ship I pointed out,” he gasped in frustration, collapsing heavily against the wall.

Omega’s hands flew over the console, activating the ignition sequence. “I know,” she said. “This one had more defensive capabilities.”

“It has cannons!” he hissed. “That’s offensive!”

“Wrecker always says that offence is the best form of defence,” countered Omega. She gripped the steering column and the ship lurched forwards, towards the strip of night sky showing beyond the under-hang of the mountain. Already, fighter jets swarmed outside, anticipating their escape.

The front of his chest was growing warm and damp. The knife still embedded in his shoulder was slowing the blood loss but couldn’t stem it completely, and the stab wound that had dislocated his right shoulder flowed freely. The whole right side of his body was a mess, so much pain clouding his senses that it was hard to distinguish one injury from the next.

His breathing was shallow, rapid, skin cold and clammy. He released his grip on his own arm to steady himself against Omega’s pilot chair instead, leaning heavily against it as he tried to focus on the rushing darkness outside the cockpit.

“Can you do this?” he asked, the words laboured and indistinct. Omega glanced at him in worry, then fixed her gaze straight ahead.

“Don’t worry, Crosshair. I’ll get us out of here.”

The ship lurched as she dived, evading the fighters which raked fire towards their fleeing ship. Crosshair all but fell into the co-pilot’s seat, answering the impact with an agonised growl before forcing the restraints across his protesting body to strap in safely. He was no good to Omega passed out on the floor of the cockpit.

Omega snuck another look at him, her brown eyes pointedly following the red stain cascading down the stolen armour. Rivulets of blood trickled down his right hand, hanging limply at his side, dripping to the floor with alarming alacrity.

She gunned the engines, the ship roaring as it picked up speed. She shot through the waiting cloud of enemy ships, then killed the thrusters and hauled hard on the controls. The ship swung back round in a tight reversal, and now that the fighters were clustered in front of them she opened fire, front lasers tearing into the delicate fighters and sending them, flaming, into death spirals.

Crosshair grunted, the sound little more than a breath. “The Tech turn,” he whispered, a smile ghosting across his lips.

Omega gave a shaky laugh. “He says it’s not called that,” she told him, angling the ship up and sending them shooting towards the edge of the atmosphere.

“He’s the only one of us who could pull it off.” Crosshair’s voice faded in and out, eyes closed. His right hand twitched, fingers convulsing, as though he would reach out to her. “I guess he taught you well.”

“Stay with me, Crosshair.” Omega’s voice cut through the tiredness of his mind, calling him back from the edge of consciousness. She sounded like she was crying. “We’re nearly there.”

That’s right. Once they made the hyperspace jump they’d be safe.

“There’ll be a blockade,” he managed. Opened his eye. Watched her punching co-ordinates into the hyperspace drive.

Dragged his left arm from his lap. Wrapped his hand feebly round the co-pilot’s controls.

“You can’t do that yet. We’ll burn up if you ignite the hyperdrive now.”

Omega grit her teeth, snuffling against tears.

“We’ll make the jump as soon as we break atmo.”

He closed his eyes, concentrated on his breathing. It seemed to be harder than he remembered. His chest, lungs, throat, didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

He trusted Omega.

Trusted she would get them out.

A sudden, high-pitched whine as the hyperdrive engine came up to speed.

The ship was rocked by vibrations as blaster fire from the blockade raked the shields.

A blinding white-blue light pierced his closed eyelid, painting his world in a haze of dark and light.

They made the jump to hyperspace.

*

Crosshair surfaced slowly from unconsciousness, groping about with his other senses without opening his eyes. The right side of his face still throbbed but it was a numb pulse now, pain deadened beyond layers of exhaustion and sedatives. Around him the ship was quiet, computers and engines humming idly. There was a strong smell of disinfectant.

He tried to command his left arm, found it would move. Lifted his hand to his face, pressing it over his left eye before cracking it open, breathing a gasp of relief as he saw his own palm. His sight. He still had his sight.

“Crosshair!”

His name was spoken low and urgently, but with undeniable enthusiasm. He dropped his hand and blinked the rest of the world into focus, a blonde-haired face swimming into view.

