#he was not just a commando but the LEADER of his squad do you know how hard that is for a clone 😭

[toska-writes]

Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. ��I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

#star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars #the clone boys #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #the delta squad #delta squad x reader #delta squad #republic commando #clone commando boss #clone commando fixer #clone commando sev #clone commando scorch #x platonic!reader #padawan reader #reader insert

[nerdiqueen]

hang on I have to rant

if you're not already aware, the five-man band is a literary device used to classify teams of 5 characters. it's what I call an external trope, meaning that you fit the trope to the characters, they don't innately have it.

a:tla has a pretty solid one, and it's well known enough, so I'm gonna use it to show you what I mean

it is comprised of:

the Leader, who directs the group and is usually the main character (aang)

the Lancer, who serves as character foil to the Leader and is often a bad-guy-turned-good or rogue element (zuko)

the Big Guy, who solves physical problems for the team and is frequently a goofball (toph)

the Smart Guy, who solves technical/logistical problems for the team and typically serves as an "idea guy" (sokka)

and the Heart, who solves emotional problems for the team- if there's only one girl, she's probably the Heart (katara)

there are three star wars groups I want to look at: delta squad, domino squad, and clone force 99.

first is domino squad, as they fit this trope the easiest.

fives is the Leader, the most strategizing one in the group

droidbait is the Lancer, far less cautious and more prone to injury than the others (the foil to fives' effectiveness)

hevy is the Big Guy, serving the oh-so-common "big gun demolitions expert" variant

echo is the Smart Guy, in the "guys, come on, stick to the PLAN" variant

cutup is the Heart, lightening the mood with jokes (hence the name)

the first to die is droidbait, leaving echo to serve as fives' foil, which allows us to see that fives is probably the most prototypical clone of the bunch. then hevy sacrifices himself, and cutup gets eaten, leaving only fives and echo until the Citadel arc which I haven't yet seen.

then we have delta squad. the thing about delta squad is that there are four of them, and while the four-man band is a thing, they make this perfect incomplete five-man band that I think is really really tasty.

boss (player character) is the Leader, guiding the team

sev is the Lancer, playing the "snarky rogue" archetype

scorch is the Big Guy, again the "big gun demolitions" variant- but with the added flavor of being very by-the-book (which we see the consequences of when he aligns with not only the empire but doctor hemlock himself in tbb)

fixer is the Smart Guy, tech expert

notice anything?

there's no Heart.

and that works. these are clone commandos- meant to be the most effective troops the republic has. they almost never interact socially outside of their squad, and when they do it's kept pretty professional.

we see that again in clone force 99, or as they call themselves, the bad batch

hunter is the Leader, his enhanced senses leaving him the most generalist of the batch (and also he's technically their sergeant)

crosshair is the Lancer, a "silent, ruthless efficiency" type

wrecker is the Big Guy, "big gun demolitions" variant yet again (I told you it was common) in the goofball flavor

tech is the Smart Guy, btw he's really well done and it never feels like he just "knows because he's smart" you can always tell how he figures things out

again, there's no Heart. but wait.

in the Bad Batch arc in clone wars, they pick up another member- echo. we don't see much of echo's interaction with the batch in that arc, but when we come back, echo is solidly in a sort of almost-but-not-quite Heart role. and then.

omega shows up in the "sixth ranger" role, there to shake up the group dynamic. throughout season one, we see omega slowly take over echo's role as Heart- and as this happens, it becomes clear that that was the role he was playing, as he talks hunter through how to best take care of omega. but omega, tagalong kid as she is, is much, much more suited to the Heart role than echo, and she takes his place- which allows echo to run off and have his own adventures with rex throughout seasons two and three, WHICH WORKS because echo is a regular clone who joined the batch later in life and thus isn't quite the same as the others, but omega is a deviant clone just like them!

#tbb #nerdipost #original post #star wars #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #sw #sw tbb #clone force 99 #star wars the clone wars #domino squad #delta squad #tbb star wars #star wars republic commando #republic commando #swrc #swtbb #swtcw #sw the bad batch #sw tcw #the clone wars #literary analysis #5-man band

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! I'm new on Tumblr so sorry if I trapass any line asking this.😅

Recently I read an immagine about our Batchers and their numbers and I noticed that they're a squad no? But normal clone squads are composed by 5 clones not 4.

And then I realised that 99 is the number of the clone force. What if the missing clone from the Bad Batch was in fact clone 99? And something happened in his gene modification and he turned out like that.

(I know it's long but I need a lot of word to express myself. Also English isn't my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes. Love your work btw☺️)

Hi there! Welcome ~

So, as far as I understand, Commando squads, such as the batch, are generally made up of four men.

For example, Delta Squad. Which is made up of Boss, Fixer, Scorch, and Sev.

The Batch follows a similar makes with Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair. With the same specialties.

Hunter/Boss being the squad leader. Tech/Fixer being the tech expert. Wrecker/Scorch being explosive ordinances expert. Crosshair/Sev being snipers.

Regular squads, such as Domino Squad, are set up a bit differently, being made up of five parts rather than four. Why this is, I have no idea. I can hazard a guess, based off of what I remember if their personalities, that the squads would have the same basic make-up as delta, but with an additional "face" person. You know, the charming one who is naturally good at dealing with civilian.

Of course. I could just be pulling this out my ass. It's entirely possible that squads are always made up of four men and domino squad is just weird.

As for 99...if I remember correctly, his proper designation is Alpha-99, which would put him in the same area as Alpha-17. If I remember correctly there was a problem with the increased aging gene with 99 so he aged a lot faster than his brothers and the Kaminoans didn't bother to try and fix it.

Although, perhaps 99 was meant to be their trainer? Which would explain why they have designations CT-9901 to CT-9904.

But really, this is just me rambling at this point. Train of thought writing, ftw lol.

And no need to worry about the language thing! You probably speak English better than I do and I'm a native speaker!

#star wars #answered asks #vod'ika rambles

[palpipeen]

My blog is intended for audiences of 18+. MINORS DNI.

You do not have permission to use this piece(s) or design(s) in any way, shape or form. That means: tracing, roleplaying, reposting, redistributing, altering/removing my signature, etc. is strictly prohibited.

I've decided to just yeet all my original blorbos into the void, here u go~ This art is about...a year old now WOWEE.

INFO ABOUT EACH UNDER THE CUT

So names/pronouns for each, from left to right: Koryn Dunn (they/them), Sam (he/they) (no last name yet), and Mando Hubband (he/they) (no full name yet)

Koryn Dunn is a ship mechanic from a currently unnamed planet in the far Outer Rim (might as well be Wild Space) who ran from home when they were 16-17. Being a stowaway is never a smart idea - it's an even less smart idea when the ship you hitch a ride on belongs to a renowned Pirate Queen who's name strikes fear into the darkest crime rings/families. But said Queen took one look at Koryn and Galena Mooncaller knew that the life of 'honorable crime' she'd been leading had to come to an end soon. Unfortunately for both Galena and Koryn and their inner circle of friends/chosen family, that choice to leave behind a life of crime wasn't made soon enough, and many of them still bear the scars to this day. Koryn and Galena took on contracts as auxiliary mechanics in the GAR, and in canon Koryn is the designated auxiliary mechanic for Pit Squadron. They're fast friends with Riggs, the demo expert, and JB, the heavy gunner. Their terrible trio make it a point to add more gray hair to Tock's head every day. Time will tell if Koryn is going to make it out of this war alive! (Spoiler Alert: they do.) Next is Sam. Sam was being kept as collateral against the Dathomirian zabrak known as the Night Sisters - but eventually, his life wasn't worth their effort by the Sisters. So Galena was just sort of keeping the kid around until she found a safe enough space port to drop him off and wash her hands of the whole affair. Then came along Koryn. And the two were friends immediately. Sam is two years younger than Koryn, but quickly became the protective 'leader' of their duo. Galena couldn't bear to see these two split up, or left alone in the universe for said universe to pick them apart, so kept them around. Eventually, Sam would also suffer the consequences of Galena's life of crime catching up with her. He currently lives in complete isolation due to an illness that has very nearly made one of his hearts go necrotic, and threatens to do the same to the other. But he makes a life for himself by making cutting-edge prosthetics that can simulate a sense of touch that's almost the same as the real thing. He's been working on an arm for Koryn for the better part of four years now, and since Koryn can't catch diseases easily, they're usually the only one able to see him. The two like to make a game of being disgustingly flirtatious with each other to make people who don't know their dynamic uncomfortable. They're awful and Galena blames all of her gray hairs on the two. Unnamed Mando Hubband - is an unnamed Nautolan with a very foggy past. But what is known is that he was one of the Mandalorian bounty hunters chosen by Jango Fett to help train the clone army. Specifically suberfuge and spying - thus even his existence was kept very hush-hush by the Kaminoans. But before that, he had quite a few run-ins with Queen Mooncaller. Like, a lot of them. Enough that Galena has a lot of connections she keeps up with a network of Mandalorian bounty hunters - enough to potentially make a full clan. But those are just rumors, of course. There's also a rumor that Mando Hubband trained a squad of Republic Commandos who have an auxiliary mechanic and pilot who has a lot of stories about a certain Pirate Queen. (Yes, Galena and Mando Hubband pulled some strings and got Galena the job - purely because Mando Hubband was worried for his boys and only trusts Galena or himself to keep an eye on them.) Someday, Mando Hubband will have a name! Him and Galena are very much in love and go months, sometimes years not seeing each other - but when they do see each other, it's shocking to many that they have a good relationship. They bicker a lot.

Taglist: @seeking-kharis, @thefanficsideblog, @jabbas-lightsaber

Taglist Signup is here~ LINK

#My OCs #Koryn #Sam #Mando Hubband #Mando Hubband's markings are based off of an orca and Nembrotha kubaryana #which is a type of sea slug #My Art #Koofins Art #should I make an art tag for my masterlist I probably should huh #cw smoking

[animymind]

OC introduction: Commander Nyles || CC-6809

(Art by me, this is part of introducing and rewriting my oc's, my Jedi oc Aya Lite is here.)

Name/Number: Nyles/6809

Species: Human (Clone)

Look: Armor as shown, hair black with white streak, standard clone hair just slightly longer often, normally has a beard because he forgets to shave, blue eyes with a brown peck in the left eye

Position in the army: Republic Commando, Commander of the Special Force Unit 222nd

Mbti: originally ISFJ, gets INFJ-ish bc of me

History: Nyles grew up with ca. 200 brothers on a special facility in Kamino, opened to train and doing research on Clones with slight mutations. They barely had contact with other vods. As the oldest, Nyles got a leading position within the unit, and an older brother figure for his brothers. The older he got, the more he rebelled against his instructor, Zsy Bliant, who trained the unit unfairly and in morally questionable conditions. After a bomb attempt, he and six of his close brothers, later referred to as the "Alpha squad", got into decommission. Their later general Aya Lite (introduction here) bailed them out shortly after the clone wars started. She founded the Special Force Unit 222nd. Nyles became commander of that unit full of Commandos and later was promoted to Marshal Commander.

Personality: Nyles is a very able and loyal soldier, especially towards Aya, but he's judgemental and stubborn inside and usually doesn't like to listen to anyone he doesn't respect; and if he's very sure of something, even those who he trusts have a hard time convincing him otherwise. His position as leader followed him since his very early days, and even though he would never quit it and is a very responsible person, he often wishes for a quiet, normal life without any responsibility. He struggles a lot on the inside, but doesn't show it to his brothers, even though some of them notice nevertheless. He's very close with the brothers he grew up with. He's slow to anger but crossing his boundaries is not a smart move. He has problems with following orders sometimes, especially when he thinks his method is easier and better than the one he got ordered to do. Secretly, Nyles often feels lonely, but barely forms deep friendships outside of the 222nd out of fear of losing them again. It can be hard to analyse him, and he can seem unapproachable, but he tries hard to be open with those he trusts. Interpersonal conflicts aren't for him.

Sexuality: Demisexual. He's sweet when in love because he loves very intensely and gets clingy, but the poor boy won't get it if you (sexually) flirt with him and probably is blind towards the most obvious hints

Relationships outside the 222nd: Not a lot, but he keeps a close friendship with Commander Neyo and knows Cody and Fox well enough to consider them his friends.

Relationship to Aya: I once had the hc of an affair between the two but I've thrown that out. They are close friends. The main trait of their friendship is that they don't have to talk to each other to understand each other. Nyles is very considerate and keeps pressure off Aya, and Aya tries to do the same if able. Aya had a hard time gaining his trust because he was deeply hurt by Bliant, but after taking the time to really understand and listen to all his sorrow and noticing his insecurities, Nyles gave her his rare trust.

#star wars #sw #sw hc #sw clones #the clones #clonewars #clone trooper #clone #star wars the clone wars #clone oc #oc #star wars oc #sw oc #swtcw oc #swtcw au #sw tcw #tcw #tcw oc #tcw fanart #oc fanart #oc art #star wars art #republic commando #clone commando

[weyrwolfen]

Eidola: Chapter 12 - CT-441-9891 Frag

Rating: T

Characters: Gen, Clone Trooper OCs, Captain Rex, Ahsoka Tano, and other canon members of the 501st/332nd

Warnings: canon-typical violence; references to self-harm, injuries, and substance abuse; PTSD; it’s post-Order 66 and nobody is having a good time (but they’re all working on it)

Summary: The mission was never to bring down the Empire. Not really. The mission was to save every single one of their chipped brothers. But if doing do helped break the Empire’s stranglehold on the galaxy? Well, that was just a bonus.

“Mom and dad are fighting,” Lighter said in a mock-conspiratorial tone.

Frag stopped turning the makeshift spit over their cooking fire and craned to look back towards the dormant lava tubes which had become their base of operations. Sure enough, the Captain and Commander were back there, having what looked like a very heated argument. “What’s their problem?” he asked.

He wasn’t really expecting anybody to answer, until a long-suffering sigh drew his attention back to the group of brothers sitting around the firepit.

Lighter seemed to be as confused as Frag, but Echo and Tech were looking pointedly at their squad leader. Hunter was giving them both an annoyed glare.

Right, Hunter had been engineered to have better senses than the rest of them. So, he probably could hear whatever their commanding officers were on about. Frag put on his best tooka eyes and turned them on Hunter.

The unimpressed glower Frag got in return could have melted transparisteel. “You’re going to burn those again, kid,” Hunter said, pointing at the skinned and seasoned, lizard-adjacent things Frag was supposed to be babysitting for Eidan.

With a sigh, Frag started turning the spit again.

Maybe his piteous fishing for gossip had been doomed to failure, but Echo looked and sounded genuinely concerned when he prompted, “Hunter?”

Apparently that did the trick, because Hunter finally relented and said, “He doesn’t like that she’s planning on going into the temple without backup. And she’s pointing out that if it’s the kind of temple that pulls Force stunts, it’s very likely that none of us could follow her in, even if we tried.”

Yeah, that’d do it.

Jedi or not, natborn or not, the entirety of the 332nd had seemingly adopted the Commander as their collective little sister. Most of them would have liked to wrap her up in blankets and store her in a safe house, if they thought there was even a small chance she’d stay put.

Which of course she wouldn’t, because whether she claimed the title or not, she was about as Jedi as they came.

