I’ve bitten the bullet and officially posted the first chapter of my first Bad Batch fanfic!! It basically started life as me watching the Umbara arc and in response to one line going “what would happen if the Bad Batch had to work with Krell” and now it’s taken on a life of its own… Anyway go have fun it’s gonna be chaos and messy and I’ve had to be REALLY quiet with the tags because I don’t want to spoil it!!
Cannon Fodder - me_4eva (read on AO3)
"I've seen it before. Some clones are just... defective. They aren't able to succumb to authority."
Early into their deployment, the Bad Batch are brought in to a dangerous mission to breach a secret Separatist base with a notorious Jedi general to recover an undercover operative. However, as it becomes painfully apparent that nothing is what it seems, where they are left with more questions than answers, it becomes clear that they've been caught in the middle of a deadly game of espionage, and they must use every skill in their arsenal to escape the planet with their lives.
Excerpt under the cut!
Chapter 1: The Best Option
There was only one thought in the mind of Commander Cody, Marshall Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, as the modified Omicron-class attack shuttle docked with its usual flair in the hangar on board The Negotiator.
Why did this have to be the best option?
They were a full rotation later than he’d hoped for, though the small starfighter magnetised to the clamp on the underside of their ship indicated yet another mission success. Not that any of that would matter.
This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea. Why was this the best idea that anyone had? And why, why, did Commander Cody have to be the one in charge of brokering it?
Cody tried to hitch a smile onto his face as the ramp lowered, but any attempt at a smile dropped to be replaced by the growing sense of dread reaching new lows in his stomach as the four of them emerged.
Every single one of them was covered in muck.
Nope. Surely there must be another option.
Why was there not another option?
The four members of Clone Force Ninety-Nine reached the bottom of their shuttle and removed their helmets, and Cody felt that pit in his stomach reach rock bottom somewhere in his pelvis. It was clear that with the exception of Tech, they had all at least seen the inside of a sonic, not that this did anything for the smell of… swamp… that still clung to their armour. Tech still had dirt around his eyes where the gap in his helmet for his goggles left exposed skin. Hunter looked tired, not even bothering to smile, fine lines around his eyes and at the bridge of his nose indicating a tension that probably denoted a headache. Cody had either forgotten just how vicious Crosshair’s signature scowl could be or else Crosshair was at an entirely new level of grumpy. Only Wrecker seemed to be anywhere close to his best form, his hair clean and tidy in the regulation style of clones, and Cody knew well enough that when Wrecker was the least objectionable member of the squad, Clone Force Ninety-Nine was not going to make friends with the brass easily.
Which, unfortunately, was exactly what Cody needed them to do.
“You’re late,” Cody said by way of greeting, matching their complete lack of warmth with his own.
Crosshair huffed. “You can blame them.”
Oh good. Crosshair was in a bad mood.
“We were tasked with retrieving an experimental prototype,” Tech said shortly. “We have retrieved it. Things might have gone slightly more to plan if we had appropriated our resources better, as I suggested.” His eyes narrowed dangerously to flick between Hunter and Crosshair.
Even better. Tech was also in a bad mood. An insufferable, know-it-all-and-yet-nobody-listened mood which meant that he was probably going to be matching his brothers’ energy with a litany of ‘I told you so’s. Which sounded like it was well underway.
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stow it, Tech.”
“You only have yourself to blame for the onset of your migraine. I did warn you that ion cannons, modified, experimental, or otherwise, would exacerbate your senses-”
“And you’re making the migraine worse, so stow it, Tech.”
Oh perfect. Hunter had a migraine.
“I’m sure I’ll read all about it in your report,” Cody said, only a hint of sarcasm as he glanced at Hunter. “In the meantime, you need to come with me. You’re late for a mission briefing.”
“Already?” Wrecker asked, falling into step behind Cody as he led the way down the corridor. “We just got here.”
“If you wish for Crosshair’s mood to improve, I would suggest leaving him here to catch up on sleep while we attend the briefing-”
“I was in that karking tree for four rotations!”
“Of a moon with a shorter rotation cycle than galactic standard, so as I mentioned, it was probably closer to two and a half-”
“With no sleep!”