“What happened?” he croaked, wincing against the dryness in his throat.

Omega pressed a canteen to his lips and he drank greedily, the water slaking a thirst he hadn’t realised was so intense. Then she was helping him sit up, hands gentle on his aching body.

He realised he was still in the co-pilot’s chair, semi-reclined. Outside the starscape was still, pinpoints of light against the black curtain of space. They weren’t moving.

“What happened?” he repeated, and this time his voice was a little stronger.

The girl immediately set to checking his wounds. He realised most of his upper right body was swathed in bandages, and the cold of space hit him as he realised she had cut his clothes away to treat the wounds. He was covered by a thin blanket which had slid down as he sat upright, and he grabbed it now and pulled it anxiously up to cover his body.

“You passed out after we made the hyperspace jump,” she told him quietly, not looking at him as she worked. She adjusted the tension on the sling that held his right arm, then smoothed down the edge of a bandage that was peeling away on his shoulder. “Hypovolemic shock,” she added, as though it made a difference. “You shouldn’t try to stand just yet.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, lying against the light-headedness he still felt.

She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Sure.”

He let her continue her checks, until she came to his face. Her slim hands tried to rest on his cheeks but he batted them away, turning his face from her. Turning so that she was in the blind spot of his bandaged right-hand side.

“Please let me check your wounds, Crosshair,” she said in a small voice. She dropped one hand to his chest, resting it over his hand which trembled, knotted inside the blanket.

“I don’t want you to,” he said softly, trying not to sound sullen. He kept his gaze averted, sorrow etching his face.

“We need to-”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

She stopped, mouth set in an unhappy line.

“Please, Omega,” he said, and the uncharacteristic plea softened her expression. She nodded, going to sit back in the pilot’s chair.

“So where are we?” he asked after a moment, drawing her from her thoughts.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, a soft waver of worry in her voice. “I’ve sent a signal to the rest of the Batch. I’m hoping they’ll pick it up, but without Tech-”

“Echo will get the signal,” Crosshair interrupted her without thinking. “He’s good at things like that.”

A meek, watery smile wobbled onto her face. “Yeah. They’ll find us.”

Now Crosshair tilted his face to her, ignoring the uncomfortable pressure of his bruises as he returned her smile. It even crinkled at the corners of his left eye, a glint of his old fire and flint flashing in his gaze.

“That was some good flying,” he told her honestly. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, a shy grin coming to her face.

“It was pretty cool,” she agreed, a shaky laugh shuddering up through her small body. Then, “Thanks for getting me out, Crosshair.”

“You got yourself out, kid,” he said, a low admission of approval.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He touched his hand to his bandaged arm, his neck, his cheek.

“I wouldn’t be here without you either, so consider us even.”

They lapsed into silence. Crosshair reclined back into the co-pilot’s chair once more, letting the padded seat take the weight of his aching body. His head span and he closed his eye against nausea, hoping Omega wouldn’t notice his pallor.

He kept his eye closed as he listened to her shuffle, approximated that she was imitating his position. His thoughts abstracted, snatches of memories surfacing and then flitting away as he continued to hover between sleep and wakefulness.

Eventually the com beeped.

A familiar voice.

“Havoc Five, come in.”

Crosshair started, flinching awake with a cry as the movement strained his injuries. Omega was scrambling for the com, leaning over the console with a delighted gasp.

“Hunter!”

“Omega!” The relief in Hunter’s voice was tangible as a cheer set up from the background.

“Omega! Where are you?” That was Wrecker’s voice, booming with enthusiasm. Omega laughed giddily, sitting up and tapping at the controls.

“I don’t know where we are. I’m sending our co-ordinates now,” she said, quickly relaying the data.

“Received,” came Echo’s confirmation. “I’ve got your position, Omega. Hang tight, and we’ll rendezvous with you.”

“Omega.” It was Hunter again. “You said ‘we’. Did a group of you escape?”

Omega glanced at Crosshair. He was sitting up now, shaking his head slowly.

She reached out and covered the com. “They have to know,” she whispered imploringly.