It was kind of funny, when viewed from a certain angle. Frag and his brothers had been raised, conditioned, to see the Jedi as the next best thing to gods. And yet, here they all were, worrying themselves ragged because they didn’t think their Jedi could wander around some dusty old ruins without getting herself killed.

On second thought, no, it wasn’t funny at all.

“He knows that he is going to lose the argument,” Tech said matter-of-factly, zapping the tangle of parts in his hands with a compact soldering iron. He’d been tinkering with the wiring of what looked to be a spare set of goggles for a while now.

The Bad Batch’s technical expert seemed to be completely oblivious to the sharp looks which had turned his way. “And how do you figure that?” Lighter finally asked.

“Because he asked me to make her this,” Tech said, holding up his half-completed project. “It will transmit live data on her location and vitals, as well as a visual feed I can use to generate a photogrammetric map of the temple’s interior, should we need to mount a rescue attempt.”

Frag was more familiar with the kind of electronics that went boom, but that sounded like the kind of stuff the commandoes’ fancier buckets could do. Neat.

“And if it transports her to a different point in space or even time?” Hunter asked dryly. At the blank stares that comment earned, he just tapped his ear. “I’m just relaying the potential complications she’s been laying out to Rex.”

Tech’s expression turned sour. “Spatial displacement is traceable with her existing comm tracker, but temporal displacement remains a highly theoretical area of research. I have no way to account for it at the present time,” he said, looking and sounding annoyed and almost embarrassed by his lack of actionable knowledge. On time travel, like that was anything anyone could seriously expect him to be able to handle.

These 99 brothers were something else.

They did have a point though. Frag really, really hoped the temple didn’t decide to get ‘highly theoretical’ on their Commander. That was just about the last thing they needed. Given the dour faces around the fire pit, he wasn’t the only one having similar thoughts.

Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Hunter seemed distracted and Lighter concerned. Echo was definitely keeping a discreet eye on their two, still-arguing COs, and Tech was once again fully absorbed with the electronics in his hands.

Frag traded hands on the jury-rigged spit when his arm started to get tired and kept going. His gloves were good for keeping him from getting burned, but they didn’t do a thing for preventing repetitive motion cramps. This was absolutely droids’ work. Maybe he could sweet talk Tech into making a little belt driven motor to turn the spit in the future. After he finished up his project for the Commander, of course.

“Hey, Frag!” Eidan called from the makeshift kitchen tent. When Frag glanced over at his brother, he was immediately asked, “Is that batch done?”

Frag stopped turning the lizard-things and gave them a critical once over. They looked… the expected shade of reddish-brown? Kind of crispy around the toes and the tips of the tails? Sort of like the last batch, minus the accidental charring?

“I think so?” he yelled back, not bothering to keep the question out of his tone.

“Then bring it here!” Eidan said before ducking back behind the packing tarps which had been strung up as minimal protection from wind and rain.

Frag stood up, grabbed the spit by the closest end, and lifted it out of the forked supports.

Echo rose with him, clearing an easier path for Frag to escape the fire circle without accidentally whacking anybody with the spit. “I’ll let them know the food’s basically done,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Captain Rex and Commander Tano.

He found Eiden stripped of gauntlets and vambraces, blacks rolled up to his elbows, piling up some chopped fungi into a pile on the stripped-bare inner surface of a repurposed stormtrooper cuirass. A mound of cooked leaves, green and purple and mushy-looking, already filled a similarly gutted skid plate. They’d have to get creative with how they’d been serving their food. The Jekai’s galley wasn’t exactly set up for preparing or doling out real food, it had really only contained a weird assortment of mismatched utensils and trays too small for anything other than single-serving field rations.

Frag pulled the lizards off of the spit and piled them up next to the others on a spare piece of shuttle paneling they’d coopted as a platter. Eidan had prepped enough for everybody to have one for themselves and several extras on top of that, just in case. They’d already figured out that Wrecker would easily eat three times the amount a regular trooper could pack away, and Lighter had shared the strongly worded message Kix had sent, basically ordering the Raiders’ medic to cram as much high-protein food into the Commander as possible.

“What else needs doing?” Frag asked once he’d balanced the last carcass precariously on the pile.

“Nothing really,” Eidan said, glancing down at his bare, food-smeared arms and shrugging. “Just comm everybody to let them know the food’s ready.”

“I think Echo’s already–” Frag started to say when the tarp behind him was pulled open once again.

“What’re you cooking?” the Commander asked brightly. “It smells great!”

She looked so cheerful. Any other day, Frag might have totally bought her act. Between Kix’s message, the argument he’d just witnessed her having with Captain Rex, and the couple of comments Hunter’s team had dropped about the situation back at the Imp base, Frag took a second, harder look.

She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, which were red-rimmed and shadowed. She looked tired. Tired and sad and very, very young.

It was easy to forget that sometimes. In terms of cycles lived, she was older than all of the clones, especially Frag, who at ten was the often-teased baby of his Raider team. She was, or had been, a Jedi, a wartime Commander, but none of that negated the fact that there were several planets in the Empire where she still wasn’t old enough to legally purchase an alcoholic drink.

Ah hells. Who was he kidding? He was just as bad as his 332nd brothers.

“Some kind of fluffy lizard,” Frag said, handing her a tray and two of the piping hot carcasses, fresh off the fire. He might not be able to bundle her away somewhere safe, but he could do this. “Dunno if the leaves and fungi will agree with you, but they’re ready too. Dig in.”

Frag hung around the food tent, helping Eidan serve up the evening meal as their brothers filed through, picking up trays and making semi-joking bets about whether the evening’s food would be a success or only edible in the strictest, most clinical sense of the term.

None of that seemed to be setting the newcomers’ minds at ease. Apparently nobody had read them in on the culinary situation on the island.

All of them, even Wrecker, eyed the food with a little trepidation. In the end, Captain Rex had just joined the food line without saying a word, and Tech had made an offhand comment about all clones sharing an engineered resistance to most foodborne pathogens. That seemed to be enough to convince the rest of Clone Force 99 to dig in, even if they didn’t seem particularly excited about it.

Frag wasn’t sure if he should be offended. He’d snuck a few tastes, and the evening’s dishes were all pretty good. Nothing like those scrawny waders from their first week on Wadj, which had been nasty.

Hunter just wrinkled his nose and stepped into line after the Captain. Echo took substantially smaller servings than anyone else, splitting a lizard with Tech, who himself made up the difference with a sizable serving of the leaf stuff. Wrecker piled enough food on his tray to more than balance out his brothers’ smaller shares and then some.

When the last of their brothers had been served, Eidan and Frag loaded up their own trays and exited the tent to join the others. Frag was more than a little surprised when Trip immediately caught his eye and waved Frag over to join him.

Frag settled down between Wisp and Ripple, feeling unaccountably nervous. Not that he didn’t get along with their team leader. He did. It was just, Trip was... Trip. Getting summoned by an officer always made Frag’s stomach drop, like he was about to get dressed down for something. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t done anything deserving of a reprimand, the immediate attack of nerves came anyway.

But Trip knew that about him – by this point, he knew all of their team’s quirks – so he didn’t leave Frag in suspense for long. “You might be going into the Temple in the morning,” he said, cutting immediately to the point.

Oh.

Wait, what?

“I thought the Commander didn’t want an escort?” Frag asked, glancing around the small circle of clones. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach worsened.

“She doesn’t,” Lighter replied, sharing a look with Trip. “Captain Rex talked her into some concessions. You’ll only go in if she runs into trouble.”

Well, that was wholly unexpected. “Why me?” he dared to ask.

Trip shrugged. “From what little we’ve seen of the inside of the temple, it’s a mess,” he admitted. “We’re expecting we’ll probably have to clear debris, assuming the interior hasn’t completely collapsed. In which case, it’ll be a short mission.”

So maybe some controlled demo work. It had been a while, but flash training wasn’t exactly something you forgot overnight. And bonus, he’d get to pull out some of his old toys and dust them off.

Assuming he didn’t get possessed by some ancient Jedi’s ghost or some other absurd Force garbage. What were the chances? “Any other recommended gear for reality-bending Force temples?” he asked, trying to bury his very legitimate concerns with dry humor.

Before Trip could say anything, Ripple answered, “Rations.” His tone was flat, and he kept his eyes on his own food, eating mechanically. “You never know.”

Four whole words out of Ripple, all strung together like that. Things were serious.

Frag felt kind of bad about cutting the column apart, but they didn’t really have any other options. Most of the floor-to-ceiling columns, decorated with carved figures and incomprehensible text, had somehow survived the eruption which had engulfed most of the building. They were oddly beautiful, and all the more impressive for their age, but this specific one fallen across the entrance of the only passage that seemed to lead further into the mountain. It had to go if they were going to explore further.

And Commander Tano was pretty insistent that she needed to explore further.

With a sort-of-Jedi on hand, shifting debris wasn’t really the problem, but this column was too big to easily maneuver without running into the other supports. Even Wrecker, with his obvious enthusiasm for blowing things up, had admitted that they shouldn’t worsen any of the alarming cracks which were already in the walls and ceiling. So Frag and his laser cutter had been tasked with carving a wide enough slice out of the column to reveal the door they could just make out behind it.

The row of figures under his hands seemed terribly unimpressed with him, but Frag was making an effort to cut along the empty band between the carvings and the next section of incomprehensible text. Whatever it was, it was too old to be in any current database, but Tech said that it looked similar enough to a few languages that he might be able to translate it eventually. Apparently he had co-opted the Marauder’s main computer to run a few analyses on photographs of the text on the building’s façade.

CT-436-6148 would have freaked out if he’d been here to see this. He would have freaked out over the whole temple really – he’d liked learning about the histories and cultures of other species – but he would have absolutely melted down over Frag destroying something this old.

But CT-436-6148 wasn’t here, and Frag didn’t know where he was or even if he was still alive. They’d been separated some time after their chips had activated, together in one disjointed memory and then not in the next. Frag tried to put his batchmate out of mind.

Instead Frag distracted himself by wondering who these Jedi had been. If they’d even been a Jedi. The Raiders had been calling it a Jedi temple, but was it? Really? It felt weird. Not bad weird, but too-peaceful-to-be-real weird. Like somebody really wanted them to let their guards down and rest, weird. And maybe that was okay. Maybe that was just the light side of the Force, or whatever, but maybe it was a smokescreen, concealing something dangerous.

Nobody had been dumb enough to go poking around without an actual Force-sensitive on hand to make sure it wasn’t a trap, but Commander Tano was here now, and she seemed to think it was okay. Or at least okay enough to explore. He’d overheard her telling the Captain she could hear something singing underground, so that was a little disconcerting.

Frag could see most of the rest of the team milling around the temporary command center. Tech was doing something to his holoprojector, which was projecting a model of the temple’s entrance hall. It flickered and shifted, leaving ghostly, half-formed models of the people moving around the room.

This end of the huge entrance hall was just barely bright enough to limit the utility of their night vision settings. It was kind of creepy, in all honesty. Every time the model updated, or someone walked in front of one of their yellow chemlights, or just turned their head and sent their helmet lights shining off in a new direction, the shadows moved too. It made the carved figures look like they were moving. Frag wasn’t a fan.

“I’m about to make the final cut. Are you ready down there?” he called down to Wrecker, not able to see the big clone around the curvature of the column without standing, but knowing he was there.

“Just finish up,” Wrecker yelled back, sounding more than a little impatient.

Frag scooted himself into position so his helmet light could illuminate the right spot, double checked the laser cutter’s depth setting, lined it up so the sensors reported he was angled just right, and activated the beam. Centimeter by centimeter, the last sliver of rock holding the section of column in place burned away. He was tense, waiting for the rock to crack, to shear away unpredictably, but the gray-white, crystalline rock didn’t seem too prone to doing that. It held up, right until the last second, when Frag’s laser sliced through the last sliver of stone and the entire section settled with a heavy, grinding thud.

Frag pulled his cutter away, keeping his hands well clear of the gap, and then noticed with a lurch that the huge section of column had started to roll.

But then Wrecker yelled, “Got it!” and sure enough, the column’s progress continued in starts and stops, as if he was finding handhold after handhold to roll it along. Tech and Hunter had assured him that Wrecker was plenty strong enough to deal with a section of column twice the planned size of this one, but Frag hadn’t been entirely convinced until that exact moment. He wondered what the Kaminoans had done to their brother to make that possible. Human bone could only handle so much force before it cracked under the strain, and that wasn’t even getting into the material limitations of the body’s other tissues. Maybe they’d slipped some non-human genes into Wrecker’s DNA? Grafted something synthetic into his tissues? Who even knew?

Probably Tech. Maybe Frag would ask later.

Frag stayed where he was, on top of the main section of the column, and watched the doorway slowly appear as Wrecker rolled the huge slice of stone out of the way. It was arched, framed in the same mysterious writing that covered the walls and ceiling of the rest of the temple, and only a little crushed by whatever had sent the huge column crashing into the wall.

“Here,” Commander Tano said, from next to the holoprojector. “Let me,” and the column abruptly rose with her lifted hands, rotated to the side, and drifted towards the distant wall.

Frag sat up, secured the laser cutter in his pack, and then started to pick his way down the side of the column, finding hand- and footholds on the line of carved figures. The relief was low enough that he couldn’t manage that for long – plastoid boots were great for keeping your feet from getting crushed, but kind of garbage for wriggling into shallow, tight spaces – so Frag finally just let go, slithering down the side of the column in a semi-controlled fall. He landed with an awkward little stumble, but still managed to stay on his feet. Not bad, given that he’d needed the Commander to hoist him up there in the first place.

Captain Rex and Echo were already checking out the doorway, helmet lights shining into the dark corridor, when Frag finished dusting himself off and making sure nothing had been dislodged from his utility belt in the fall.

The hallway didn’t look like much. Dark. Creepy, just like everything else in the temple. The feeling of unnatural peace seemed to flow out of the door.

“See anything interesting?” the Commander asked, apparently done securing the section of column.

“Not really,” the Captain replied, turning to look back at her with his visor angled a little down and to the side so he wouldn’t shine his lights directly in her eyes. It wasn’t an issue for the other troopers, their HUDs could adjust, but the Commander’s modified goggles didn’t have that feature. “Can you sense anything?”

She nodded, expression distant and eyes unfocused behind her tinted goggles. “It feels like Ilum,” she said, not that Frag had any idea what Ilum was.

Apparently Captain Rex did, because he just nodded. “Your call,” he said.

“I’m going in,” she said firmly.

And that pretty well settled it.

Frag dropped his pack off next to his blaster, against one of the intact columns, and joined the rest of the team. The map had already updated itself, showing the shifted piece of column and a little bit of the hallway beyond the doorway. There were even little wisps of vaguely person-shaped blurs, where everyone was standing.

Commander Tano exchanged a few words with Echo and Captain Rex, made sure her hood wasn’t obstructing the camera or lights Tech had affixed to her goggles, and started down the hallway.

The darkness seemed to swallow her up.

“The floor is angling down,” she said, sounding calm. “No cracks in the walls or anything, so far everything looks to be in good shape.”

Frag snuck a sideways peek at the direct feed from her camera on Tech’s datapad, but all he saw was an empty hallway with blank, stone walls and a low ceiling.