“A predicament that you volunteered for,” Tech finished shortly. “And I’m sure you dozed, and given that you slept the entire flight back, I fail to see why you are still being quite so insufferable.”
“Six hours is not the same as four-”
“-Two and a half-”
“-rotations-”
“Enough!”
Stars help him, Cody would quite happily send them to the brig if they were not literally his only option. The pit in his stomach that had reached rock bottom started digging.
“You are soldiers!” Cody hissed as he wheeled around to face them. “You represent the Grand Army of the Republic, so, deviant or defective as you call yourselves, try and have some discipline!”
Cody rarely needed to read anyone the riot act. Respected enough in the GAR for his rank and with a reputation that preceded him, he almost never needed to lose his temper. He had worked with General Kenobi long enough to know how to conjure discipline with nothing more than a tone slightly firmer than usual, and had worked in tandem with General Skywalker to judge when to bother and when to let it go. Such outbursts were reserved only for the most unruly shinies who had not encountered his reputation, and were usually met by the shinies standing bolt-upright and, in at least one occasion, a loss of bladder control.
However, these were no ordinary shinies. The self-christened Bad Batch did manage to shut up, but mostly looked surprised rather than appropriately chagrined with a small dose of the fear of whatever deity they’d decided to stay on the right side of. Cody felt himself deflating slightly at the lack of his own surprise at their reaction as Hunter simply favoured Cody with an incredulous smile.
“‘Discipline’?” Hunter echoed, as though the word was normally entirely foreign to a group of shiny commandos when talking to one of the most senior ranking officers in the GAR. Though, then again, perhaps part of that was on Cody for expecting such a thing.
Cody shot him a look that he hoped communicated how serious he was being. “Yes, Sergeant. Get your men in line. And… and… really?” He couldn’t quite stop himself as he looked them all over pointedly. “You couldn’t have bothered to clean your armour at any point on your six-hour flight?”
He saw the four of them exchanging a look as he turned around, but tried not to care too much as footsteps resumed behind him.
“Not arguing with you that they were out of line, but – late? Discipline? Clean armour?” Hunter dared to put a hand on Cody’s arm to stop him. “What’s this about, Cody? What’s going on?”
Cody sighed as he let himself be stopped. “Your next mission involves working with a Jedi,” he said. “And he’s one of the most by-the-book Generals in the GAR. He’s not going to react well to you being… well…”
“…us?” Wrecker supplied.
Cody favoured him with a rue smile and a slight nod. “So, at the very least… just try to… at least pretend… to be professional…”
He turned around and began leading the way again.
“Sir, yes, sir,” Crosshair muttered sarcastically as the footsteps behind him continued. Cody pretended not to hear.
It was Omega’s idea. Crosshair didn’t want to be in it but Hunter made him (which saved his reputation when he realised he couldn’t say no to her…)
First time doing a background on Procreate, you can tell by the wildly inconsistent level of detail on the tree as I learned more and more about blending. However I’m never doing that ever again that shadowy part took forever…
There is however some extra space in the family portrait so if there is anyone you think should join/be bullied into the photo (eg Phee, Rex, Fives etc) let me know in the comments! No promises though…
Part 5 of drawing the Bad Batch in the one art style I’ve even remotely consistently been able to do, today we have bug-eyed Echo!! (Part 5/at least 4…)
I am at least going to draw Omega as well and while the costuming of this series has been completely inconsistent, I’m feeling her season 2 look…
Rounding out the initial plan to draw the OG bad batch in the one art style I can semi consistently do to make a cover image, we have bug-eyed Wrecker (part 4/at least 4)!
Day 3 of drawing the bad batch in the one art style I can consistently draw to make a group picture of them all for my profile cover, today we have bug-eyed Crosshair (part 3/at least 4)!
He doesn’t want to be in the picture but Hunter’s making him.