Crosshair looked away. “I haven’t seen Hunter since-”

“I know.” She reached out and laid a hand gently over his. Then she turned to the com again.

“Crosshair is with me.”

“CROSSHAIR?” His name was echoed in triplicate.

“He’s injured, so he can’t talk right now,” she said quickly, saving him from the demands of conversation. “Hurry,” she added. “Please hurry.”

“We’re on our way, Omega,” said Hunter, and the com blinked off.

Crosshair sagged back, staring unseeingly out the window. The young girl stayed at the controls a moment more, before hopping down and coming over to his chair.

Before he could protest Omega had climbed up into his lap, tucking her head under his jaw, one small hand stroking the back of his neck soothingly.

He couldn’t summon the energy to fight her.

Found he didn’t want to.

“They’re going to be pleased to see you, Crosshair,” she whispered into his chest, fingers tracing repetitive lines on his skin. “Just like I was.”

Despite the way his right side throbbed, he relaxed into the comfort of her weight on his left. He brought his uninjured arm up and closed it round her, pulling her tight against him as he rested his left cheek on her soft hair.

No, he didn’t want to see his brothers. No, he didn’t want her to check his wounds, face the reality of his loss.

But laying here like this, listening to her soft breathing, he found his doubts fading.

It didn’t seem so bad when he thought of it as a trade-off.

A price paid.

His eye. Her freedom.

His little sister.

Not leaving here without you.

It would take time for his injuries to heal. But she had already mended something in him that had been broken.

He would go through it a thousand times over if it kept her free.

He closed his eye, trying not to remember the darkness at the side of his vision.

A price paid.

A fair price.

This time, as he drifted just above the threshold of sleep, he was at peace.

*check the reblogs for the epilogue!*

#the bad batch #tbb fanfic #the bad batch season 3 #tbb s3 #season 3 predictions #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #crosshair and omega #omega and crosshair #hemlock #royce hemlock #tantiss #mount tantiss #escape from mount tantiss #febuwhump #febuwhumpday15 #“who did this to you” #badthingshappenbingo #tortured for information

[goodwhump-temp]

Trip Tucker Whump | Star Trek Enterprise

o7

SEASON 1 1x01-1x02 Broken Bow Pt. 1 & 2 - Hits the ceiling, bug jumpscare, knocked down, aggravated 1x04 Strange New World - Bug jumpscare, panic, hallucinating, aggravated, paranoid, infected, standoff, freaking out, stunned unconscious, 1x05 Unexpected - Coughing, high, overstimulated/confused, pregnant!, paranoid, stressed, crying 1x07 The Andorian Incident - Held hostage, held at fazerpoint, punched, very bruised 1x08 Breaking the Ice - Guilt 1x12 Silent Enemy - Sad, exhausted 1x13 Dear Doctor - Crying (watching a movie) 1x15 Shadows of P'Jem - Tackled, chokehold, kidnapped, restrained 1x16 Shuttlepod One - Stranded, denial/aggrevated, freezing, drunk, unconscious 1x17 Fusion - Talks about childhood/regret 1x19 Acquisition - Whipped multiple times, pain, wrestling 1x20 Oasis - Outnumbered/led into a trap 1x22 Vox Sola - Dragged, captured, restrained, panic, squeezed, pain, weak, slowly passing out, unconscious 1x24 Desert Crossing - Knocked down multiple times, bruised ribs, exhausted, collapses, delerious, heat exhaustion, respectfully threatened, weak, heat stroke, exhausted, coughing, knocked down 1x25 Two Days and Two Nights - Led into a trap, thrown to the ground, robbed, stunned unconscious, hangover, restrained 1x26 Shockwave - Shuttle caught in explosion, visible head trauma, unconscious, concussion, angry