The Commander kept up a steady stream of chatter, talking about the lack of carvings on the walls, the thick coating of dust on the floor, the song of the Force. That was part of the deal the Captain had cut with her. As long as her vitals were normal and she kept in touch over the comms, their team would stay put in the entrance hall.

The projected map grew, even if it wasn’t terribly interesting so far. The long, straight corridor narrowed down considerably, but it was in surprisingly good condition. Given the damage to the entrance hall, Frag had kind of assumed that things would get dicier the further into the volcano they went. So had everybody else. That was, after all, the entire reason he’d been assigned to the team: to help deal with any debris or ceiling collapses they encountered.

The first grave they encountered was a surprise. Much to Tech’s obvious annoyance, everyone pressed in close to get a better look at his datapad. Each rectangular nook, carved at chest height into the wall, contained the dusty, half-crumbled remnants of what had clearly been humanoid skeletons. A spray of crystals seemed to grow out of each ruined ribcage, some even anchored directly to the brittle bones. They caught Commander Tano’s lights, flashing and casting odd shadows on the back wall of the alcoves.

“Those are kyber crystals,” Commander Tano breathed, bending close to get a better look.

“The things Jedi use to power their lightsabers?” Hunter asked after a moment’s silence.

“Yes,” the Commander said, sounding almost reverent. “But they’re more than that. It’s… hard to explain.” She moved on to the next grave, looking, but not touching the remains or their crystals. “They’re not exactly sentient, but they might as well be.”

That didn’t make any sense. How could something without a brain be almost sentient? Frag just filed that under ‘weird Jedi stuff’ and looked back at the map. There could be miles of tunnels down there, filled with dead Jedi.

Creepier and creepier. He was kind of relieved that it looked like he might not be needed anymore.

“I thought the Jedi cremated their dead,” Captain Rex said carefully, as if he was worried he might offend the Commander with a more direct question.

“We do,” she said, but her voice faltered and she amended, “We did. But traditions change, and I’m not sure these are actually Jedi. I don’t mean that they’re Sith either!” She rushed to clarify, apparently realizing how that statement was being taken by her backup squad. “I just meant, these graves are old. I don’t know how old, but kyber crystals take a long time to grow. They might pre-date the Jedi order, or they might be a separate group, which broke away from the rest of the Jedi. Nothing says they have to be Force-users at all. There have been lots of religious sects who worshipped the Force, even if they couldn’t really wield it. Monastic groups, just all sorts of other possible things.”

Frag caught himself thinking about CT-441-9898 again. He would have loved this.

Frag didn’t love this. Sentient crystals growing on dead, not-exactly-Jedi were not his idea of a good time. Not that he was going to admit to anybody how much his skin was crawling over the whole situation.

“I should keep going,” the Commander said. She sounded distracted, like she was listening to something else. Or someone else, because obviously the situation wasn’t creepy enough.

She found more graves as she went. The single row became two, then four, lining either side of the hallway from floor to ceiling. Some of the skeletons were clearly not human, even though Frag would have been hard pressed to identify every species, especially in the dim lights of the Commander’s video feed. Others had crumbled to dust and fragments which could only be identified as bone with a little creativity. There didn’t seem to be a link between the condition of the remains and the extent of the crystal growth. A few of the smallest clusters of kyber had grown in the most decayed nooks, while one grave had been spilling over with crystals, glittering from the walls, the ceiling, mounding up over a shroud-wrapped body, pieces of the woven fabric perfectly preserved and encased in kyber.

The hallway forked numerous times, but Commander Tano never hesitated, taking turns and ignoring corners with uncanny certainty. She did switch back on her own trail once, making a series of four left turns in rapid succession. Frag thought that was weird, but then Tech made an annoyed sound under his breath.

Echo leaned over, giving the model a critical eye. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

Tech indicated the location of her first turn. “The model is now registering a wall across that entranceway,” he said, and sure enough, there was a faint barrier where one hadn’t been before. “I cannot explain it.”

“Could it just be an error in the program?” Lighter asked.

Tech gave him a nasty look. “No,” he said sharply, despite the clear evidence projected in his model.

“You still with us, Commander?” the Captain asked over the open comms.

The video feed from her headset jerked, like the question had surprised her, but then she finally answered, “Yeah, still here.”

But then her video feed winked out.

Tech barely had time to announce the oddity before the Captain had grabbed the datapad and flipped it around to get a better look. Frag couldn’t see anything from the new angle, but the map started to glitch oddly too. Disconnected fragments of hallway sprung up in isolated patches, spread far enough apart to suggest she was moving incredibly quickly, even for a Jedi.

“Commander, report,” Captain Rex snapped, watching more, disjointed sections of map spring to life.

She didn’t answer.

Tech snatched his datapad back from the Captain and looked at it, scowling. “Something is intermittently blocking her signal,” he said, scowling down at the device. “Her heartrate and cortisol levels seem to be spiking.”

Frag knew where this was going, even before Captain Rex spoke.

“We’re going in. Fire everything up,” he finally said, already striding in the direction of the dark entrance. “Beacons, lights, cameras, everything.”

This seemed like a Force problem, and not exactly a shoot-it-with-blasters problem. But, Frag wasn’t about to argue with the Captain. He also wasn’t about to just abandon the Commander down there alone, so he stuffed down his reservations, punched the correct codes into the keypad on his vambrace, and gathered up his gear.

“Tech, we’re going to need directions,” the Captain said as everyone formed at the tunnel’s entrance.

“I cannot guarantee your armor won’t be affected the same way as the Commander’s,” Tech replied distractedly, wholly absorbed with whatever data were rolling across the screen of his datapad. “I will guide you as far as I am able, but you may need to rely on Hunter’s skillset, if your comms are compromised.”

“Understood,” the Captain said, sounding a whole lot more confident than Frag felt. “We’re not here to collect souvenirs,” he said, turning his attention to the rest of the team. “Don’t touch anything you don’t have to.”

As if Frag had been considering grave robbing a bunch of dead Jedi, even before the Captain’s pre-dawn briefing on the Force complications they might encounter if they ended up following the Commander into the temple. Frag didn’t care what the black-market value for kyber was, it wasn’t worth getting haunted over.

Captain Rex and Hunter took point. Frag and Lighter followed them, with Echo and Wrecker covering their backs. The Commander’s smaller, booted footprints were clearly visible in the thick layer of dust on the floor. The team set off at a controlled jog down the tunnel, following her trail. Wrecker complained that he was going to hit his head if the ceiling got any lower.

He had a point. The hallway was claustrophobic already, barely wide enough to let the clones move in two parallel lines, and Frag didn’t have Wrecker’s extra height and bulk to consider.

The graves were just as creepy as Frag had expected, not that they slowed down to inspect any of them too closely. Empty eye sockets watched them pass. Crystals caught their helmet lights, scattering multicolored flashes against the walls of each carved nook.

The hallway didn’t feel peaceful anymore. It felt watchful, expectant.

Tech kept up a periodic commentary on the Commander’s location, and sometimes the Captain asked him follow up questions. She had apparently slowed down, she was circling back on her own path, her vitals were still within ranges consistent with significant stress and exertion, but not injury.

Most everyone else was quiet. It was silly, but Frag got the impression that if he spoke, if he even breathed too loudly, he might wake something up. For long stretches, the only sound was their footfalls, soft as they could manage in full armor.

They’d just turned another corner when their comms crackled to life. “Everyone stop,” Tech said, tone sharp. “Go back, you should have taken the other fork.”

What fork? Frag and Lighter shared a look, confusion clear even with their buckets sealed, and then glanced behind them at an equally bewildered Echo and Wrecker.

“Tech, there wasn’t a fork,” Echo said, turning to shine his helmet lights behind him. “It was just a turn in the hallway.”

The silence wasn’t exactly heartening. Finally, Tech said, “Show me.”

Frag felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Captain Rex, who jerked his helmet a little to the side in an obvious request to let Hunter and him through. Frag shuffled closer to the wall to get out of their way, trying not to bump the closest skeletal occupant with his pack in the process. A glint in Frag’s peripheral vision caught his eye, and he turned his head to see what it was.

A half-crumbled skull with a spray of crystals growing out of its eye socket stared back at him.

Frag flinched, and then felt like an idiot for it. Sure, the light caught the crystals oddly, making them look almost alive, but that wasn’t any excuse. He really needed to get his helmet on straight.

“There’s no other hallway here, Tech,” the Captain repeated, shining his helmet lights over the graves in the offending section of wall.

“Rex, look at this,” Hunter said, crouching down and pointing at something on the floor.

Echo and Wrecker had shuffled closer to try to see what had caught Hunter’s attention, so Frag and Lighter were left to try to crane around them.

“What’s going on?” Lighter asked, apparently coming to the conclusion that trying to see around Wrecker was a losing proposition.

“Commander Tano’s footprints stop in front of that wall,” Echo replied without looking around. He sounded grim, but the words made no sense. It took a second for them to really register with Frag.

“What?” he asked, because surely he’d heard that wrong, but Echo didn’t repeat himself. He just rested his organic hand on the butt of his blaster, fingers clenching and unclenching around the grip.

“I really don’t like this,” Wrecker said under his breath, speaking for all of them.

“Tech, are you sure she went through here?” the Captain asked steadily, but there was an edge in his voice that sent Frag’s stomach twisting.

“Yes,” came the immediate reply, but it lacked Tech’s usual certainty. “But I will check my program again.”

“I don’t think it’s your program,” Hunter said, straightening from his half crouch. “It’s not just her tracks that end at this wall.”

Well, that couldn’t mean anything good. Hunter had to be referring to his other senses, but that was ridiculous. People didn’t just disappear through walls.

Except apparently, they did.

Right… Haunted Jedi catacombs.

Hunter cautiously pressed a hand against the floor separating two of the stacked graves, as if half-expecting it to dissolve in front of their eyes, but the stone was solid.

The Captain stepped up next to him, running his hands over the wall as well, obviously searching for anything other than rough-cut rock. “Frag, get over here,” he ordered. Frag jerked, surprised by the summons, but then hastened to comply, awkwardly shouldering his way past a very tense, uncharacteristically quiet Wrecker. “Can you cut through this wall?”

“Uh, yes, but…” Frag trailed off, really not wanting to question a superior officer, especially not this one. The wall was just stone; he’d come prepped to blast through even tougher materials. He just needed to bore a hole, insert one of the smaller charges from his pack, and boom. New door. But…

But dead Jedi, disappearing halls, sentient Force crystals… What if we wake something up?

The Captain gripped Frag’s shoulder, apparently understanding his silent reservations. “Start small, just something we can see through first. Then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

Frag nodded. He could do that.

“I’m guessing this is the interference Tech mentioned,” Captain Rex said, turning to look at each of them in turn. “Keep your eyes and ears open.” Then he motioned for Hunter and his team to follow him further down the hallway, obviously intent on continuing the conversation without the two Raiders. A moment later, their comm symbols winked out in Frag’s HUD as the open feed was shut down.

Frag kind of wondered what they were discussing, but then again, he probably didn’t want to know.

He tapped his gauntleted knuckles against the stone, working his way up and down the walls separating the neighboring columns of graves from the corner. It really did just feel like regular stone. He pulled out his laser cutter and started fiddling with its settings, increasing the diameter of the beam and dialing the depth of penetration way back. He figured he should try this in five centimeter increments, in case he cut through the wall and into the back of another grave or something.

Lighter was hovering at Frag’s shoulder, angled so he could watch the bend in the corridor not currently filled with their higher-ranking brothers. He wasn’t sure what the medic could actually do about shifting hallways and dead Jedi watching them with creepy, kyber eyes, but Frag felt better having someone watch his back all the same.

Frag eyeballed the center of the stretch of wall separating the graves and set the cutter parallel with the waist-height floors separating the alcoves, figuring that’d be the most structurally sound spot to cut. When the sensors read the correct angle, he activated the beam, burning a small hole into the rock.

Nothing happened.

Frag pulled out his backup flashlight and shone it into the fresh bore.

Yup, that was a small, round hole in a rock wall. And the Force hadn’t struck him dead for the transgression. So far, so good.

He dialed up the length of the beam and continued.

After a couple additional passes, his flashlight beam wasn’t strong enough to shine all the way to the bottom of the hole, but the cutter was still reading resistance every time he upped the depth. As best as he could tell, there wasn’t a hallway on the other side of this wall. As best as he could tell, there wasn’t another side to this wall, just a solid mass of Force-possessed volcano which had eaten their Commander.

Maybe it was going to eat them too.

Frag dropped his forehead forward to rest against the wall. When that didn’t do anything to alleviate the sick, twisting feeling that had set up shop in his gut, he pushed himself back with a frustrated snarl and set his cutter against the wall again.

“Force osik,” Lighter announced in between cuts, obviously trying to sound flippant, but failing miserably.

He was scared, too.

That made Frag feel both better and so, so much worse.

Lighter was a generation one, decanted around the same time as the Captain, so Frag wasn’t just being a total tubie about this situation.

On the other hand, Lighter was a generation one, a veteran of who even knew how many campaigns. He’d seen it all, done it all, and had the scars to prove it. Nobody could call him a coward with a straight face, so if he was scared, then maybe Frag should be terrified.

“That’s Mandalorian, right?” Frag asked, trying to distract himself.

Lighter nodded. “Mando’a, but yeah.”

Mando’a. Right.

Frag had been deployed early, when he was only eight cycles old. The Republic had been getting desperate near the end of the war, demanding soldiers at a rate the Kaminoan backlog of growing clones couldn’t support. He’d had maybe two weeks’ worth of advanced combat training with a human bounty-hunter named Gard before being sent off to Felucia, and then maybe two months before Order Sixty-Six had gone into effect. He’d barely earned himself a couple yellow stripes on his armor and picked out a name for himself before all of it had been taken away from him.

He’d heard that some of the higher-ranking, first gen brothers had learned directly from Jango Fett, and they’d picked up some Mando’a from him. After that, they’d been deployed of course, adding words and phrases, mostly insults and profanities, from the species and cultures they’d encountered. Then the next wave of clone troopers had been deployed, and the next. They’d all picked up new words and dropped old ones, adopting a seemingly random selection of slang from at least a half-dozen languages into their day-to-day conversations.

Frag could follow along, sort of, using context clues and repetition, but he’d barely been with the Raiders longer than he’d served in the entire war. It made him feel like a shiny still, despite the solid year he’d been on the front lines after his chip had activated, putting down local uprisings for the Empire. He’d been stuck with a mostly-natborn regiment, and none of them had cussed in anything other than Galactic Basic.

“That means excrement, right?” he asked Lighter, dialing up his cutter’s depth settings again.

Frag risked a glance when Lighter didn’t immediately answer. He couldn’t read the expression on the medic’s face, but he could guess what it was from the way his brother’s helmet was canted. “You’re seriously asking me to teach you to cuss, at the bottom of a Force-cursed Jedi crypt?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Frag replied, setting the cutter against the wall and adjusting the angle. “Kind of feeling like I don’t have the right words to describe our current situation.”

Lighter snorted at that. “I can’t argue with that. Yeah kid, osik means ‘excrement,’ but it doesn’t have to be literal.”

That made sense.