Drawing the Bad Batch in the one art style I can sorta do consistently, today we have bug-eyed Hunter (part 2/at least 4):
I did my absolute best to preserve his slutty little waist. Also drawing a half-face tattoo on an art style where the appeal is that he straight up doesn’t have a face was an interesting thing to figure out…
Cannon Fodder - me_4eva - Chapter 6: All Of Us Or None Of Us (read on AO3)
The next chapter of Cannon Fodder is up! Feat. excessive use of emdashes that AI can pry from my cold dead body and possibly my favourite author's note to date ever, Wrecker's POV is back and he, like everyone else, is just having a really bad day. I have been agonising over it for over a month and I FINALLY figured out exactly how I wanted to do this properly, and you all have the Zuko Alone episode from ATLA to thank for it. Excerpt, as always, under the cut!
Wrecker stared at his brother’s retreating back for a heartbeat, letting his pace falter. But as Hunter’s gaze still lingered on him, their Sergeant’s own pace slowing almost enough to warrant a comment from Krell, Wrecker gave a small nod and carried on. They had a job to do. They were all on the same side.
Don’t come crying to me when you get the rest of us killed –
Wrecker shook his head like a hound, trying to stop his brother’s words bouncing around his head. Or sledgehammering around his head like a wrecking ball… Wrecker knew Crosshair would never have taken to Krell, even without Tech providing a million reasons in their short time he’d had before the mission to find said reasons, but – but –
There is so much more going on than you have any idea about…
Wrecker pushed back his helmet, trying to ease the gnawing anxiety that swirled in his stomach, all too familiar and all too unwelcome. He was, contrary to popular opinion, not an idiot. He had known that something was going on. Hunter had pushed a little too hard to go to the array the previous evening. Tech had been too closed-off the night before about not waking him for his watch for the subsequent undisturbed sleep to have been much of a surprise. Crosshair had been very ready to cover for Tech after being woken, though that wasn’t exactly unusual on its own – Crosshair was always ready to cover for them with any external commander about anything, from sleep orders to ‘borrowed’ starfighters that may have been returned without certain important elements. But, in the wider context, Crosshair’s covering for Tech was only further evidence that there was going on between the three of them to which Wrecker was not privy.
What he’d not clocked was that it was something he probably should have been aware of.
It wasn’t unusual for Wrecker to be left out of things like this. He knew his place on the squad. He was their bruiser, their demolitions expert. If something needed blowing up, he was their first port of call. If there was some complicated strategy that needed concocting, however, that was Tech’s department. Wrecker knew this. He was fine with this. He didn’t push the issue – the one time he’d tried, he’d found himself on the receiving end of a ten-minute long presentation of possibly the most convoluted plan he’d ever heard, and had gotten lost and tuned out less than a minute in. He’d resigned himself to the fact that there were some things he didn’t need to know. Some things he couldn’t help with. All he could do was be the most reliable, trustworthy, dependable version of himself, so that when they called upon him, he was the best resource he could be. That was what his brothers needed him to be.
Which was why it was all the more surprising to have Crosshair rounding on him for simply not knowing what he hadn’t been told.
He was fine with not being told things. But the way his breath suddenly felt inadequate, his chest a little too small to hold his lungs, was a sickeningly familiar feeling. Like he couldn’t call for them. Like they wouldn’t hear. Like they wouldn’t listen –
He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, clinging to the locks of hair as his heartrate wouldn’t slow. That all-too-familiar anxiety seeped into his chest as he watched the backs of Crosshair, too angry to talk to. Tech, his shoulders rounded, focusing only on what was ahead of him, not even his datapad. Hunter, too close to Krell to have any kind of meaningful conversation. The sand scratched at his eyes, his corneas feeling raw as the sight before him almost disappeared into the haze.
The yawning chasm between Wrecker and his brothers was only growing as Wrecker stood there, trying to catch his breath. He flipped his helmet back down, and trudged after them under Obar Major’s sun.
This is your reminder to have fun with your author’s notes. I’m putting the finishing touches on the next chapter of my fic Cannon Fodder, where I’ve been writing my notes as entries from Tech’s databank, and let’s just say the author’s note on the upcoming chapter has actually made me cackle like a rabid kookaburra…
(Full credit for the idea actually comes from my days in the Stranger Things fandom where MrsEvadneCake did it flawlessly years ago in their fic In A Strange Land - just to give praise where it’s due!)