SEASON 2 2x01 Shockwave Pt. 2 - Held at fazerpoint 2x04 Dead Stop - Reprimanded, thinks friend is dead 2x08 The Communicator - Forcefully knocked down, wind knocked out of him, arm MIA 2x09 Singularity - Unconscious, infected, obsessive, increasingly agitated 2x10 Vanishing Point - Guilt 2x11 Precious Cargo - Knocked unconscious, hit, crash landing, stranded, scratched, aggravated, thrown against a rock, suffocated 2x12 The Catwalk - Exposed to radiation 2x13 Dawn - Shuttle attacked, crash landing, stranded with an enemy, bruised, multiple altercations, knocked down multiple times, shot unconscious, restrained, kicked multiple times, sliced, bleeding, tackled, choked, blinded, punched multiple times, very bruised face, exhausted 2x14 Stigma - Rizzed up the Docs wife, guilt, uncomfy 2x16 Future Tense - Knocked down, unconscious 2x17 Canamar - Presumed dead, captured, bruised, electrocuted, annoyed, shot unconscious 2x18 The Crossing - Possessed multiple times, body held hostage, headbutted, bleeding, choking on CO2, weak, passes out 2x21 The Breach - Hanging, scrapes/bruises from the slide 2x22 Cogenitor - Reprimanded, insane guilt 2x25 Bounty - Shot unconscious 2x26 The Expanse - Sister dies, all the stages grief

SEASON THREE 3x01 The Xindi - Nightmare 3x02 Anomaly - Insomnia, burned wrist, pain 3x04 Rajiin - Tired, hit on the head, bleeding 3x07 The Shipment - Panic from bomb timer 3x08 Twilight - Dies 3x10 Similitude - Dies, caught in explosion, head trauma, comatose, cloned (o7), emotional goodbyes 3x13 Proving Ground - Talks about Sister 3x14 Strategem - Falls to the ground 3x15 Harbinger - Knocked unconscious, emotional pain 3x16 Doctors Orders - An angry hallucination 3x17 Hatchery - Part of a mutiny, "nerve damage," pushed, 3x18 Azati Prime - Worried x2, chaos in the engine room 3x19 Damage - Forced on, choked, shocked/knocked down 3x20 The Forgotten - Exhausted, nightmare, guilt, angry, grieving, meltdown/cries 3x21 E Squared - Worried, shot unconscious 3x22 The Council - Pulled a muscle 3x24 Zero Hour - Decaying, friend dies, in shock

SEASON FOUR 4x01 Storm Front Pt. 1 - Shot unconscious, captured, 4x02 Storm Front Pt. 2 - POW, badly bruised, weak, body slammed, duplicated: stunned unconscious, restrained 4x03 Home - Heartbroken 4x06 The Augments - Still heartbroken 4x10 Daedalus - Nervous 4x11 Observer Effect - Virus, coughing fit, collapse, pain, manhandled, exhausted, sedated, possessed, weak, dying, shallow breathing, dies 4x12 Babel One - Thrown, stranded 4x13 United - Thrown multiple times, exposed to large amounts of radiation, passes out, weak, jumps out of ship 4x14 The Aenar - Talks about near death experience, worried, guilt, heartbroken 4x15 Affliction - Transferring, daydreaming 4x16 Divergence - Insanely dangerous external ship transfer during warp 4x17 Bound - Agitated, punched multiple times, bruised 4x18 In a Mirror, Darkly Pt. 1 - Alternate reality; radiated scarred face, agitated, imprisoned, interrogated, electrocuted multiple times, mind melded 4x19 In a Mirror, Darkly Pt. 2 - Intimidated 4x20 Demons - Troubled, captured 4x21 Terra Prime - Betrayed, kicked multiple times, thrown, imprisoned, shot, weak, unconscious, protected, sling, sobbing 4x22 These Are The Voyages - Sacrifices himself, explosion, serious burns, difficulty breathing, fucking dies

#star trek #star trek whump #star trek enterprise #star trek enterprise whump #whump #emotional whump #whump list #whumplist #Connor Trinneer #Connor Trinneer whump #trip tucker #trip tucker whump

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 11: Intellect

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance.

COVER ART BY @zaana!! And this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D

Master List of Chapters

Author's Note: The nature scene in this chapter is actually where I started writing this entire story. :) I was in a gorgeous place on a hike one day, we were in the middle of season 2 of TBB being released, and I was totally smitten with Tech, so I imagined what it would be like to explore the setting with him there. As I'm re-reading it and editing it this time around, with a much fuller grasp of Tech, I had to shift a few things to make it more in-character and fitting. :) But you'll see a picture of the tree that inspired this whole writing endeavor too, LOL.