He was about to ask about ‘kark,’ which seemed to be one of the most grammatically confusing swears he had yet to hear, when the rest of the team’s open comm symbols flickered back to life in his HUD and the Captain asked, “Making any headway?”

“Not really, sir,” Frag said, letting his cutter fall to his side and turning around to face the rest of the approaching team. “Two point five meters in, and no end in sight.”

Captain Rex just nodded, like he’d been expecting that answer. Like that wasn’t completely insane. “We need to find out if any of the side passages loop back around to her trail. You two, stay here in case anything changes,” he said, obviously directing that last bit to Frag and Lighter. “The rest of us will scout up ahead.” He nodded towards the tunnel they’d started down, before Tech had stopped them.

Lighter cocked his head a little to the side. “Why not back the way he came?” he asked. “There were some side tunnels back there.”

Echo and Hunter shared an unreadable look behind the Captain’s back.

“The way’s blocked,” Wrecker said when nobody else seemed like they were going to answer. He sounded grim.

Wrecker never sounded grim.

“Like, a rock fall, or like…” Frag jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the out-of-place wall, not bothering to finish his question.

He really wanted it to be a rock fall. A rock fall he could handle, easy.

It wasn’t a rock fall. Quiet as the catacombs were, they would have heard something.

“Our tracks end in front of another wall,” Hunter said, confirming Frag’s suspicion.

Lighter said something under his breath that had the definite cadence of Mandalorian. Mando’a. Whatever. Frag couldn’t follow it, but it sounded rude, and angry, and resigned.

Frag just swallowed, not appreciating the way his stomach was twisting itself into knots at the news. “Okay,” he finally managed to say, sounding more than a little choked. “We’ll stay here.”

“Keep your comms open, we won’t be long,” the Captain said, but even though he sounded perfectly collected, something in his tone sent the skin down the back of Frag’s neck prickling.

Their brothers set off with the Captain in the lead and Wrecker last, trudging along like he was marching to his own execution. Frag couldn’t think of anything to say, everything that came to mind felt a little too close to a goodbye, and he refused to put that kind of thought out there for the cursed tombs and their doubly-cursed occupants to hear.

“First right,” Hunter reported a few seconds later, and then after a longer pause he continued, “Bypassing a left fork. Tech, are you getting this?”

Frag jerked when a loud burst of static assaulted his ears. Lighter did too, so it wasn’t just a glitch in Frag’s helmet. It must have gone out over all their comms. Tech’s designation had rolled up to the top of their group with the unexpected sound, but they couldn’t hear anything intelligible in the noise.

“Tech, say again?” Hunter demanded, as soon as the static stopped. “Te–”

Everyone except Lighter abruptly disappeared from Frag’s HUD.

The silence made the dark just that much more oppressive.

“Lighter, did your comms cut out too?” Frag asked, clinging to the hope that his bucket was just acting up.

Lighter glanced at him, visor unreadable, and then turned to look down the hallway where the others had disappeared. “Yeah, kid. They did,” he admitted.

If their comms had cut out, then the Captain and the others would notice too, right? They’d turn around and come back, regroup and decide what to do next.

Frag didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack if he’d tried. He just checked his chronometer – it read 10:14 – and watched the hallway for their returning team.

They didn’t appear.

He checked his chrono again, but it still read 10:14, which didn’t make sense. Sure, he was being a little impatient. Given the situation, he thought he’d earned the right to be, but it had really felt like longer than one minute.

His chrono flickered, rolling over to 10:15, but then immediately skipping ahead to 10:49.

Maybe there was something wrong with his helmet after all? Could there be something down here that was messing with their electronics? Some kind of radiation or radio signal? That would explain at least a little of the weirdness, not the walls appearing and disappearing, but the comms…

Except no. Hunter definitely would have sensed something like that.

“Lighter, is your chrono acting up?” he asked, and sure enough his voice cracked like a mid-puberty cadet. Humiliating.

“What do you mean?” Lighter asked, just as Frag’s chrono skipped again, this time falling back to 10:46. They were both silent for a moment, and then Lighter said, “Yours just did that too, right? Went backwards a few minutes?”

“It’s gotta be something electronic, right?” Frag asked, but all he could think about was Hunter’s dry recitation of the argument between the Captain and the Commander yesterday. Time. Sometimes Jedi temples could mess with time. Had they just jumped back in time a few minutes, or forward a full cycle? Or more?

Lighter didn’t answer. He just took a hesitant step in the direction the other four had disappeared.

Frag forced himself to stop thinking too hard about it, because the other option was going to end with him hyperventilating right there in the hallway. He leaned against the wall, instinctively seeking out a little extra support, but stumbled backwards when his pack didn’t meet the expected solid stone.

His involuntary shout of surprise sent Lighter whirling around, blaster ripped from its holster and ready to fire.

They both froze. Frag’s arms were still flung out to his side, seeking balance or at least a handhold to catch himself.

He was standing in the missing hallway. The wall, complete with his drill hole, had disappeared again.

“Okay,” he said, mouth running with nerves. “Okay,” he repeated, forcing himself to lower his arms and look around himself.

Lighter stepped forward, blaster still out and ready. His helmet light skimmed up and around the doorway.

Frag looked down and sucked in another surprised gasp. “Lighter, look here!”

The Commander’s small tread was there, but now there were others too. One unusually large set, even if the tread was familiar, just the standard pattern on the bottom of all their boots to give them better grip on unsteady footing. One other was oddly angular, with a different pattern, and there were a few more that were a perfect match for the prints Frag himself had just left, stumbling through the dust.

Frag wasn’t a great tracker, but he knew a few of the basics. He’d lay every credit he’d ever seen on these tracks belonging to Wrecker, Echo, Hunter, and the Captain.

Or something wanted him to think that?

Lighter stepped forward cautiously into the hallway, lights joining Frag’s on the floor and the tracks left there in the thick blanket of dust.

“Do we follow them?” Frag asked, falling back on training and experience and trust that an older brother would know what to do.

But Lighter seemed just as shaken as Frag. “I don’t know,” he admitted, voice strangled. “What if it’s a trap?”

This whole place was a trap. What kind of question was that?

“Look,” Frag said, half trying to psyche himself up and half trying to legitimately work through the problem at hand. “Look, even if those don’t belong to the Captain and the others, the Commander’s were definitely real. Hunter smelled her, or… or whatever it is he does. They were real.”

Were they? Was any of this?

“Yeah, okay,” Lighter said, taking another step forward and scanning the hallway like he was still expecting an ambush. “You might have a point.” He still looked back over his shoulder, hesitating.

“We could leave something, in case…” Frag trailed off, not wanting to give voice to the numerous reservations and fears which were vying for attention in the back of his head. “Just in case. A note or something.”

“Did you bring some karking stationary with you?” Lighter asked sarcastically, but Frag would take it, if it meant the medic kept sounding more like his usual self.

“We’ve got to have something we can use, between our two packs,” Frag insisted.

In fact, they had several things. Lighter wasn’t about to give up any of his bandages as a banner, but they managed to tear a strip out of Frag’s thin, thermal blanket and the medic burned a message into the fire-resistant material with his field cauterizer.

‘Hallway to Commander opened. Following her. L&F’

The letters were a little wobbly, and the arrow Lighter added as a crude set of directions was worse, but it was legible, which was all that really mattered. They left it at the junction where the two hallways came together. Frag weighted it down with one of his containers of two-part explosive putty, much good it had done him so far on this mission. If he ended up needing some later, he had more.

“Eat something,” Lighter repeated with just enough of a threat behind his words that Frag gritted his teeth, but did not argue. His stomach wasn’t interested in food in the slightest, but arguing about it wasn’t going to do any good.

“Fine,” he grumbled, reaching behind him and finding his way into the correct compartment of his pack by feel alone.

Their chronometers were still acting up, skipping around or slowing to a crawl for no obvious reason. Nevertheless, when the broken thing had rolled over noon, Lighter had started pestering Frag about eating and drinking something.

Medics.

Frag slung his blaster rifle over one shoulder, opened the ration bar, then popped his seals and pulled off his helmet to start eating. They didn’t stop walking though; he could see well enough in the light from Lighter’s bucket.

The skeletons in the graves were less visible without his HUD’s light adjustment settings. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. It definitely didn’t make him forget the oppressive feeling of being watched from those dark alcoves.

Frag didn’t have a good word to describe how the hallway smelled. Dry, like old flimsi, and stale, like a shuttle whose CO2 scrubbers were in desperate need of changing.

The ration bars tasted like dust and something worse. Decay. When he’d finally gagged half of it down with a few swigs of water from one of the canteens he’d packed, Frag was more than relieved to seal his helmet back up. He had a sneaking suspicion that the pervasive dust wasn’t just coming from the stone walls.

“Your turn,” Frag said, extending the other half of his ration bar in his brother’s direction.

Lighter was silent for a few seconds, and when he answered, it was only to say, “Later.”

Frag still didn’t argue, even if the refusal made him grit his teeth. He understood the need to stretch their supplies as far as they could. Neither one of them had any idea how long they were going to be down here. But it still felt like Lighter was treating him like a cadet. Between the two of them, having a healthy and functioning medic seemed like a much higher priority than whatever Frag was on this mission. Dead weight. The most useful thing he’d done so far was follow Ripple’s recommendations to pack extra rations, but so had everyone else. He was less than worthless down here, just one more mouth in need of their limited food and hydration, with nothing tangible to provide in return.

Frag shoved the half-eaten bar back into his pack and promised himself to refuse another bite until Lighter ate something too.

The footprints in front of them kept changing. Sometimes there were multiple sets, from way more than four pairs of boots. Other times, they only saw the commander’s smaller tracks. Her stride was really long, a sure sign that she had been running at this point, but towards what or away from whom, they couldn’t tell.

Frag was trying to ignore the graves on either side of him, but when he spotted a half-familiar crystal formation spilling out of one nook like a frozen waterfall, he couldn’t help glancing into it as they passed. There was a skull there, near-human, but sporting a crown of small horns. They looked similar to a Zabrak’s, but the count and spacing weren’t quite right. The first time Frag had seen it, he’d distracted himself by wondering if maybe the horns’ owner had been a hybrid of some sort.

The second time he’d seen it, he’d stumbled in surprise and sudden fear. The hallway they’d been following since leaving their message for the others was long and straight, and they hadn’t turned off of the path once. He’d bumped into Lighter – the two of them had started walking so closely they were constantly bumping shoulders anyway, as if both of them were worried the tunnels might throw a wall up between them if given the slightest chance – and had cracked a joke about his own clumsiness. It had fallen thoroughly flat, but Lighter hadn’t questioned him further.

This was the fourth time he’d seen that same, distinctive skull, toppled over in the same, staring position. Frag clenched his hands around his blaster rifle and walked past it.

He still hadn’t told Lighter about it. The medic was being overbearing enough as it was. No reason to stress him out even more.

Frag tried to even out his breathing, catching himself slipping closer to shallow, panicked panting if he didn’t make an effort to calm down.

Same thing with thinking about the impossibly repeating skull, or the impossibly disappearing and reappearing footprints, or the impossibly moving walls, or, or, or…

He couldn’t think about any of those things, not without cracking up completely, so he just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the next and hoped.

The press of the darkness and the pervasive feeling that the dead Jedi were watching him were really starting to get to Frag. He kept thinking he heard footsteps or voices, echoing oddly up and down the silent corridors, but he didn’t want to ask if Lighter was hearing them too. He wasn’t sure if a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ answer would be worse.

Apparently his brother could follow his thoughts just fine though, because only a few minutes later Lighter said, “Whatever you’re seeing or hearing, just ignore it.” He sounded tense and harsh and almost angry. “This place is trying to kark with us.”

Yeah, Frag definitely needed to work out the exact definition of that word. He could use some descriptive profanities just then. He choked down a laugh he was pretty certain would have come out sounding more than a little hysterical. “It’s doing a good job of it,” he admitted, hating how unsteady he sounded.

“Don’t let it.”

Easier said than done.

When Frag didn’t immediately answer, Lighter caught him by the spaulder and yanked him around. “We’re getting out of here,” he said, his voice a harsh grate. “We’re finding the others, and then we’re leaving. We’re going to be fine.” He almost sounded like he believed his own osik.

“You don’t know that,” Frag muttered under his breath, dropping his blaster to one side, and then repeated, louder, when Lighter just stared at him. “You don’t know that.” He was sick of Lighter treating him like a tubie, sick of feeling utterly powerless, sick of the temple or the dead Jedi or whatever was playing games with him. Sick of all of it, really.

Lighter shoved him back against the wall of the hallway. Frag’s pack hit the uneven graves with a clatter of jostled equipment and plastoid. It sounded like something dry and brittle had snapped under his weight, but Frag didn’t have much time to really think about that before Lighter was in his face, hand locked under the bell of his spaulder, arm pressed against his chest where a little pressure could send it up and against his less armored neck.

Frag instinctively grabbed Lighter’s wrist with one hand, halfway towards executing a twisting maneuver to break the medic’s grip, when he paused. This was his brother. His older brother, who outranked him in every way that mattered. Everything in his training was screaming at him to not fight, to listen, to obey.

“So what’s your plan then, kid?” Lighter said, and there was none of the usual affection in the way he drawled over that last word. “Gonna tuck tail and run? Leave your brothers and your Jedi down here to die?”

Frag saw red.

He had no idea how he managed it, and probably couldn’t repeat the maneuver in a moment of sober lucidity. But even though Frag was pressed flat against the wall, he somehow managed to kick a booted foot between Lighter’s legs, hook an ankle behind his brother’s foot, and send Lighter and himself both crashing to the floor. After that, the situation devolved into a tangle of knees and fists and elbows.

The words streaming out of his mouth were mingled denials and the most scathing, insulting combinations of half-understood terms he could imagine. He was pretty certain he wasn’t making sense, especially around the point he’d managed to tear off Lighter’s helmet while suggesting the medic do something anatomically inadvisable with an acklay.

He didn’t care.

He knew he was going to lose. He knew Lighter had more training, and more experience, and just more of everything than Frag had been given a chance to learn. He knew he was the weak link on this mission, but that didn’t mean he needed to be coddled or guilted or lied to in order to convince him to do what needed doing. He wasn’t planning on leaving anyone down here in this cursed tomb, not if he could help it at all, but he was going to leave a boot print across his brother’s face if it was the last thing he managed to do.

“Force, kid, calm the kark down,” Lighter said through gritted teeth. He had already ripped Frag’s helmet off and was holding one of his arms twisted up behind his back. With his other hand, he was struggling to pin Frag’s face down against the floor in an attempt to subdue him further. “I didn’t mean–”

Frag bit Lighter’s gloved fingers. Hard.

Lighter yelped, and Frag used his momentary distraction to twist out of his brother’s grip, getting just enough leverage to half stand and throw himself backwards in a move that should have slammed Lighter against the far wall, dislodging him further.

It didn’t work out quite like that.

They both went sprawling into a side passage that had not been there when the fight had started.

Lighter let go of Frag completely and staggered to his feet, looking around wildly at their new surroundings.

Frag picked up a smashed helmet light, neither knowing nor caring which one of them had lost it in the fight, and hurled it down the new hallway with a snarl of unfocused frustration and rage at whatever was toying with them.

The broken light hurtled out of sight before it hit the ground with a sharp crack, bounced, cracked against the floor again, and then collided with something softer.

Frag froze, fear dousing his irrational fury in an instant.

Whatever it was, whoever it was he had hit with that stupid, thoughtless stunt, moved.

Frag staggered back, instinctively putting himself between his brother and whatever he’d managed to wake up.

Something scraped against the stone floor, sounding like booted feet, and a pair of eyes reflected back the lights from their helmets, red-orange pinpricks.

Frag raised his blaster and was instantly answered with a rush of static followed by a low hum of energy.

Two unfamiliar, yellow-green lightsabers blazed in the darkness.

“Oh, Kark.”

AN: Other chapters are available here.

Dividers by freesia-writes using helmets by lornaka. More designs available here.

#eidola tcw fanfic #star wars #tcw #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #the clone wars #clones #fanfic #fanfiction #clone troopers #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanart #tbb #tbb fanfiction #bad batch #bad batch fanfic #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction

[stuffedeggplants]

What do you guys make of the lines in red? This is Hard Contact, blue dialogue is Fi, and I think the yellow is Niner (whose POV section this is.) 

I’m confused about what the characters are trying to say here. Is Niner using ‘clones’ to mean the baseline clones, not including commandos? If so, then how do you square that with the second underlined sentence from the point of view of those clones? Or is that Niner making assumptions about what they must be thinking? Or to go in a completely different direction, are these two sentences indicative of Niner having maybe...certain opinions and feelings that he’s not really consciously aware of having regarding Skirata? 

#Also how do you hear verbal abuse like that as a child and NOT come to the conclusion that your training sergeant actually hates you? #But then that guy turns around and gives little Niner sweets and gets drunk and cries and that must have been REALLY confusing and worrying #So like #the fact that Niner has picked up some of Skirata's mannerisms in a superficial sense #but -does not casually swear- #makes me wonder if little Niner was uh not feeling loved or respected by Skirata swearing at everyone #(I know the point isn't to feel loved or respected but if it's a human drive to be so anyway and the clones aren't getting it...) #but at the same time Skirata also gives them sweets and acts nicer when it's not Full Metal Jacket time #Don't know a lot about children but I don't know if they are at all capable of like attending bootcamp and coming away thinking #-yeah the DI doesn't actually hate us it's just a Thing they do for specific reasons- #So little Niner associates swearing with abuse leading to it not being a 'normal' casual part of speech for him #(I think he pretty much just swears when he's trying to insult someone because he's angry and affronted or when shit hit the fan 5 min ago) #Look Niner clicking his teeth is an incidental thing that hurts nobody but he may have made a subconscious decision that #he wasn't gonna swear at people once he became a squad leader (or had any kind of authority at all probably) #all cuz when he was 4 years old Skirata was like 😠 and the toddler RCs were like 😔 #Maybe all of this is a HUGE stretch but maybe not??? #Everything about Kamino gets worse the more I think about it #the clones are living on eggshells for multiple reasons that are furthered by nearly everything around them #Republic Commando #Niner #Hard Contact #Kal Skirata #Kal Critical #another post featuring me talking about Niner again... what a surprise

[wanderinginksplot]

One-Shot: Sev + Motto

Sev x gn!reader fic, features the rest of Delta Squad as supporting characters.

Word Count: 1400 or so

Warnings: reader receives minor injuries (burns) on a mission

---

"Play di’kutla games, win di’kutla prizes."

If you had heard Sev say it once, you had heard him say it a thousand times.

Working with Delta Squad was normally fine. Honestly, it was outright entertaining on a regular basis. As an expert in untraceable comms, you were often partnered with commando squads. Infiltrating enemy planets was a norm in your job, and you made sure the squads could communicate with each other and nearby GAR ships regardless of which side controlled the planetside communications systems.

Delta was one of your favorite groups. Fixer was direct and to-the-point, efficient beyond all else. Scorch was side-splittingly funny, even in the middle of an intense battle. Sev was funny as well, though his humor was darker and full of wickedly clever observations. Boss was a natural leader, and he never felt the need to throw his authority around to make a point. More importantly, Delta Squad accepted you as one of their own, and your work with them was seamless in a way it wasn’t among other commando squads.

Of course, that also meant that you were subject to the same treatment as any other member of Delta Squad.

“Watch your fingers!” Fixer warned. “Heat gloves are standard issue for a reason.”

“Does it look like I have time to put on gloves?” you demanded. “Focus on covering me, and I’ll get this done.”

Two minutes, forty-seven seconds later, you had finished setting up the tower and taken a major step toward establishing communications on the Separatist-controlled planet. You would never admit it to Fixer, but you had thoroughly burnt several of your fingers on the superheated durasteel of the communication diverter’s inner core.

Crawling back through the brush to avoid enemy detection was awful. It may not have been so bad, but the burns were scattered across both of your hands and they were already beginning to blister.

You made it back in good time, despite the injuries you were trying to hide. Boss and Scorch had been the other team, going to plant detonators in the appropriate spots. Despite the comparative complexity of your task, you and Fixer were the first ones back. Sev was there to greet you, scowling at the pair of you.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Excuse me, are we not the first team to finish?” you asked, satisfaction clear in your voice.

“Yeah, but if you had been faster, we would have an update on Boss and Scorch by now,” Sev countered. “You know how Scorch gets around too many thermal dets. He may have blown himself up by now and we missed it.”

“Considering how many detonators he had, I’m sure we would have seen the explosion from here,” Fixer told him.

You laughed at the solid point - half because Fixer was funny when he wanted to be and half to release the anxiety and adrenaline of a successfully completed stealth mission.

Fixer leveled an unimpressed look at you. “Besides, some of us could spend this time treating the injuries we’re trying to hide.”

“You got hurt?” Sev asked, frowning at you. From any other squad, it might have sounded like concern, but you immediately spotted it for what it was: a vague irritated belief that you would slow them down.

"Barely," you snorted. "Minor burns, nothing to worry about."

"Until the blisters pop and leave you open to infection," Fixed countered, already taking over the observation post Sev had been manning. "Oh-Seven, take care of it, please? I'm not up to playing medic right now."

"Oh, so I have to?" Sev griped.

You stood up, throwing a look of disgust at the pair. "I think I'll patch myself up, thanks."

You had barely cracked open Delta Squad's first aid kit when heavy footsteps warned that someone had followed you. You ignored Sev's red-streaked armor as he stepped up behind you, focusing instead on spreading bacta gel across the tender burns on your hands.

"Here, just- Would you let me do that?" Sev asked impatiently, taking the gel from your hands.

"I could do it myself," you told him, a little pointlessly, since he had already taken over.

"I know you could, but it'll be faster if you let me."

Sev had removed his helmet, and he had the stubborn set to his jaw that warned that he wasn't going to let this go. Rather than waste both of your time, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your hands. He knelt in front of you, the kit open beside him, and started to apply the bacta gel.

He worked in silence for a few minutes, callused fingers oddly gentle against your skin, until you couldn't take it anymore. "Go ahead, say it."

"Say what?" Sev asked, looking up at you with a frown on his scarred face.

"What you always say," you explained with a frown of your own. "Come on, it's basically your motto."

"I don't have a motto," Sev told you slowly. "I'm not some idiot with a motto. I'm not Scorch."

"Okay, but you can't think of a single phrase you repeat often?" You pressed. "Especially when someone gets hurt doing something you think is stupid?"

"Not really," Sev denied, clearly puzzling it over.

You watched him, aghast at the idea that you had been making up his insulting phrase. As he turned his attention back to your burns, you caught a glimmer in his eye and you nudged him with your foot.

"That's not funny, Sev!" you tried your best to sound furious, but the way you were laughing detracted from the effect. Sev chuckled along with you. "I thought I was going insane!"

"I wouldn't say it to you," Sev said, finishing the last bandage.

You stared at him. "Yeah, of course not. It isn't like you've said it to me multiple times in past missions."

"Well, those, you actually had done something stupid and you got what you deserved," he told you mercilessly. "But this time, you got hurt trying to complete a mission."

"Yeah, but I wasn't wearing the proper gear," you countered.

Sev didn't look impressed, picking up one of your carefully bandaged hands as he spoke. "I know burns, and heat gloves wouldn't have saved you here. Maybe the burns would have been less intense, but we would also be picking melted synthweave out of your hands."

You squeezed Sev's hand since it was still wrapped around your own. "Thanks for making me feel better, Sev, and for taking care of my hands."

"Well, I have to make sure my favorite comm specialist is willing to work with us again," Sev told you, helping you to your feet.

You had never taken a step away, and from your position standing close to Sev, you stared up with a dumb grin spreading across your face. "I'm your favorite comm specialist?"

"You're my favorite anything specialist," he told you and you beamed at him. To your complete shock, he returned your smile, his handsome face glowing with the quiet happiness of the moment.

You began to speak, though you had no idea what you planned to say. Unfortunately - or fortunately - you were interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Boss and Scorch. Delta Squad's leader was supporting Scorch, who limped along making exaggerated noises of pain.

"Scorch, what happened? Are you okay?" you asked, horrified that he had been hurt.

"I didn't bring enough fuse," Scorch answered, immediately dropping his pained attitude - though his limp didn't change a bit. "Had to run from the site and I twisted my ankle."

"Well, play di'kutla games, win di'kutla prizes," Sev told him sourly as you shot him a disbelieving grin.

"Yeah, yeah," Scorch muttered. "This team doesn't appreciate my talents."

"Talents," Fixed scoffed.

"Of course!" Scorch replied, sounding offended. "It takes talent to get hurt this often and not die."

"The Kaminoans may have bred us for tenacity, but I don't think that's what they had in mind," Boss told him. "There's something to be said for learning from your mistakes."

"Isn't anyone on my side?" Scorch complained, eyeing you pointedly.

You sighed, but threw him some sympathy anyway. "I'm on your side, Scorch. I'm glad you're okay."

Fixer cut short Scorch's gloating. "That's only because you weren't the only one who was injured doing something stupid today."

Scorch gave you a commiserating nod. "Did Sev give you the speech, too?"

You glanced up at Sev. The scarred commando was watching you as he tried to bite back a smile. You shot him a subtle wink and said, "Yeah, something like that."

---

A/N - dedicated to myself, because I say "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes" way too often for someone who is usually the one playing the stupid game. Feel free to visit my masterlist for other one-shots and series, or make a request!

#star wars #star wars fic #star wars prequels #star wars republic commando #star wars the clone wars #prequel era #sw fic #sw fanfic #republic commando sev #clone commando sev #sev x reader #sev x you #republic commando fixer #fixer #republic commando boss #sergeant boss #boss #clone commando scorch #republic commando scorch #scorch

[itsagrimm]

Imperial!Tech 3

Summary: Tech's chip activated instead of Crosshairs so Tech is now an imperial commander tasked to serve the Empire at any cost. But is he willing to do so? And are you, dear Y/N as member of the experimental Elite Squad, willing to follow any order your commander Tech gives?

CN: self-harm, talk of death murder and war crimes, stalker behaviour, soldier life in a fascist state, power imbalance, overreaching behaviour, structural violence, sexually predatory behaviour and the likes, sensual overload, insomnia, references of drug abuse, depression and mental health issues, trauma

Imperial!tech X they*them Y/N reader, afab

Thanks a lot to @eyecandyeoz for your insight, feedback and thoughts. Check out their lovely blog!

I am sorry it took me so long. next part will be faster. I already started writing it.

And feel free to criticise especially concerning my use of CN and if the reader perspective is inclusive for you.

2800 words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Tech collapsed into the chair as soon as Y/N had left the room. He was tired, so tired. He leaned back and put on his glasses. Him taking off his visual aids around Y/N was a degree of trust Tech rarely allowed. He was nearly blind without his glasses and the Kaminoans had considered terminating him for that. Tech was sure Y/N did not even know how much he had surrendered himself to Y/N and their touch. Their oh so soft touch. The memory of it was still fresh on his skin. It raced through is mind which for once was craving to match his body with the need to slow down and take a rest.

But it didn’t.

Y/N was pleasant to be around. Their touch was careful and considered. Only his brothers used to treat him like his. – His brothers, the former clone force 99, had left him behind after they refused to comply with order 66. Due to their divergence the inhibitor chip had not worked while he, Tech, had tried to kill the Jedi. – He had tried to kill a child. – The effect of the inhibitor chip was decreasing. His wound received on Bracca had an 84,743 % chance of damaging the inhibitor chip. But he should investigate further and get the chip out to stop any possible interference with his superior thought process. - Y/N was not aware of the inhibitor chips. He felt the need to tell them. Why? – The Havoc Marauder had not been mentioned on the imperial comm chatter for a while. – Echo was likely to take care of the ship now. – He should get some sustenance. He felt hunger. – Y/N – The Empire expected a degree of loyalty, uniformity, and compliance he was unsure he could deliver for long considering his diverging mind. – what would Hunter do? – the kaminoan proverb “yn’ja tha vaí m°O” was untranslatable into Basic but could be understood in Sit Bisti as “it needs tö be döne för the betterment öf äll”- The Empire was unlikely to grant him the freedom to find his brothers or in fact any freedom. – The canteen might serve Tiingilar tonight – He was a child slave destined to die in approximately 34,6 standard yearly rotations from old age if not sooner. – maybe the canteen will serve uj’alayi too. – Does Y/N speak Mando’an? He should enquire. – Of course, there will be no uj’alayi today. The Kaminoans did not allow sweet foods. – Y/N – How did the atmospheric controls work that ensured breathable air even for the highest floors of coruscanti buildings? - He knew why his brothers left him behind, but why did it feel so painful. – The empire was likely to kill him if he out served his usefulness for them. - He had tried to kill a child. He had killed several children on Onderon. How could he live with that? How could-

Tech forced his thoughts to stop by digging his fingers into his bloody scar.

The sharp pain felt soothing.

“Let’s consider making a list of the most pressing tasks for now.”

He starred at the ceiling.

“The Empire. It is the closest threat to my demise, but it can be my salvation if I am useful. Am I willing and capable to do that?”

His head started spinning again just at the thought of killing another child for the Empire. And yet serving the Empire gave him purpose he wasn’t sure he could muster on his own.

“Where are my brothers? How are they? How do I feel about them?”

Another unpleasant wave of thoughts and feelings washed over Tech before he continued.

“What is with the inhibitor chip inside my head?”

He nodded to himself. That was a rational and containable problem with fixed variables and clear answers. He felt comfortable with that question, pushing aside all the things he might have done due to being under the chips influence.

Only one question was left now.

“Why do I enjoy Y/N presence?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ryloth had a warm and dusty climate during daytime. Y/N felt sweat dripping under the dark armour. The elite squad, including a new ES-03, was ordered to stand close by to Admiral Rampart, the highest imperial officer on Ryloth. And so, they had spent the last rotations following the Admiral around, doing tedious security work and presenting themselves like the Admirals favourite guard dogs to a public very much disliking their military presence. For once, even commander Tech looked annoyed about their not spec-ops appropriate services.

Today they were on the outlook. The Admiral wanted them scanning a large crowd for troublemakers and resistance fighters during a public announcement. Y/N couldn’t blame them. The Twi’lek of Ryloth had spent years fighting for their independence and spilled an ocean of blood on the dusty planet’s surface only to face an Empire now. Half a life ago Y/N would have hated themselves for being a soldier in service of a suppressing ruler. But now it was paid work.