-=-=-=-=-

A few weeks passed, full of various adventures and punctuated with rest and refuels. Vel was slow to let her guard down, and understandably so. She was invited to various projects and repairs around the ship but was somehow not expected to contribute in any way just yet. There was a gentle ease into the new dynamic, and she noted Hunter's particular sensitivity toward her. Vel had made her intentions clear in their "real talk", as Wrecker had coined it, that she was willing to rejoin with the condition that she was not to be "piled off on the next farmer they saw." Hunter had accepted this with a grin and a "fair enough", and they were off to the races.

Vel tended to stay on the ship for the most part, venturing out only for necessities or for simple local explorations on hospitable and friendly stops. She did enjoy trying various foods and attempting to learn some phrases of strange new languages but primarily contented herself with her work around the ship. 

The team landed on a densely wooded planet, a beautiful, lush place teeming with life. Having time before "the show would begin", again as Wrecker had put it, Tech decided to explore the flora and fauna, and Vel opted to tag along. It had been a relatively quiet week, and everyone was in good spirits. She definitely had no other motive in seeking out time alone with him. Definitely. But, in all honesty, the beauty of the planet was inspiring, and she soon realized that she was being fully present, simply soaking up everything around her. Tech was completely engrossed in his visor and scanner at the same time, a stark contrast to Vel's uncharacteristically free enjoyment of the scene around them. She had worked hard to keep up a stoic exterior, to avoid being hurt again. But something about this kind of nature setting brought out her favorite side of herself, and she emanated peace and delight as they ventured into the forest.

Momentarily peering through the lines on his visor, Tech watched her explore and discover for a moment, fascinated by this soft, curious side of hers. She caught his glance and instead of any sort of challenge or walling-off, she held up a stem, revealing a giant, round leaf with a disproportionately tiny white flower right in the center. It could have been missed by the casual passerby.

"Would you look at this!" she called, twirling it between her fingers with childish intrigue.

"I am observing," he replied, regarding both her and the plant with interest.

She explored the textures of the trees, taking deep breaths of the crisp, fresh air, and bent down to inspect the tiniest patch of plants, amazed by the variety and intricacy in one small area. Tech continued looking at everything through his visor, with species information and characteristics filing past his eyes. He tapped into the datapad, categorizing and noting each item before filing it away.

Vel rose from her plant inspection, suddenly enamored with a large tree trunk with impossibly smooth bark. Large pieces had fallen off in chunks, revealing a watercolor texture of browns. It was dappled with random knots and bumps, and the grain of the bark swirled around each one as if it were a galaxy all on its own. There were specks of red and long streaks of dark brown, all in a perfect work of art. It was too much to keep it to herself.

"Tech! Look!" she said, beckoning him over from a curled fern he was scanning. "This tree is incredible."

His response was immediate: he tapped on the datapad and looked at the information feeding through his visor. "Indeed! It has a growth cycle of over—" "No, Tech," Vel said, with insistence, "Really look." She placed a gentle hand on his own, wrapped around the datapad, and gave him a meaningful glance before she reached up and, hesitating to check for any complaint, lifted his visor to reveal those large, inquisitive eyes. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, the intensity of her reaction surprising her. He blinked for a moment, brow furrowing in comprehension. "Ah," he brightened up suddenly, "I am neglecting the full experience of all of the senses by favoring only the visual." "If that's how you need to put it," Vel responded, trying to return her focus to the situation at hand. "But try it. This place is incredible. I haven't felt like this since I was a kid. It's absolutely filled with intricacies and details that you could spend forever discovering. So full of vibrant life and delights of all kinds... So much you'd miss with just a cursory glance." Tech observed her, head tilted once again, finding those words to be fitting for more than just the nature around them. These strange thoughts were foreign to him, but he observed them with curiosity, fitting them into the larger puzzle of his experience. They were even accompanied by certain sensations that he associated with particular emotions, and he was torn between taking a moment to cognitively investigate the feelings or simply continuing to experience them.