“ES-01?”, Commander Tech brought Y/N back from their thoughts

“I am in position before the crowd.”

“ES-02?”

“Yes sir, I am on the building as you ordered.”

“ES-03?”

“Any nonimperial transmissions are being blocked now.”

“ES-04?”

“The war hawk is ready for take-off in case we need it.”

“Good. Do you register any noteworthy activity?

Y/N gazed through the crowd. They were mostly Twi’lek, waiting to hear from their leaders. All of them were in civilian clothing, none came with visible weapons.

“I can’t spot anything, sir.”

Tech said nothing. But Y/N could hear him type something.

“Analysing previous rebel fighter behaviour and strategies in similar situations they are likely to appear at these coordinates within the crowd today. I am sending you a list for you to especially pay attention to, ONCE.”, he finally said using the moniker the elite squad had given Y/N.

“Yes sir.”

Y/N looked at their holopad and started checking the coordinates commander Tech had calculated. At entry four they spotted their targets.

“Commander. I have a visual about 40 meters from my position, 10 o’clock. There are two fighters. Twi’lek. One female and one male passing. Shade of blue and orange.”

A moment everyone was silent.

“Confirmed.”, ES-02 stated.

Another moment passed.

“Observe them for now. Stay alert.”, Tech ordered before ending the transmission.

High above the Twi’lek senator started to talk. Y/N could not remember his name and paid little attention to his words. Unlike the Twi’lek.

“They are not happy.”, ES-02 stated flatly.

“Yeah thanks, I would not have noticed without you.”

“Always a pleasure to help out, ONCE.”

ES-02 was right. The crowd was angry. The imperial presence, the empty words of some disaffected politician, the fresh memories of the clone war. It was no surprise that the Twi’lek called out for their resistance leaders to speak.

“We want Syndulla! We want Syndulla!”, the crowd chanted.

A different voice from above started speaking. The crowd calmed down, not entirely happy but at least not a raging mob.

“At least we will not have to gun them down, now.”, ES-02 mumbled with a bitter voice.

“Would you really do that, two?”

“You know what they say, good soldiers follow orders, ONCE. And I intend to be one. Especially when I’m getting paid for it.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

Rampart was an asshole. He was a smug little administrator, willing to lie, back-stab and sacrifice whatever needed to achieve his goals. Rampart was the perfect general to handle a loaded situation like the one on Ryloth. And he was no fool.

Y/N hat noticed that he had kept both commander Tech and Howzer, the commanding clone trooper in charge of the regular clone troopers on Ryloth, close. A strategic move. Spec-ops commandos like the elite squad and regular commandos were in constant competition and mistrust to each other. Should one commander not deliver or even consider treason the other would interfere. And Rampart would always end up on the winning side of their clone infighting.

Y/N could here their arguing inside the office.

Commander Tech had ordered for Y/N to wait outside the office for new orders.

More arguing from the office was audible until finally Ramparts voice cut their bickering short.

The door opened and Howzer left. His expression was that of a practised reserved solider hiding his worries.

The door opened again, and commander Tech stepped outside of Ramparts office.

He looked tense.

Instead of a greeting or an order he just started walking. They followed him.

“Clone force 99 is here. But we are kept on a short leash. As always.”, Tech stated, “It is implausible to not use the best tools possible when confronted with a problem. Howzers troopers will not be able to beat them if necessary. Just like they won’t be able or unwilling to beat the Twi’lek should the need arise.”

Since Kamino the commander had started to share more of his thoughts with Y/N. All they had left to do was to listen and ask the right questions.

“Sir, you think Howzer will commit subordination?”

“There is a possibility of him and his men disagreeing with the new imperial leadership and it’s methods. Howzers unit has fought alongside the Twi’leks the past years. Bounds forged in the trenches can be stronger than loyalty to an administrator from Coruscant. But I require further data to assess the likelihood of treason.”

“What about clone force 99?”

“Their abilities and erratic strategies will be a challenge should we … no, should I have to face them.”

“So, we did not get the order to hunt them down?”

“No. Not yet.”

“And yet you already imply them as of importance.”

“It would be a grave strategic mistake to dismiss their presence.”

“So, what is the elite squad going to do about them? What are your orders, sir?”

Tech paused and adjusted his glasses.

“We are going to do nothing.”

“Sir!?”

“Don’t.” There was a warning in his voice. A signal to Y/N not to cross a line, invisible yet perceptible. He was after all a commander and Y/N just a soldier.

“I am sorry. I overstepped. You are in charge.”

He turned, stepped away and looked at Y/N. His eyes scrutinized them like a scientist inspecting a rare specimen of remarkable value.

They shivered.

His gaze was intriguing. It was painful to feel on display like that. And yet it was nearly intimate to be studied by Tech. Unsure if he would finally hit Y/N for their countless discretions or if he just contemplated their objections.

Finally, Tech nodded appeased and continued his walking without any further talk.

“What do you want us to do now, sir?”

Tech stopped.

“What do I want you to do now?”, Tech repeated as if the question had a different meaning to him than it had to Y/N.

He took out his holopad only to put it away again. He cleared his throat.

“I need you to stay alert. The situation is complicated. For now, get some sleep. The chances are below 4,65 % that there will be a significant development within the next two hours. After that I except the elite squad to be combat ready.”

“Yes sir.”

XXXXXXXXX

The Refresher room was empty. Most clones avoided the elite squad, and all the other members of their unit were taking a nap before the night shift which left Y/N to have the large washroom for themselves.

They signed.

Taking a shower and having some alone time to think and feel before finally taking a rest was what they needed.

Y/N started to strip out of the armour.

First, they took of the helmet, then the vambraces and shin guards before getting the shoulder pieces and lifting the heavy breast armour off before finally getting out of the abdomen armour. The black katarn fell to the floor, making loud echoing noises.

Y/N didn’t care. No one was to correct them on their improper handling of equipment here.

And as much as the armour was a useful necessity, it was a heavy burden in more than one way.

Their blacks followed and soon Y/N was standing under the refresher, naked and alone.

The water was hot and painful.

It was a welcome distraction to all the feelings of … well what exactly?

Y/N felt tears running down their face.

No, no, no. It’s just the refresher.

An uptight sob escaped Y/Ns throat. It was all so different from what they imagined. They had entered imperial service for the payment during a desperate time. And ended up witnessing murder after murder, committing murder.

Today they could have become accomplices to killing a crowd of innocent Twi’leks. And Y/N knew that they would have complied with the order to open fire on the civilians if given. How could they not? Surrounded by troopers like them, ordered around by heartless and calculating commanders.

Would Tech give a killing order like this?

Was he that heartless?

He had done so before.

He had killed so many times before their eyes and yet a piece of Y/N refused to see him as a murderer. In fact, they felt shameful about feeling and thinking about Tech – about their commanding officer – at all.

Y/N stopped fighting the tears and cried out loud.

Nobody would know about this.

Nobody would know about their doubt and vulnerability.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As always sleep had been an unwilling friend to visit Tech. With a sigh he gave up and got up from the cot. As always, his mind was racing. He had tried the breathing techniques Crosshair taught him after a particular long stretch of insomnia, but it didn’t work.

And Tech wasn’t in the mood to experiment with the vast collection of sedatives to force his body to sleep right before possibly facing his brothers and definitely meeting admiral Rampart soon.

Work it was then.

His holopad listed only unchallenging administrative tasks.

The new Shuttle was in top shape.

His weapons were cleaned.

Tech had nothing to keep is overthinking brain in check.

Kriff, his life really was miserable. A never-ending effort to bringing his spiralling mind some peace.

A notification came in.

What a blessing.

Tech looked at the holopad again. It was just a reminder to check on his subordinates, to listen in on their private talks and vital signs.

The order from Imperial Command was an uncomfortable task but it was the best he had to do right now. And listing in on some snoring was better than listening to the elite squads talk like last time. At least it felt less overreaching.

He started with ES-04 and workout down from there. Four was in deep slumber, nothing of interest to note. ES-03 was still new and his sleep was restless, a few murmurs about his home planet and family escaped his lips. ES-02 was dreaming. His heartrate was accelerated. Tech turned his observation of, not interested in the rutting sounds of ES-02.

ES-01 was left. ONCE. Y/N. The thought of peeping into their private life was not only uncomfortable, but it also felt violent to strip Y/N of their peace and privacy.

And yet, Y/N was the only one Tech WANTED to know more about. He felt his desire to learn more about Y/N like a physical need, an addicting obsession Tech knew he needed to be careful with not to indulge.

Was their slumber peaceful and sweet?

Did they have dreams about home?

Or did they fight their nightmares in sleep just like they did awake?

He swallowed.

He was just following an order.

He will do nothing more.

He was just a good soldier.

Y/N wasn’t asleep. Their bucket was off and there were no vital signs coming of them. But the acoustic signal was working.

Y/N was somewhere with a lot of echoes and running water.

Tech felt himself blushing and getting hot.

They were in the shower.

It felt so right to listen in on Y/N. Tech felt bad about it.

The thought of water running down their bare and naked body made Techs mind slow like nothing ever before. The pleasure of a calm mind made him groan.

He hesitated. This was not okay. He shouldn’t listen. He shouldn’t imagine a subordinate like that. He hated that he had to. He hated that the Empire gave him order to do so. But more than that he hated himself for following that order so willingly.

He reached for the off button on his holopad.

A sob.

Was that Y/N? Were they crying?

Tech’s mind went from zero into overdrive. He needed to know who or whatever made you feel like crying. He would find out. And he would remove whatever it was from your life.

Part 4

#the sad batch #the bad batch #imperial!tech #imperial tech #tbb #the bad batch tech #tbb tech #tbb toxic tech #star wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #swtbb #sw: tbb #good soldiers follow orders #tech x you #tech x y/n #tech bad batch #tbb x you #tbb x reader #grimmwriting

[feltpool]

I’m not calling him a coward here.

But exactly how pants-wettingly terrified of Crosshair and his abilities is Hunter that he can barely even mention his name, let alone formulate a plan to attempt to retrieve him that doesn’t, in his mind, end in the total annihilation of his entire squad of supposedly elite and unstoppable experimental clone commandos?

Because fear fucks with your mind.

It makes you overthink all the things which could go wrong and makes you put off making any firm or hard decisions by making you focus only on short term choices, putting off the longer term ones to be later-you’s problem.

.

Is that why it’s supposed to have taken him/them this long to even consider the possibility of getting their brother back?

And only then because the literal child on the team guilt tripped him into it?

I mean, I’m not saying he doesn’t have a good reason here.

They’re so much weaker without him on their side. The minute they lost Crosshair they went from being an unstoppable team with a 100% success rate to strugging to fight their way out of a wet paper bag.

Without him watching their backs they were picked off by Zygerrian slavers in record time, almost lost Omega to Fennec Shand, and struggled against the Martez sisters to collect data from a decommissioned tactical droid.

Hunter’s first instinct after leaving Kamino was to run away and hide on an obscure moon and the only things which kept him in motion were the double threat of Crosshair and imminent starvation.

And the threat of starvation was the secondary consideration.

All the time they’ve been on the run Hunter has struggled to find a direction or work out what to do next. He’s come across (to me) as a pretty poor leader during this time. I do appreciate that all of this is totally outside of his frame of reference but he’s been totally lost at sea and shown no signs of knowing how to paddle.

And he’s either too proud, or it’s simply never occured to him that he’s able to, but he never asks any of his team for their input into their situation. Only into a specific part of a mission which falls into their particular skillset. Other than that they all just do what he tells them to.

.

During this time we’ve seen Crosshair playing leader to perfection.

He’s been commander of not only his own personal team but anything up to three attack ships worth of troopers who have followed his every order without hesitation.

The only time one of his men spoke up against him was right at the start of the enhanced control of the chip over him when ES1 said spectacularly bad things right to his face and paid the price for it.

During this time he hasn’t missed a single target he’s aimed at unless it’s been his brothers, in which case he suddenly can’t hit the side of a barn!

The way he managed everyone in the last episode was wonderful and really highlighted his ability to think on his feet and adapt as his situation changes .

He sized Howser up in a very short time, arranged his troops front and centre where everyone would see them and know he was being a Good Boy™ waiting for the Syndulla’s to emerge, chose not to gun down Howser or any of the troopers who supported him and only had them arrested for their actions rather than executed, ‘happened’ to miss the departing shuttle with each of the 4 shots he fired roughly in its direction and then, having apparently convinced Rampart that his previous failure to bring his former team down really wasn’t actually a failing on his part in any way at all, got Rampart to agree to allowing him to hunt them down.

Presumably to a location which isn’t under Empire control, with a limited number of troops, where the resolution of his plotline can finally come to its end.

.

And that scene at the end when Hunter sensed his presence, turned to look out the window so they could see each other?

He surely has to wonder how come they got away.

How come Crosshair and his troopers didn’t come for them.

How come Crosshair is just standing there instead of shooting at them right at that moment.

Doesn’t he?

#tbb #hunter #crosshair #fear

[mads-weasley]

Love & War Pt. 3: Moonlight

40s!Bucky Barnes x Medic!Reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: These are so much fun to write! I’m such a sucker for 40s Bucky so I love this as much as y’all do! Sadly, I do not own any of these amazing characters other than (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: The day after (y/n) joins the team, they are given a mission integral to the Allied victory, giving her the opportunity to become closer to the other Commandos.

Warnings: mentions of blood, angst, war, typical cannon violence, some fluff

A/N #2: When Bucky says “Cher,” it’s pronounced like the beginning of Cherry!!

(y/n) - your name

(y/l/n) - your last name

(y/n/n) - your nickname

(y/h /c) - your hair color

(y/e/c) - your eye color

“Everyone wake up, we’ve got a mission.”

Steve’s deep voice wakes (y/n) up almost instantly. Slowly rising, she yawns and starts to quickly get ready for the day. The other Commandos are starting to do so as well. It’s 6:30 in the morning and they went to sleep well past 12 the night before.

“We leave at 0800.” Colonel Phillips struts in the room, while everyone else drop what they’re doing and salutes. “At ease, soldiers.”

“Colonel, I thought this was just a routine mission, so with all due respect, sir, why are you here?” Philips ushered Steve into a neighboring room to get some privacy. Soon, everyone else went back to packing.

(Y/n) could easily tell Rogers was the leader of the squad. His natural courage and good heart made him perfect for the role of Captain America. She thought that he was the type of man her friend, Allie, would like; tall, blond, strong, polite. Normally, she would think the same thing about herself, but it was a certain brunet who couldn’t evade their thoughts, no matter how hard she tried.

She didn’t know this, but Bucky kept stealing glances of (y/n) when she was gathering her things. Most of the girls he had went out with in the past would just melt right into his hands. (Y/n), though, was different. She’s independent and wasn’t going to give in as easily as the other girls, and he liked that.

As he was looking at her, he couldn’t help but admire her natural beauty; her (y/h/c) hair, delicate skin, and her eyes......whew, they sure had him entranced from the first moment he looked at em’. Her (y/e/c) irises were like stars he wanted to explore and oceans he would love to drown in. She began putting on some bright red lipstick and Bucky found himself biting his lip unconsciously.

Laughing, Dum Dum caught him staring with a small smile, “I thought you had renounced your old ways, Buck? She hasn’t even been here a day and you’re already in trouble.”

The younger man just laughs and nods slightly, still looking at (y/n). “Yeah, I’m in trouble.”

~

*at mission briefing: 7:30 am”

“This is a highly classified mission. It can’t leave this room.” Everyone nods in agreement before Cap continues. “Were going to have to make our way through enemy lines to Trouy, a small town outside of Bourges, which we are having trouble reaching. Colonel Philips believes that if we take the town quietly, we can make the way to Bourges easier for the rest of the Allied troops. Stealth is key on this one, guys. Also, it’s going to take a few hours to walk there through the wilderness, so Dugan, you might want to bring a snack.” Cap chuckles before continuing, “We leave in 20 minutes. Dismissed.”

(Y/n) was excited and nervous to go on her first mission. She’d heard stories of the dangerous missions the Commandos took part in, but instead of scaring her, it thrilled her. Thankfully, she had attended basic training, so she knew how to use a gun and defend herself. She didn’t realize everyone else was up and about until a voice broke her from her thoughts.

“Nervous, Cherry?”

Her eyes snap to his; those baby browns she’d been lost in the night before. “Cherry? Where’d you get that from?”

Licking his lips, a smirk appeared on his face. “Well, your lipstick is bright red, like a cherry.”

“How observant you are, James.” The comment dripped in sarcasm as she looked up at him.

“Just doing what I do best, doll.” His brows furrow slightly. “Really though, are you nervous?”

“I’m nervous and excited if that makes sense. I’m not excited for people to die or anything like that, I’m just excited to feel important; like I’m a first pick for once.”

The slightly hurt look behind her eyes tells him there’s a story behind the comment, but he doesn’t push it. Nodding his head, he agrees. “I actually know exactly what you mean. You’re gonna do great, (y/n). Dugan told us how good you are in the field.....repeatedly.”

Finishing his sentence, he ran his hand through his hair before smiling and walking away. This made (y/n) heart race and she shifted her weight from foot to foot with a grin plastered on her face. After a few moments, Steve approaches her with some clothes in his hands.

“Here. Since you’re a part of the squad, you have to have a uniform that looks somewhat like ours. The only major difference is that you have the medic patch on your arm.”

With a nod from her, he hands (y/n) the clothes. (Peggy’s uniform) Once she changes into her new outfit, the group meets at the camp’s makeshift garage. They loaded a truck to try and get as close as they could to the line of demarcation that separated Nazi-occupied France and liberated France.

~

The ride to the line wasn’t long, but it was bumpy. When they arrived, it was nightfall, so they could sneak in under the cover of darkness. The young North Carolinian had her medic bag on her back along with a Colt 1911 in her thigh holster as a last resort. Rogers had told them earlier that the truck wasn’t going to stop because it might raise suspicion. Due to this, they had to jump from the moving truck and make their way through the woods to the town.

Steve motioned it was time to jump and one by one, each of them bounded out the back and ran into the woods. Once everyone was there, they started quietly making their way to Trouy. Although she told Bucky that she wasn’t really nervous, her hands were slightly shaking in result of being in German territory in almost complete darkness. Looking ahead, she saw something that instantly calmed her down; James. He looked up at the moon through a break in the foliage above them. A single ray of moonlight illuminated his face, showing off his razor-sharp jawline and the awestruck smile that painted his face.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but smile and stare at the sweet, boy-like action. To her dismay, this didn’t go unnoticed by Dum Dum.

“Like what you see?” He asks quietly, walking beside her.

Gasping softly, she quickly averts her gaze. “I..um. I wasn’t...uh...looking at him. There was something....something behind him I was looking at.”

He chuckles at her embarrassed stutter. “Sure, sweetheart.”

Dugan could already see what was happening. Bucky and (y/n) were looking at each other the same way, but he promised himself he wouldn’t intervene. For once, he was gonna let it play out naturally. Steve had Peggy, unofficially of course, so it was only right for Bucky to have someone too. Dum Dum’s only fear was that they would soon become each other’s weakness; and weakness can be catastrophic in war.

~

Once the squad had been walking for about 3 hours, they heard the rumble of an engine and voices from the road merely feet from the tree-line. After a few seconds, (y/n)’s eyes widened when she realized who the voices belonged to; Nazis. She knew when she enlisted that she’d come in contact with them, but seeing them up close was different; it was terrifying.

The Commandos quickly ducked and drew their weapons, and (y/n) soon followed suit. Everyone froze in place as the fear of being discovered increased by the second. From her crouched position, she could see the men on the road picking up crates and placing them on the truck. Once the pile of boxes dwindled to nothing, they got in the truck and drove away. The group started to slowly move again.

Sighing, (y/n) looks over to Bucky with raised eyebrows. The young man mirrors her actions and walks over to her. “Was that your first time seeing a Nazi?”

“What makes you say that?” Her shoulders lift into a small shrug.

“Oh, I don’t know, Cherry. Maybe it’s the way you look like someone just killed your cat.”

She scoffs, walking away from the soldier. Naturally, he follows after her, walking to her right. “Listen, doll, that wasn’t me trying to be insensitive or pigheaded. I just...I’m nervous, and when I’m nervous, I say dumb stuff like that.”

“Why are you nervous, Barnes? Haven’t you done this a million times?”

His smile fades as he looks in the direction they are walking. “I uh.. thi-“

Bucky was cut off by Cap’s hushed, deep voice. “We’re here. Okay, Gabe, Jacques, and Jim; you go to the communications building and disable their transponders. Falsworth, Dugan, (y/l/n), and I, will be taking the town one building at a time. Hopefully, at least. Buck, you know what to do. All right, let’s move out.”

The first thing that (y/n) thought was ‘What does he mean James knows what to do?’ While the men were doing one last checklist of what they needed, she walks over to Bucky. “Hey. What did Steve mean when he said ‘You know what to do’?”

“Don’t worry, Cher. I’m a sniper.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Oh. Okay. Well...um...be careful, James.”

“Yes ma’am. You too.”

Turning to walk away, she smirks, “I will be, and if I’m not, you’ve got me, right?”

“Absolutely.”

With that, he was off to find a good vantage point in the hills of the small town, leaving (y/n) with her thoughts about the upcoming battle.

———————————————————————

Tag List:

@confusednerd09 @ahahafudge @bluemoon-icecream @lunamadhatter99 @thatfangirl42 @fionanovasleftnut @friendly-letters @youcanstandundermyamberella @caritobbg @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @fitzfiles @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @jo-ha-nna @pastel-boy-sungjae @ginger-swag-rapunzel @simp-for-bucky @ceo-of-daichi @quinnmaddie @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #40s!bucky #40s bucky #40s bucky barnes #40s!bucky x reader #steve rogers #dum dum dugan #peggy carter #medic!reader #1940s vintage #1940s bucky #decade: 1940s #1940s #world war two #red skull #howling commandos #ca: the first avenger #catfa #captain america #captain america the first avenger #hydra

[emperor-palpaminty]

Hello hello, Minty! How is your day going? Have you read Republic Commando by any chance? If so, may I please request some romance with Niner? Thank you for your time 🙏🏻

Oh goodness! I have just started this series and it is so good. I've played the game and i just finished the first book, but i know Niner. I hope i do him justice! This is pre-books and pre-Order 66.

I know that there's already a Jedi and clone relationship in Commando (no spoilers whoops) so... I will make reader the a psychiatrist for the republic because I just think the one with Echo was fun

"So, you found... What?" The pen tapped on the pad.

Niner felt his lip twitch as he watched the intelligent eyes skim the paper before glancing back up at him. "Old Holocron. Crypt. Usual stuff you find in a cave, I think. An evil cave." He pressed his lips back again, in order to avoid them twitching.

The psychological examiner clicked their pen. They used pen and paper still, which was unusual. "Theta squad sounds... Reluctant to talk." They rested their chin in their hand. "Some strong sense of loyalty. Fraternity."

"Yeah, that one." Niner leaned back, crossing his arms again.

The spiral spine of the pad creaked slightly as the therapist closed it, chin resting in their hand. "May I be candid with you, Niner?" The eyes darted down to the holopad, registering for a moment, and then spoke again. "You're a good leader. I've read your file. I would be dishonest if I said I was not impressed- kark, all of us are impressed." They tossed the pad on the nearby table.

Niner pressed his lips shut tighter, glancing away, lips sealed- leading your squadron to death was no way to be remembered, and he would not repeat this incident with the Theta Squadron.

But no shrink would ever know that. And he would never say it.

The therapist pushed their lips into a grin, tilting their head to the side. "But I can tell you don't want to talk. But, you know, the guys upstairs said you have to talk to me for a certain number of hours. So," They leaned back, mimicking how he crossed his arms. "I'm afraid to say you'll be reporting to me every week until you begin talking. Even if you come and sit here and say nothing for three weeks, I can only count talking hours."

Niner felt his jaw tighten. Something tapped the table which he assumed was the pen. He didn't check.

The therapist scanned him, eyes inquisitive- not judgmental. "I look forward to talking to you more."

Niner stood, exhaling a breath, shoving the irritation into his mouth. The words were sour. "Next week. But I won't be saying anything."

They only smiled, politely, casually. "And I look forward to it." The therapist stood and walked him towards the pristine door.

It was odd how genuine they sounded- Niner knew lies, and this shrink didn't have an ounce of dishonesty weighing in her. "Doc," Niner said, stopping at the door. "How much do you have to report to the uppers?"

They smiled at him, sliding open the door. "Only what is necessary. Everything else is between you and I."

Niner felt himself nod again, stiffly, and stepped out. The door slid shut behind him, and he felt the eyes of the therapist on him, assessing him in the most courious of ways. He walked down the hall, shocked to find himself ready to talk next week.

#republic commando #clones #niner #clone wars reader insert #star wars reader insert #niner x reader #niner x you

[phantomwitch16]

Avengers EMH & B99 AU Backstories

To add stuff to my previous post where the Avengers are in the Brooklyn Nine Nine Universe, I’m adding backstories to the characters that would remain true with the A:EMH universe but remain realistic enough to the real world. Though, just to warn you, I might get some real world facts wrong.

Hank & Jan

Janet’s father was a forensic lab tech working on an important case while she was still in college getting a fashion degree. Like a drug bust or something to do with a gang. Someone broke into the labs while he was working late one night and killed him before destroying the evidence while doing so. She found her father when she came looking for him after he didn’t pick up her calls.

Hank was one of Mr Van Dyne’s colleague and he acted as a sort of mentor to him when he first started out as lab tech. He is part of the reason why Janet became a cop.

Hank and Jan had met each other not long before her father’s death. He was in another lab close to where Mr. Van Dyne was, working on another case when he heard Jan’s screams. He found her at the door of her father’s lab with the man on the ground in a pool of his own blood and riddled with bullet holes.

After the police come to a dead end, they both work on finding the culprit, putting him in prison along with his associates. The two remain in contact afterwards and when Janet graduates from college with a fashion degree, she joins the police academy and makes her way up to detective with Hank supporting her.

Steve & Bucky

Steve like in canon was a skinny, sickly kid who grew up in Brooklyn. He grew up wanting to be a policeman but with the state his body was in, it was impossible. Until one day, he ended up being a test subject for some medication designed to help people in Steve’s position.

The medication was destroyed by Hydra and Steve worked for half a year before he could join the police academy. Once he graduated, he began to make quick work of the gang. Steve rose through the ranks, catching Wolfgang von Strucker and Helmut Zemo. After only a few years, Hydra was on it’s last legs and the only last person the police needed to find was the Red Skull, the leader Hydra.

Steve and his partner, a rookie cop named James Buchanan Barnes AKA Bucky, tracked them down in a warehouse in the docks. Once Steve, Bucky and the squad known as the Howling Commandos broke into the warehouse, arresting numerous gang members.

Once loading them all up into squad cars, the Bucky shoved Steve into the pier with the resulting fall putting him in a coma for over a decade. He was in a coma for over a decade after getting hit in the head when he and his partner a rookie called Bucky were closing in on the leader of Hydra, only known as the Red Skull. 

The resulting fall put Steve in a coma that lasted over ten years. When he woke up, he had no idea where he was or what happened to Bucky.

Tony Stark 

Tony’s background remains largely the same. He was the adopted son of Howard and Maria Stark, inherited Stark Industries after they had passed and was kidnapped by terrorists while he was in another country. The last event impacted Tony in a dramatically, to the point where he leaves the arms dealership.

For a long while, Tony didn’t know what to do after coming back and leaving the arms dealership, so he threw himself into his work. he would spend days in the labs, often not eating or sleeping for long periods. So much so, he was sleeping on his work bench and built himself a robot butler to get him food whenever he got too peckish. His assistant, Pepper, his driver, Happy and his best friend Rhodey had to literally drag him away so he could attend social functions, meetings and other business stuff.

When the breakout occurs, it was kind of a wake up call for him. For some time after, Tony began met with Fury in the hopes of setting up a charity events to help those who were affected in the breakouts. During one of these events he met his father’s friend Steve who had been going through physical therapy at the time and had not yet been assigned a precinct. He met the man a few times during his childhood and knew a couple of stories his father told him but didn’t know him well.

The two chatted and soon began a friendship that Tony was glad to have.

Clint & Natasha

Clint and Natasha were both previously criminals who became cops after they both did time. Clint used to be in a gang called the Circus and Natasha worked as an undercover operative for a crime syndicate known as the Red Room. The two knew each other before joining the police, having cross paths and previous romantic relationship that didn’t really go anywhere while in their own respective crime groups.

After getting caught and arrested, both of them were on their way to prison when Fury stepped in to offer them a position in the force as undercover cops with most of their crimes being wiped from their records. They were both reluctant for their own reasons but eventually joined the force, with Natasha joining the NYPD years before Clint did. When he did join, she acted as a sort of mentor to him during this transition.

Being an undercover cop, Clint and Natasha often work under shady organisations. Natasha more than Clint who preferred to do actual cop duty with his friend Bobbi. On one such occasion Fury tasked Natasha to infiltrate Hydra and feed them false information. She took the job very seriously.

When Clint began to notice she was acting more secretive than usual, he began to investigate her, and finding some fake info about some operations on Hydra, he rightly assumed that she was a dirty cop and went back to her old ways.

He confronted her about it and soon the confrontation became a physical altercation to which Natasha won and knocked Clint out. She made the tough decision of framing Clint and putting the entire blame on him to prove her loyalty to Hydra. Being pushed under the bus by his best friend, Clint went to prison for several months. For that time he was very angry and hurt. He broke out when the prison security was hacked and every criminal that occupied them escaped.

T’Challa

T’Challa is still the prince of Wakanda. After his father was murdered by Man-Ape, he and a few others rebelled, going America with his sister so that they would not be killed for their actions and so that neither T’Challa nor his sister would claim the throne for the country. No one in America is aware that they were there. For months, no one knew where they were. Only meeting up in the back allies of New York to plan to reclaim their home.

They blended in with the people but that comfort didn’t remain for long. One night after their gathering, T’Challa and Shuri were making their way back home together when one of Man-Ape’s henchmen found them and attempted to assassinate them. Steve and Jan, who were nearby doing a stake out at an apartment near by, heard gun shots and thought it was connected to the case. They intercepted with Steve shooting the assailant in the leg and saving them. 