Vel reached a hand up to the tree trunk once again, marveling at its simultaneous texture and smoothness. She leaned in, mesmerized by the intricate filigree of fibers, while Tech stood beside her, unmoving but watching with interest.

It was too wonderful to keep to herself, and she felt compelled by some unseen force. "Can you take off your glove?" she asked, reaching for his hand. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her today, but the joy of the setting and the company was carrying her along on a cloud. And the fact that he allowed his hand to rest in hers was sending tingles through her like a wildfire. "Is it necessary?" he inquired. "Yes," she replied firmly, "It will be a decidedly beneficial endeavor." The shadow of a smile curved Tech's lips at her choice of words, and he looked down at his hand, considering the way her simple touch made him feel. Vel wanted to take his glove off for him, but for some reason it felt too bold, too intimate, so she sat there for a moment, frozen in indecision.

He took his hand back, tugging the fingertips of his gloves until the small armor plate and black fabric around it were pulled all the way off, and he tucked his glove in a pouch. Another pause held him back as he studied the tree, either trying to identify the optimal hand placement or convincing himself that this was indeed better than memorizing its characteristics.

"Can I touch your hand?" Vel whispered, trying to make it seem as natural as possible. But her insides were churning as he turned his brown eyes on her, reaching for the tree but hovering his hand above it, giving her a slow nod.

Vel placed his bare hand on the tree with hers on top of it, electricity surging through her limbs at the sensation. She splayed her fingers out, between his, and gently cupped his hand to move it up the tree a bit, roving from silky white patches to stubbly brown areas dotted with red flecks. But she wasn't focused on the tree at all, rather completely intoxicated by his warm hand, strong yet soft... the texture of his knuckles, the shape of his long fingers... The consistency of the tree's surface was quite enjoyable, Tech mused to himself. There was a delightful variety within just a small area, and he wondered if the tree could possibly be a hybrid between a few local species. He was distracted, however, by a sudden awareness of the intimacy of the situation. He wasn't usually one to allow or enjoy physical touch. But the typical stomach-churning sense that usually flared up in response was notably absent. He explored further, both the wood and the feeling, and moved of his own accord a bit, tracing the knots along the side with her palm still resting on the back of his hand. The tranquility was unmatched, and time seemed to slow down. Tech leaned in to look closer at the markings and growth patterns, eyes roving from one knot to the next. Vel felt his inner calm rising to match her own, standing still next to him, and took a moment to savor it all -- the touch of their hands, the crisp air, and the gentle breeze.

The peace was broken when she felt a twinge inside of her, something old and familiar yet still foreign somehow. Alarmed, she pulled her hand away, taking a step back and casting a glance around the small clearing. Tech noted her sudden shift and moved back as well, swiftly swapping his datapad for a blaster and watching her in silent question.

"That was weird," Vel tried to explain, "It felt like a presence, but not a full one... but that doesn't really make sense..." She fell silent as the sensation grew again, almost like a small shadow passing over her, but there was no indication of threat or impending danger. Her eyes flickered to and fro, searching for the source of this mystery. 

Tech caught her eye and nodded deftly toward a branch to their right. She followed his gaze to discover a small bird, no bigger than a Loth-Cat, perched above them. It observed them calmly, with more composure than any creature she had seen before. She felt inexplicably connected to it, which kindled her curiosity.

"I believe that is a convor," Tech said, tucking his blaster back into its holster and lowering his visor. "They are also called Trandoshan birds, native to the moon called Wasskah, but they are found in various planets throughout the galaxy. Apparently, they are known to have notably strong connections to the Force." 

Vel's eyes remained on the convor, and it regarded her evenly. She felt disproportionately encouraged by the fact that she had even sensed it in the first place. Her Force skills had been so abysmal that she had continually resolved to give up any hope of it entirely, yet somehow she kept coming back to try. 

She closed her eyes, turning her focus inward, and reached down to that place deep within, a place of stillness and calm. It was so much easier to access here than all the busy places they had been, and she relished its presence. From there, she stretched her awareness outward, connecting with the living Force all around them. 

It was like seeing a dim outline of the world through closed eyes, as she felt Tech's presence beside her, the trees and plants, the insects and flowers. She felt the convor as well, a radiant little beam of light on the branch above. Its energy touched her own, and she sucked in a soft breath, marveling at the experience. 

Tech watched curiously, mystified at this strange ancient magic. He lifted his visor to better ascertain the situation and found himself unable to take his eyes from Vel's face. "Unremarkable", she had said, so many times, about virtually everything about herself. Yet in this moment, there could not have been a less accurate description. 

His gaze roved from her closed eyes, more serene than he had ever seen, up to her textured brown hair following it to where it was tied loosely at the nape of her neck. He noted her mouth, the corners of which were twitching upward in a gentle smile. The primly pointed twin peaks of her upper lip sat in stark contrast to the full curvature of her bottom lip, slightly parted in her intentional outward focus. 

This last observation created a churning sort of sensation in his midsection, and Tech placed a hand on his stomach. He couldn't bring himself to look away, though his mind continued to race with queries. He felt a warmth begin to accompany the tingles, and he swallowed more noisily than intended. 

Vel opened, her eyes, retreating from the blissful awareness of all things around them, and found herself looking into Tech's face, painted with an inscrutable expression. She smiled fully, feeling a compulsion to reach out and touch his cheek, but she had explored quite enough for one day, and felt awash with glowing contentment.

"Well," Tech said, licking his lips and adjusting his goggles before turning to head back toward the ship. "This has been most informative." 

Author's Note -- I wrote this before the Pabu episode aired, but now as I'm re-reading it, I see a similarity between Vel asking him to engage with the tree and Phee showing him the lights coming on at sunset. Heheh. Ah well.

Tag List: @merkitty49 @vimse @arctrooper69 @dystopicjumpsuit @starrylothcat @ghostperson69 @dreamie411 @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @sinfulsalutations @ughhhhfoff @coraex @amorfista @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @littlefeatherr @sunshinesdaydream @dangraccoon @thew0nderer2342

(If you're on my regular tag list, let me know if you want to be tagged in this; I didn't want to spam ya!)

Click here to join or leave the tag list. <3

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars fanfiction #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tech x oc #tech fanfic #tech fanfiction #slow burn romance #slow burn

[116t98]

Now that everyone who’s watching She-Hulk has been exposed to Tatiana Maslany, I’m going to push my “Why Everyone Should Watch Orphan Black” agenda:

Tatiana’s performance is incredible

Each of Tatiana’s characters are so distinguishable from each other, you can easily tell them apart, even when they pretend to be each other

As in “Tatiana is playing clone A pretending to be clone B, but I can tell it’s actually A just playing a role” (oh this is a show about clones btw)

She’s that good

This doesn’t mean you should sleep on the rest of the cast tho bc they’re also incredible

Everyone’s acting is just so good 😚👌

You literally never know who to trust outside of our main characters and I love it

You really do feel suspicious and paranoid alongside the main characters

You’d think the acting is all that’s good about this show the way I’m talking about it, but it’s not

The mystery of the main plot is actually really intriguing and suspenseful

It’s got government/military conspiracy! Experimentation! Manipulation! Action/fight sequences!

I literally couldn’t stop binging it the first time I watched it bc I had to know what happens next

It also dives into the concept of nature vs nurture, as well as complex family dynamics, which is especially interesting in relation to Tatiana’s characters

The show can also get really chaotic

Did I mention that the show is funny? Bc it’s funny

It’s not a comedy, so don’t expect to die laughing or anything, but it has its humorous moments/characters that contrast the more serious tone of the rest of the narrative pretty well

Oh, and there’s canon queer characters and relationships. Did I forget to mention that?

And if you end up loving the show, your OB journey doesn’t have to end there bc there’s a sequel audio series called Orphan Black: The Next Chapter that Tatiana narrates (and some of the other actors from the show join her in season 2)

In conclusion: please do yourself a favor and watch Orphan Black; it’s really good and it deserves more love

#tatiana maslany #clone club #orphan black #she hulk #jennifer walters #mcu #marvel #mine #100 #200 #300 #400 #500

[photogirl894]

Crosshair + Names

I've had these thoughts floating around in my mind since last week because of one big moment that happened in the very first episode and I finally just wanted to share them.