After that, T’Challa requested that he and the other precinct members hide him and the rebels until they figure out a plan to reclaim Wakanda. After learning his circumstances and debating with other members of the team, Steve accepted, making him an unofficial member of the family.

Thor

Thor was the heir for a big wealthy company somewhere in Europe. The company was built up by his grandfather and it was passed down to his father and soon to his. If not to him, then the company would fall back to adopted brother Loki, which Odin is heavily against as since Loki had attempted to destroy the business several times since he learned that he was adopted when he was an adult, he grew resentful of his family. Thor especially.

He was studying in America to learn how to successful take care of the business after his father, Odin, retired within the next few years. He was studying to get a bachelors degree in business. Thor didn’t mind taking over the company and seemed content with his role as the heir of the company. It was after he had stop a few criminals from attacking a medic named Jane while he was searching for a nice place to take some pictures for his friends back home did he change his mind.

After Thor graduated, began to research about crime in the US and especially his home country, Asgard. A large number of people were often attacked by a group called Frost Giants, destroying property, attacking the people, stealing their things and injuring and even killing a lot of them. He was horrified to learn this, especially since the Frost Giants had been around well before he was born/ 

Thor came back home and met with his father and talked with him about what he experienced over there and what he learned. He wanted to learn more about the law and hoped that he would help his home and to soon get rid of the people who was part of this group. Odin was against this as with his failing health, it was possible that he could drop dead any day. The two continued to argue for several hour and by the ends of it, Thor was officially disowned by Odin.

Thor came back to America with the help of his friends and managed to land a visa to live and work there. He joined the police academy and after three months, he graduated and became a cop, hoping to do at least some good while he was in America. 

Bruce & Hulk

Bruce Banner used to be a scientist working for the military, under Lieutenant Thaddeus Ross. He was one of the most well known scientist in the world of gamma radiation. It was tough working for him, especially when it was developing weapons for the military. He has DID with eight personalities that usually didn’t get in the way of his work nor with his relationship with Ross’ daughter, Betty. 

One day, an accident happened in the lab. While Bruce was working in his lab, gamma radiation leaked into the lab and was unaware of what was happening until he collapsed. One of his colleagues found him not long after and he was sent to the hospital for radiation poisoning. Only it wasn’t an accident.

When he recovered, didn’t Bruce start to black out a lot. Throughout most of these black outs, lots of stuff belonging from the lab began to disappear. Soon enough, the thefts was pinned on him. Bruce tried to proclaimed his innocence but that it was pretty much useless. He ran away after shedding a tearful goodbye to Betty and another friend Rick, who was also part of the accident.

He was on the run for several years, with Banner being able to meet and communicate with his other personalities and learn more about what had been happening when he would black out. It was mainly one personality that would largely remain in control of his body when he blacked out. One of simple by angry personality that couldn’t care less about beating someone up to declare dominance and the strength. This personality was named Hulk.

Over the years, Bruce and Hulk finally learned about who actually stole all of the equipment. It was by a egotistical janitor, Samuel Sterns, who sabotage the whole project because he hated Bruce. Bruce ran into Sterns numerous times throughout his time on the run and was almost killed by him as he was also infected by the gamma radiation.

He was caught and arrested by both Natasha and Clint.he was locked away for many months with an old friend named Doctor Samson, a psychologist who was tasked by the military to learn what happened to the missing weapons and to, hopefully, get rid of the other personalities. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, that is when the breakout occurred and Samson was seriously injured.

#avengers earth's mightiest heroes #avengers emh #AEMH #Janet Van Dyne #Hank Pym #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanov #T'Challa #Thor Odinson #bruce banner #hulk #my posts

[retrodaft]

It’s late at night but I’m spilling out some thoughts ( just an opinion)

I know that SW / tcw /tbb fans were getting emotional when, the Empire destroyed Tapoca city. But for me the first thought that came up was, good riddance. In the clone wars series they have the clones says it’s the closest thing to a home.

But you will not get same vide if you read Repcomm , many don’t have nice memories, ( many were beating up) and at one point the commandos mention a rumor about a Whole Group ( don’t remember number) of clones destroyed because they didn’t have 20/20 vision. You were born in that place and could put down before the war started because you didn’t meet the standards.

I wish I could have the same feelings as other fans or be more invested into the bad batch but the just didn’t do it for me. The emotional points didn’t hit me, like I should feel sad for Crosshair at the end.

But if it were me, I shoot him. I’m just thinking about the future , he already try to shoot at us. And if I had a child that he try to have shoot at, then doesn’t want to come back already made up his mind. Then I just end it now than having him come back to be a future problem/danger.

I think the other reason why I couldn’t get as invested ( besides not caring for the concept ) was for a show called the bad batch, it becomes less about the squad and becomes another attempt at a wolf and cub story.

I guess I was hoping that the show would bring more characterization and personality to get me liking the characters. Which it was close to, I like Tech and Echo’s banter ( wish we could see how they got to that point) but less than half way through the season we get the wolf and cub story.

I don’t expect anyone to agree on this part but… out of the whole squad Hunter has the weakest personality. He is just the leader there’s not much else ( heck if I’m being fair Boss has the same issue but even then the game gives him a lot of good one liners and banter with the rest of Delta squad to give you an idea)

I can’t help but think the writing team slapped the dad label on him to give someone character. Which is not to say the I don’t like Omega, I’m happy to have another female character that can have growth and a adventure. But I would have prefer for her to be introduced later in the season or in season two. Because it takes away so much screen time from the actual bad batch.

After watching the season, out of the squad I began to like Tech,( besides Echo) but I don’t like his voice or design. Dude looks like 30 year old white office worker, who’s already balding. I can picture him sitting at the cubicle typing away. Augh

Edit/ I really wished we got to see more of Wrecker and Crosshair , there’s potential to this duo. It’s disappointing we get to see a little of it. I feel, if the first season focus on bad batch or how they were ( before order 66) maybe I may have giving a shit about Crosshair. Because at least we could have seen how this duo interact give some characteristics so there’s some build up to Crosshair’s decision.

Speaking of miss opportunity it would have been interesting if the writing into why Crosshair didn’t like Omega. Like obviously he thinks she is taking his spot on the team, but also her bond with Wrecker would have been interesting to examine as that could have also been the reason. The brotherhood he had with Wrecker is now gone, ( cuz he joined the Empire) and Wrecker becomes a big brother to Omega.

#starwars #the bad batch #just some thoughts #I don’t expect anyone to agree it’s just an opinion #tbb #back on my bullshit #delete later maybe #the clone wars #wtf I should be sleeping #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb fans deserve better than what they got #I think the writing is the weakest thing #that and relies on too many cameos

[jessiebanethedragon]

Grecian Juniper (Hunter x reader)

this was a request that came in as a message, not tagged becasue i’m not sure if they wanna be annon or not but love ya’ll either way! 

oxoxox jessie

You had to admit, this time you’d out done yourself. Swinging your lightsaber around as it deactivates leaving the feeling of bubbling pride in your chest. Was this technically an abuse of your abilities? Maybe. But Crosshair has been an ass since you last left base, and it was time for a little payback. Thus bringing you to this moment of a perfectly sculpted “I ❤️Hutts” onto the backplate of his armour. Yes, your lightsaber had many uses indeed. 

Working with Clone Force 99 did have its perks, Tech, Wrecker and Echo were lovely. Reuniting with the trooper after the techno union was a flurry of tears, happiness and a vow from you to never leave your best friend's side again. And then there was the sergeant. With his tousled hair, tattooed face, and a voice that had you buckling at the knees every time he said your name. Hunter made being a jedi very difficult. 

“He’s gonna be pissed.” The man in question said, walking past your work of art as he re-ties the red bandana. 

“He was such a nerf herder all flight.” You say with a sigh, still exhausted from having to put up with a very moody Crosshair. Your cheeks flush when you hear Hunter chuckle in agreement.

“Maybe so, but you know he’s going to be one hundred times worse now.” Hunter calls to you over his shoulder as he wanders  into the cockpit and away from your shenanigans. Leaving you to force down the warm fuzzies in your chest and hide the childish smile on your face. 

“Kriffing Jedi!!” Your face falls when you hear the shouting from inside the  Havoc Marauder. The four of you are standing plantside on Kashyyyk for a recon mission, waiting for the sniper outside in the fresh air. Tech narrows his eyes at you while you suppress a small giggle. 

“I have no idea what he is talking about.” You say, hoping to cover your tracks. 

“Sure, as if you’re the order's golden child.” Echo scoffs with a smile, he may look different still, colour slowly returning to his face and hair that's now lighter, but the smile is still his. Telltale domino squad smirks and laughter that take you back to the barracks late at night. 

“SARGE!” You hear Crosshair shout as he stops down the landing pad, armour in one hand and a furious look on his face. Hunter sidesteps the angry sniper as he beelines for you, shoving the plate into your face. Wrecker catches a glimpse and doubles over in laughter, tech and Echo lean on each other to giggle off to the side. 

“Oh woah, looks like it got scratched…” You say, dramatically pretending to be shocked. Murmuring about how it could've happened and looking over to any of your friends for help. 

“You’re going to regret this.” Crosshair seethes out through his heaving breath. 

“I didn’t do anything!” you exclaim, still playing dumb. “I was with Hunter!” You gesture to the sergeant hoping he will cover for you. He turns away not wanting to be involved, but you catch the smallest of smiles. 

“Oh you wish.” Crosshair spits, side eyeing the leader of the Bad Batch. All at once, you stop smiling. 

“And what's that supposed to mean.” You grit out. He wouldn't. Crosshair wouldn't. Of course the sniper knows about your feelings, he’s too damn clever, but even he knows there's lines. And this is definitely one of them. 

“Maybe if you weren't so hopelessly in love with him you wouldn't be such a bitc-”

“Crosshair!” Hunter shouts, louder and angrier than you’ve ever heard him, “Stand. Down.” with one last look at your shocked face, tears beginning to form in your eyes, his face softens. He knows he’s gone too far, unknowing of how deep the feelings really went. 

“Ca'tra…” He begins an apology, the use of the nickname, your nickname of the brilliant night sky, shakes you out of your trance. And without another thought, you take off into the dense forest. 

You run until the panting breaths are because of physical exertion and not a panic attack. You decide that it's unlikely Hunter will report you,so your rank as a Jedi won't be ruined. Explaining the sudden need for a transfer will be harder to pull off. 

And then there's Echo. you promised not to leave him, ergo you have to stay with the Bad Batch. You’re so unbelievably screwed it’s almost funny. The air is almost still in this part of the forest, trees packed next to one another. Green melting into green as leaves interconnect and block out the sun. 

Let go of your feelings. 

Logic of your Jedi master rings in your ears, but the anxiety seems to be louder today. Just thinking about going back to the ship brings tears to your eyes. But it is inevitable, so perhaps you’ll swallow the rising bile, grit your teeth and just deal with it. 

“Ca’tra!” Echo’s call resonates through the forest, he must have been the one to take off after you, your heart falls knowing it’s not Hunter. Then again, you  never held out much hope for requited feelings anyways. 

“Ca’tra!” That's Tech’s voice, great now you’ve got two commandos trying to track you down. And considering you’re not ready to face anyone yet, you turn on your heel to take off again. Coming face to face with the blunt grey plastoid of the sergeants armour. You jump back with a soft gasp.

“Senses need re-tuning?” Hunter asks with a raised eyebrow, you're rarely caught off guard. You open your mouth but the vocal cords don’t seem to co-operate, so instead you’re left to stand and gape. Eyes flickering to him for the smallest of moments before finding comfort looking at his boots rather than his face. 

“You know he’s a shit.” Hunter says, filling the silence with small talk. expecting some smart reply and a smile from you.  Instead You shift your weight from foot to foot and pick at the dirt on your clothing. You hear him clear his throat with a cough, but you still don’t look at him, transfixed by the ground, picking at the dirt on your hands now. Maybe a little too aggressively as his hand comes to pull it away from your reddening skin. 

“You’ll hurt yourself.” He states, flipping your smaller, softer hands around, looking for other irritated areas. Thumbing each one over gently with a huff of disapproval before his switches to your other hand. Giving it the same treatment. 

“Need to take better care of yourself.” He murmurs as he finds a particular bad spot. Watching as you move your head to stare and a new patch of ground off to the side. 

“ ‘Kay you’re starting to scare me Ca’tra, say something.” Your heart hops a little at the sound of genuine worry in his voice. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, it’s the easiest thing to say. 

“You don’t need to be.” Hunter’s deep voice hums, as his hand makes it way to your elbow, coaxing you out of the hunched position you didn't even realize you’d gone into. 

“Doesn't matter.” you sigh, looking up at the sky letting the tears fall back into your eyes. 

“It does to me.” He tells you firmly. Rough but warm fingers pull your face to meet his, so you squish your eyes closed. Funny how the instincts take over - if you can't see it, it’s not there.

“Don’t like seeing you upset.” Hunter moves his hand, sensing he overstepped. The other refuses to move from your elbow though. 

“Sorry.” you whisper again, letting out a shaky breath unsure if his presence is helping  or making it all worse. 

“I care about you.” He admits slowly, not to you specifically, but to the greenery around the two of you, like he’s not really talking  to you at all, but you’re still able to hear him. 

“It’s not the same.” You say quickly, trying to escape the conversation that’s about to happen. You know the difference between caring about someone and loving them, and the last thing you want is for him to tell you that.

“Yes it is.” He says it so quickly, you think he didn’t even mean to say it out loud. Hunter’s dark hair is falling around the bandana as he looks at you, backpack forgotten in his rush to find you, senses as ignored as they can be. Gently touching your foreheads together, he repeats himself.  “Yes. it is.” the smallest panicked noise escapes you as you breathe, closing  your eyes  as his other hand comes to grasp your neck softly. While the one on your elbow sneaks it’s way to your waist. As gentle as possible.  

He’s giving you a chance to run. Your brain realizes with shock. Hunter is giving you a chance to turn and bolt again. Exposing himself  in the only way he knows how, eyes closed, gentle touches, and the opportunity to pull away from hands that have never known love. 

Except this time, you don't want to run. 

The sigh of relief that leaves him when you wrap your arms around his neck is monumental. And immediately his hold tightens, crushing you into the armour in a desperate attempt to feel your warmth through the cold metal. One hand grips your tunic with all his strength and the other buries itself in your hair. 

You press your face into the gap where tan skin disappears under the top of his blacks. Feeling the prickles where scruff is growing in, and if you try hard enough, maybe you feel where his tattoo starts. 

“What are we going to do?” You cry into his shoulder, this isn't allowed. The two of  you are breaking every rule imaginable. Jedi attachment, Clone attachment, internal fraternization, breaking orders, disobeying line of command, and probably about a million more. 

“It’s okay ner cayre.” He says stealing the anxiety driven breaths with a kiss sweeter than spice. 

“I've got you.” 

#the clone wars #clones #clone wars #clone wars x reader #clone wars x you #the clone wars x reader #clone wars x y/n #clone wars x #clone x reader #clone x jedi #the clones x reader #clones x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch x reader #star wars: the bad batch #bad batch x reader platonic