**Spoilers below the cut if you haven't seen the first 3 episodes of TBB season 3**

When it comes to using someone's name, that usually means you have some level of respect for the person or, depending on your relationship with them or the kind of person you are, it can portray how close you are with said person.

Now, let's look at this in the case of Crosshair and the Bad Batch.

There are only 2 names he uses frequently:

Hunter and Wrecker.

Not to say that he doesn't respect Tech or Echo, but I just get the feeling he's not as close to them as he is to the other two. We never hear him refer to either of them by name throughout both Clone Wars and Bad Batch.

He clearly does have a closer bond with Wrecker, given how much Wrecker liked to tease him in Clone Wars and the friendly competition they had. Crosshair was even seen teasing him back in that same CW episode, hinting Wrecker will never top him! A lot of us know friendly teasing is a form of love or showing someone that you care. You feel comfortable enough to have fun and be funny and involve them. We see this with both of these two, especially with Wrecker hitting Crosshair in the face with Lula 🤣

Then we get to Hunter. Crosshair addresses Hunter by name frequently throughout the show and I honestly feel he's always had an immense respect for him. At one point, it seemed to go both ways with Hunter hyping up Crosshair more than the others in their first CW episode. Even after Order 66 and Crosshair questioning everything Hunter did, he still would call him by name. Even when he believed his brother had abandoned him, that level of respect never went away. He knew what his leader was capable of and what he could do. I honestly think that's also why he's the most hostile to Hunter through everything in season 1. I think Crosshair was closest to Hunter and his "betrayal" hurt Crosshair more than anything else. That's why there's so much animosity and tension between them because they once the closest of brothers and when bonds like that are broken, then their whole worlds come shattering down.

We even got almost a bonus with Mayday, who, as we all know, helped bring about a major shift in Crosshair’s character development. Mayday was the first stranger to ask for Crosshair's name whereas everyone else addressed him by his number. Then Crosshair didn't even hesitate to call him by name. He never called him "reg" or "Commander" or anything else, which proved to me the amount of respect Crosshair had for him and man, did that pay off in the end as it was what helped him turn against the Empire.

That then leads me to this...

Omega.

Throughout all of the Bad Batch, he referred to Omega as just "a child", "the kid" and "the girl", never once referring to her by name. This always indicated to me that he didn't care much about her; he saw her as a nuisance and possibly, his replacement. And he certainly made known his disdain for her with remarks like, "She's calling the shots, now?" and "This is what happens you let a kid call the shots". Even though this didn't stop him from saving her life on Kamino at the end of season 1, it was still clear he didn't think much of her or respect her enough to call her anything but a kid.

Jump to the beginning of season 3 where they're both on Tantiss, time has passed and we see Omega is visiting him most likely on a frequent basis. He tries talking her out of breaking him out along with herself and to just forget him.

"Complete the mission".

She refuses because she will not give up on him and we've seen that strong resilience from her countless times, which Crosshair is not used to. Not after multiple people in the Empire have been talking down to him like he's nothing and calling him "expendable" for who knows how long.

Then...the moment I've been waiting years for that made me cry and the reason behind this post...

CROSSHAIR FINALLY CALLS OMEGA BY NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME!!

This is such a huge step for Crosshair as he's seemingly coming to accept Omega for who she is and has finally developed a newfound respect for her. Which he also shows profoundly in the third episode of season 3 when he lets her take charge and follows her lead ultimately to their escape from Tantiss.

This is why I'm a firm believer that Crosshair shows his respect and admiration for those around him by how he addresses them. Like I said earlier, not to say that he doesn't respect Tech or Echo; I certainly think he does, but he just isn't as close to them and his relationships with them are different than his relationships with Wrecker and Hunter. He's playful and defensive with Wrecker and he admires Hunter...and now he's forged a new bond with Omega that I can't wait to see develop more in season 3 🥰

I hope all of this made sense and sorry if it was kind of all over the place and maybe a bit repetitive 😅 Just something I wanted to share!

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch crosshair #bad batch season 3 #bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers