Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.
Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.
Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.
Hope you like it!
Xx,
Sky.
"SEE YOU TOMORROW"
CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖
WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.
Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.
It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.
Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.
You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.
A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.
On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.
You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.
You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.
He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.
You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.
You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.
"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"
There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.
"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.
They all look a little tipsy too.
You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.
"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.
"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.
After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.
"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"
Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.
"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".
His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.
"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".
This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...
"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.
You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.
"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.
Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.
You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.
The thought makes you giggle a bit.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.
He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.
It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.
You sigh with a smile.
"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"
Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.
Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.
"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.
Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.
"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.
Hunter hummed.
"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.
None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.
"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".
Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.
Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.
"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.
Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.
Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.
"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.
Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.
"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".
Crosshair smirked.
"I'll risk it".
He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.
THE END.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)
Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!
Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)
Stay tunned!
Xx,
Sky.
Back to masterlist here:
CODE: 🔥 = smutt or sensual // 💖 = fluff // 💔 = angst or violence // 📩 = request or prompt
REBLOG if you can!
REQUESTS/PROMPTS! = CLOSE
Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.
THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.
No warnings for this, just world building... welcome lol.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
After approximately 90 rotations aboard the Marauder, give or take a few days, you were ready to disembark.
Tech, of course, calculated the accurate amount of time, but you were running on inner planetary standard time. You were exhausted. Truly and totally exhausted. The battles along the outer rim were beginning to overtake every waking thought, and the war only seemed to be escalating. Even though you were just a medical technician, it seemed like you never had a moment to breathe.
The boys had been sent on one mission after another to the most backwater planets you’d never even heard of. In the beginning of working with Clone Force 99, you were thrilled.
Tired of being on the front lines with Captain Rex and General Skywalker, you thought this would have been a cakewalk compared to tending to the 501st. (Or as you liked to call them, the most reckless GAR unit in history.) Boy, were you wrong…
Rex assigning you to Clone Force 99 had been one of the most challenging places you think a young medic like yourself could have gone.
These men, in particular, were a unique kind of reckless, and they always seemed to end up in the craziest situations.
That didn’t mean you didn’t come to grow fond of them, but as GAR procedure demands, they must return to Coruscant for their quarterly medical examinations, and you were relieved.
While you didn’t particularly care for the bustle of the high-density planet, you could appreciate not being shot at, chased, or bombed at any given second.
The Marauder also didn’t offer the same level of comfort as the Venator Attack Cruisers you’d become accustomed to staying on for months at a time. But it’s alright, you’ve come to enjoy your time with special force 99.
For a bunch of chaotic Alphas, they were pleasant company.
Sergeant Hunter was the leader and a remarkable tracker. You couldn’t help but marvel at his heightened abilities; it was really interesting from a medical standpoint. Tech had the brain capacity of a supercomputer and his ex-arc trooper friend, Echo. You actually had known Echo from your early days serving under the 501st.
It was nice having him around; he seemed to keep the peace and offered some much-needed familiarity. Then there was Wrecker, the sweetest man-child you’d ever met. He had a love for blowing things up, which you found hilarious, and finally, there was Crosshair. You never really knew where you stood with the man. Echo told you it’s because he’s not used to strangers hanging out with his brothers, but you weren’t quite sure. The Alpha was quiet and calculated. He didn’t miss a thing, not with his heightened reflexes. He never said much to you; he often operated in silence unless it was to piss off Hunter, which seemed to be more often than you realized.
He, however, treated you indifferently. It was just odd for an Alpha to not acknowledge an Omega. Not to say you needed his attention, it was just different. You speculated it had to do with his genetic mutations; maybe he was too good at focusing on his objective. Omegas hardly phased him.
“You ready, Pip?” Wrecker gave your shoulders a gentle shake.
You smiled at the nickname. “Yeah Wreck, ugh I just really want a real shower.” You sighed, getting a little impatient.
The Marauder was waiting for landing clearance while you made quick work stowing away the last few stray supplies. You made notes of all the supplies that had been depleted, which was most of it. You shook your head; you’d be raiding the GAR supply facility before deployment for certain.
“You and me both,” Hunter snorted and settled down in one of the chairs in the cockpit.
Poor guy, you realized, probably had the worst of it all. Living amongst five sweaty dirty men and one medic had his scent on overdrive. Not to mention the dulled pheromones. Being surrounded by so many alphas, the stench was probably awful for him.
You, however, being an omega on the smaller side, couldn’t smell much, not with your implant which was due for replacement this quarter. Hunter never mentioned anything to you about smell. You just hoped it wasn’t too much for him with all of your implants thankfully. It never seemed like an issue for him.
“We’re clear for landing,” Echo chirped from the copilot seat. Everyone came up to the front to strap into the jump seats. Crosshair brought your packed bag up with him and placed it gently under your feet before he took the seat next to you and strapped in. You thanked him, and he gave you a silent nod still chewing on his toothpick.
Echo and Tech gently landed the Marauder in the GAR main hangar bay and finished up the last cross check before disembarking. Wrecker was kind and offered to carry your duffle filled with your civvies and toiletries. You thanked him and followed him out of the Marauder. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you smiled at the feeling of real sun on your skin.
Looking down the steps, you squealed, noticing all of the white and blue plastoid on the other side of the hangar bay. Running at full speed, you nearly tripped over your own feet, flinging yourself at Kix.
He noticed you last minute and swooped you up into his arms, “Hey Tiny! I didn’t know you were on rotation already?” He picked you up and spun you around before putting you down. Your excitement to see your old unit was overwhelming; you couldn’t help but smile as more of your friends on the 501st ran over to give you a hug or a playful shove.
You missed the way Wrecker gawked at your reaction to the Regs. “Well, she certainly doesn’t do that with us,” Tech noted, watching you rub up against the alphas in a comforting manner, purring under their affection.
“Fucking Regs,” Crosshair groused.
Echo remembered how fond you are of the 501st. He remembered when you were a newbie just starting your medical field days bonding with General Tano as teens. He felt a little nostalgic watching you with his vod. He laughed remembering how Ahsoka would scent you before sending you out into the field. They loved you so much.
Tech noted how comfortable you were with their touch and scenting. Something no one in their unit ever attempted with you. Of course, they were aware of your designation, but they tried their hardest to be respectful. Hunter had made it extremely clear no one was supposed to touch you unless necessary. It had been six months of your service on their unit, and no one has ever gotten this close with you except Wrecker, but it wasn’t anything like that.
The alpha in Tech was a little upset by this. Why didn’t the omega feel comfortable with them?
Hunter listened to the way you preened under their attention, and his chest pained a bit hearing your purrs. Was he… jealous? No. That’s his medic, that's all. He had read your file; you’d been with them for most of the war. Of course, that would make you closer. He could smell the happy pheromones you spread from where they were. You were happy with the 501st’s attention; it wasn’t something he knew you craved.
“I’m here for quarterlies,” you tapped your shoulder, “And I’m due for replacement.” You sighed. “Ahh,” Kix smirked, “Difficult enough dealing with us reg alphas huh? Gotta deal with defects now too huh? Got that implant working overtime.”
You rolled your eyes and shoved him.
A cough behind you caught your attention. You spun around to see your unit catching up, looking a little perturbed, especially Crosshair. He’s never warmed up to the Regs and didn’t particularly like you sharing your fond stories about them. You usually keep to yourself in his presence or else he’d get a little hostile.
“Sarge,” Kix greeted with a head tilt.
“Kix,” Hunter gave him a polite nod, “Captain.” He looked beyond you.
You spun around, “Rex!” You ran at him, wrapping yourself around your old captain. “Hey kid,” he laughed, giving you a pat on the head looking down at you.
“I’m older than you, Captain,” you rolled your eyes with a smile.
“So you like to remind me,” he laughed, suddenly realizing how much he had missed you.
You stepped back with a huge smile. Suddenly everything was starting to feel good again. 90 rotations didn’t seem so terrible anymore. You giggled as they all filed in demanding to know how you’ve been.
“We’re heading to 79’s later,” Jesse smiled, “You gotta come Y/N. I wanna hear about your adventures to the outer rim.”
“Especially me,” Fives trotted forwards shoving you playfully aside before embracing his brother Echo, “Vod!” He hugged Echo tight. Echo relaxed into his hug and gave him a curt smile. “How you doing?” Fives asked, wrapping his arm around Echo’s shoulder before walking off with him towards the barracks to no doubt catch up.
“I got a replacement due,” you sighed, “I can’t drink but I’ll stop by for a bit to catch up!”
They all seemed to light up at that, “See you there, kid!” Captain Rex gave you a nod and turned on his heel to get back to work and make sure the General’s Venator was getting proper maintenance.
“C’mon, Pip,” Hunter was leading the others towards the medical campus for their quarterlies.
You huffed, “Coming, Sarge.”
“Pip?” You heard the others laugh a bit at your new nickname when you trailed off behind your new unit. Damn their long legs you were struggling to hold pace with them.
Crosshair gave you an incredulous look watching you try to catch up. You gave it right back to him.
“Miss your precious Regs?” He sneered. You didn’t miss the way Tech’s shoulders stiffened. Wrecker and Hunter pretended not to hear, but you knew they did. You suddenly missed having Echo as your defense.
“What?” You looked at him.
“You heard me,” he growled.
“Of course I missed my old unit. I haven’t seen them in six standard months, Crosshair.”
“That all?” He was cold.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You stopped and crossed your arms forcing him to stop walking.
Crosshair pointed his toothpick at you, “Throwing yourself at a bunch of alphas like a bitch in hea-”
“Enough!” Hunter growled.
Your cheeks burned red. How dare he. You looked to Wrecker and then Tech but the looks on their faces didn’t exactly show any support for you. Did they agree?…Maker. Wrecker lowered his gaze which surprised you the most.
Crosshair never really said much to you besides if you asked him an immediate question about his health or an injury. He usually somewhat avoided you. But you never thought he disliked you, at least up until now. The disgust was obvious on his face.
You just shook your head and continued stalking towards the medical campus, ignoring Hunter’s call. Your shore-leave was becoming more and more desirable by the second. You wanted space especially from Mr. dark and gloomy.
Deciding you’ve had enough of them, you detoured for your department entrance leaving them to go into the main medical campus alone. You knew Tech had all of your reports stowed on his datapad records. They would survive without you at least for now. You thought you heard Wrecker whimper behind you, but the sound of ion engines priming drowned out the rest before you stepped inside the medic clinic. Fuck Crosshair. What a dickhead.
You shook your head knowing you had other things to focus on besides his stupid little attitude.
Passing through multiple security clearances, you stepped into the sterile clinic’s main lobby.
“Medic Y/L/N?” You heard a familiar soft voice.
“Hi Layla.” You smiled sweetly at the nurse who you came to know during your training program. Being an omega, she opted to stay on base instead of venturing out into the battle fronts she was definitely more gentle mannered than yourself. You preferred some action and excitement.
“In for your quarterly’s?”
"Yeah, and I need a new replacement implant," you muttered as you trailed behind Layla toward one of the deserted exam rooms. The clinical white walls felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the chaotic memories you shared here. You reminisced about your early days serving the GAR, where Layla and you tended to wounded soldiers and even brushed shoulders with the occasional Jedi. But that was before you were transferred to General Skywalker’s unit, thrust into the heart of battle and endless repairs for him and his Padawan. You missed the simplicity of those days, the camaraderie with Layla.
”How’s the 501st treating you?" Layla's voice broke through your reverie as she handed you a crumpled paper gown.
"I got transferred to Special Forces 99," you replied, shedding your uniform behind the flimsy curtain. "They’re a different breed, that's for sure."
"Clone Force 99?" Layla's eyebrows rose in curiosity.
“Yeah.” you confirmed, feeling a flicker of amusement at her reaction.
As Layla chewed on her pen, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes. "The Sergeant’s pretty hot."
Your cheeks flushed, and you nearly stumbled over your words before recovering. “Layla…” You gawked.
She giggled and sat down on her roller stool. "Don’t lie and say you’ve never thought about it."
Well, obviously you’ve thought about it. They’re all honestly pretty hot, but you’d never admit that out loud.
"Now where have you seen Hunter like that?" you giggled at her cheekiness.
"I watch the holonet streams every once in a while. Especially after the retrieval on Skako Minor, General Skywalker and Sergeant CT-9901 were all over the holonet for weeks," she mused. "An omega’s wet dream."
You screamed and threw your boot at her. You two looked at each other momentarily before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Man, you missed Layla. Honestly, you just missed having another girl to talk to. This was such a refresher from the overwhelming amount of Alpha.
You hopped up on the table, lying down, trying to get comfortable.
"What’s he like?" her tone shifted into mischief.
You hesitated, memories of Hunter flooding your mind. "He’s… different. Polite, I guess."
Layla raised an eyebrow, her expression demanding the truth. “Girl…” she slapped your shoulder, grabbing her scanner to document your entire system from head to toe.
"Well, I don’t know!" you put your hands up in defense. "He’s quite the gentleman. None of them so much as look, Layla, I swear."
She just looked at you with a raised brow while she continued her work, “Yeah right.”
"But…" you smirked, watching her work, "I do know the tattoos go to his feet…" you bit your lip.
Now it was her turn to choke. "You’re lying…" Her interest was piqued.
You shook your head. "Full skeleton all the way down his arm, ribs, thigh…"
You two sighed.
She finished her scan and input the data before sliding her roller chair right next to you. "Everywhere?"
You raised a brow. "Everywhere," you confirmed with a nod.
She put her hand over her chest in a dramatic manner before prepping the numbing agent for your implant.
You remembered the day you found out this information about your Sergeant. Up until this point, you’d only seen maybe an arm or some knuckles in your medical repairs, but this time Hunter had taken a pretty bad hit to his side and thigh. Multiple blaster wounds had torn him up, and Tech had helped him limp back to the ship before they both collapsed on the floor. You had flung yourself out of your bunk at the commotion only to realize what had happened.
Tech helped you tear off Hunter’s armor and helmet, trying to figure out where the wounds were. Luckily, they hadn’t gone through, and it was mostly just surface wounds, but you still had to cut through his blacks to get to it, leaving his entire left side exposed. He had growled at you, but Tech had set him straight. He was just in pain.
That’s when you realized his entire left side was tattooed like his face, all the way down to his feet. You mumbled a quick apology before starting your cleaning process and bacta application.
The wounds had healed up nicely, but he had to re-tattoo the fresh skin the next time they had shore-leave. You had also stowed away the information of how muscular he was. The man was truly a work of art.
A sharp jab snapped you out of your memories when Layla removed the old suppressor implant. You yelped when the new one went in, making you a bit dizzy with pain. You hissed when she retracted the mechanism.
"There we go," she beamed. "Good as new."
"Thanks, Layla," you said, sitting up, letting her bandage the small incision wound with a bacta patch. The soothing coldness was immediate. You sighed in relief as the pain dulled.
"I told Rex I’d be at 79’s later, if you want to come?" you offered, slipping from the table to give her a hug.
"As much as I’d love to play with the captain, I have so much work to catch up on for quarterly's. I better stay here," she sighed, pushing her chair back into place. "But you have fun, and enjoy your time off. Come back to visit if you get bored."
You giggled. "I will." And with that, she left you to change back into your uniform before leaving the medic’s clinic. The hangar bay was significantly more empty now as you made your way over to civilian transport. After exiting the security checkpoint, you made your way over to the clone transport. "Can you take me to residential?" you asked the officer in the pilot’s seat. He gave you a nod, and you settled back into the transport’s seats. With a sigh, you were finally starting to relax a bit. You knew the boys were probably already back at their barracks after their examinations, so you knew they wouldn’t be bothering you for at least a few rotations.
When you finally arrived to the GAR residential building you gave the driver a thanks before hoping out and skipping over to the front door. You couldn’t wait to get to your quarters and enjoy a long hot shower. Swiping your clearance card, you dashed into the elevator to your floor and into your room. It smelled like you needed to open a window but other then that is was just as you left it. Knowing you’d have to get some food delivered, you gave a dramatic sigh while kicking off your regulation boots. You went to unzip your uniform top when you heard the swish of clothing and a familiar scoff.
You turned suddenly seeing Crosshair standing in your kitchen in his civvies looking tall and menacing.
“Maker! Crosshair!” You put a hand on your chest, “You scared me!”
“Sorry little one.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
You looked around suddenly remembering you’re in YOUR apartment.
“What the hell are you doing here Crosshair?” You narrowed your gaze at him getting mad all over again.
“Hunter is making me apologize for earlier.” He grumbled around his toothpick.
You hummed, “How did you get in here?”
He held up the Sergeant’s entry card. Of course… dammit Hunter.
“Here.” He slid your duffle across the floor to you. A peace offering. You were grateful for that at least.
A deep pang in your shoulder made you grimace “Thanks.” You unzipped your uniform top leaving you in your bindings not caring if he looked. He didn’t seem phased anyways. The bacta patch stained red with your blood. He narrowed his eyes to the incision. You knelt down to your duffle and pulled out your field kit. You grabbed a dose of pain killer and brought the injector up to the wound site. You pressed the mechanism and the needle stabbed you quickly injecting the medicine. You rolled your shoulder and replaced the bacta patch seeing the wound turning to a simple line. Soon it would be gone in a few hours.
“So?” You looked at the tall sniper.
He lifted a brow.
You crossed your arms, “Your apology?”
He snorted and stood up straight before walking past you.
“Sorry.” He mumbled before stepping back out into the hallway and disappearing.
You sighed knowing that was all you’re going to get from the grumpy soldier. Whatever, you’d take it.
~~~
The shower that followed was worth it. You had never felt so clean in your few years in this universe. The piping hot water cleansed you of three standard months of sweat, bomb residue, and blood. You scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin flared red before you stepped out of the shower to get ready. Throwing on your favorite civvies and some makeup, you quickly dried your hair before throwing on your regulation boots. Grabbing your com and a few credits. You practically skipped out of your apartment making a beeline for 79’s. You couldn’t wait to catch up with your old friends.
When you arrived, you heard an uproar of men yelling your name. You looked over to see Fives, Jesse, Kix, and the others wave you over.
“Tiny!” You got tackled by Fives. He put you in a headlock and ruffled your hair despite your cries. You shoved him off of you knowing he must have scented you in the process.
“Ugh! Fives you reek.” You scrunched your nose smelling the alpha on him it was stronger then usual.
“Sorry tiny.” He laughed rubbing the back of his neck, “We gotta get our implants replaced too.”
You shook your head and plopped down in the booth next to Kix with a laugh. He shoved the snack plate in your face continuing his conversation with another soldier to his right. You were starving and started munching down on the mantell mix.
“Hope that wont be a problem kid.” Rex smiled at you.
You just yanked your collar down to show them the patch, “All good captain.”
That made them relax. The 501st is many things, but they were always chivalrous towards you. Being their favorite omega and all, they had always taken a very protective stance with you. None of them tried anything and they had always kept away the creeps. You were thankful for their protection.
Your current hoard of alphas though, you didn’t really know where you stood with them. They kind of pretended like you weren’t there. You quickly realized they weren’t used to working with strangers, and an omega of all things. At first they treated you like a fragile little thing. Like they were worried they’d step on you. They couldn’t help but stare. You didn’t really blame them. Eventually it wore off and they seemed to become a bit more comfortable with your presence. Until it became normal. Except Crosshair, he never seemed to warm up to you and kept you at arms length.
“So how’s your new unit?” Fives asked sounding a bit jealous.
You giggled, “They’re.. nice.”
They all looked at you.
“What?” You shrunk under their looks. Even Rex stared.
“Nice?” Jesse laughed.
“That’s not exactly the word I’d use.” Rex raised a brow, “You’re okay, right kid?”
You opened your mouth in shock, “Guys I’m okay. I swear.”
They visibly relaxed.
“Look, it took some getting used to. I don’t think they’ve ever been around strangers before they’re very close. Clearly. Eventually they warmed up. Except the sniper. I think he might actually not like me.”
Fives just scoffed, “It’s because your’e hot cyar’ika”
Jesse punched him in the stomach. Fives doubled over and everyone at the table grumbled at him. You just felt your cheeks burn up and you hid behind Kix’s shoulder.
“Fives…” Rex sighed.
“What?” He choked out, “I’m just saying. I don’t think those defects have been anywhere near a woman much less an omega. Aye!” He blocked Jesse’s punch again.
“What omega?” You heard a gruff voice approach.
It was Commander Wolffe and the pack still in uniform. Rex got up and clapped him on the shoulder getting him settled in. He placed his helmet on the table and peered over at you.
“I don’t think we’ve met cyar’ika.” He grinned at you showing off his scar and grey iris.
You felt your heart rate increase under his intense stare. You could tell this alpha was seasoned, first generation from the looks of him. You were certain that if you didn’t have your implant, you'd be keening for his attention. Instead, you submissively lowered your gaze and leaned into Kix a bit. He wrapped an arm around you and looked up at the Commander, saying, “This is Y/N; we call her Tiny.” He shook you playfully, adding, “She used to be our medic. Now she’s with the 99’s.”
Wolffe let out a low whistle. “The 99’s? Must be exciting. Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, extending a hand, which you took, giving it a good shake. His calloused fingers lingered a bit as he ran them over your soft knuckles.
Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you said, “Nice to meet you, Commander,” giving him a polite smile.
He smiled back, clearly pleased with your attention. Oh, he liked you, you thought to yourself. He then gently released your hand and turned to his men. “Let’s get a round of drinks. We’re off for quarterly’s!”
His men let out a whooping shout, and the waitress took down their orders. The pack quickly became rowdy, opting for roughhousing with each other and the shinies. After a long while of dodging his gaze and eating the food Kix placed in front of you, you decided you needed a cold glass of water and squeezed out from under Kix’s arm. The stench of so many alphas was starting to become too much, even with the implant. You were praying they couldn’t smell the nervousness on you.
Walking up to the bar, the woman smiled at you. She recognized you, as you usually spent your time with the boys when you were off. She gave you a little wave and bounced over, asking what you wanted.
“Just water for me,” you smiled. She smiled back and went to fill up your glass.
“What’s a pretty little omega doing in a place like this?” a shiny walked up to you, placing himself uncomfortably close to your back. You turned, facing him square on. Despite all clones being created as alphas, this one was young and stupid. Your omega instincts told you he’d be a weak mate. You noticed the lack of markings and scratches on his armor. He’s barely seen anything, you realized.
“I’m here with my friends,” you replied curtly, taking the glass of ice water from the bartender with a nod. You went to move away, but he caught your arm in a tight grip. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to assert his dominance and stop you from leaving. You just looked at his hand and then up to his face.
“I wasn’t done with you… omega,” he leered, leaning forward to run his nose closer to your scent glands. Your heart rate increased for all the wrong reasons. Fear started to creep up inside you the longer he had his hands on you. Now you wished Fives had scented you for real.
“Why are you messing with my medic?”
You stiffened.
Hunter’s smokey voice cut through the music of the club making your entire spine tingle. Hunter had used his Alpha tone making you tremble in spot. The shiny suddenly looked up eyes going wide. He quickly released you and saluted Hunter.“Sorry Seargant. I didn’t know she was yours.”
“Hmm” Hunter dismissed him and grabbed you by the same arm the shiny had just moments ago, except this time the touch didn’t feel dangerous. Instead it made your stomach flip. He’d never touched you unless it was for medical purposes. You couldn’t help the little preen inside you bubbling up. Alpha Protects. He lead you past the shiny and over to an empty booth in the back of the club. You could hear Layla’s voice ringing in your head. She’d be eating this up right now. You prayed your pheromones didn’t give you away.
He finally let you go when you reached the booth waiting for you to slide in. You immediately missed the warmth of his bare hand. You realized they were all in their civvies, well except tech, he still had his helmet near by. The rest of them slid into the booth following suit.
“She’s smells like Regs.” Wrecker crinkled his nose. Between, Fives, Kix, and the shiny you knew you reeked.
“Sorry.” You mumbled taking a sip of your water still a little pissed with them.
“You okay pip?” Hunter asked looking you in the eyes. You suddenly shied away from his gaze looking down at his shirt collar nodding. His eyes were too intense. You usually didn’t have a problem, but you were still trebling from the effects of his voice lingering.
“Did something happen?” Tech asked from around Hunter’s shoulder.
“I’m alright. Just a dumb shiny.” You felt like you were being suffocated by their stares.
They laughed a bit at that.
“Okay, I can’t take it anymore.” Wrecker shoved you under his arm and rubbed his scent all over you. You coughed and sputtered trying to shove him away but it was no use. Crosshair rolled his eyes.
“Alright Wrecker enough.” Hunter sighed looking down at you drowning in alpha, “She’s covered.”
“Ugh.” You tried to straightening out your hair and top a bit, “Easy next time big guy. I think every alpha for a mile can smell me now.”
He just gleamed. You couldn’t help but be a bit grateful. It seems like everyone was due for an updated implant. The smells were getting to be out of control. No one would come near you now. Even the rough housing seemed to be a little aggressive than usual. They had asked you about the wolf pack but you just shrugged watching their rough housing turn into full on brawls.
The boys continued talking about something random that Tech had info dumped about and Wrecker of course was confused. You continued to sip on your ice water before you heard your name being called. You popped your head up from the booth to find Fives looking for you. You sighed and put your cup down. Part of you didn’t want to go back because of the attention the commander was giving you, but the other part of you wanted to spend some time with Rex and the boys. Damn these alphas.
Opting to stay where you were, Fives and the boys decided to come over towards you. Knowing this was probably going to go badly, you shrunk into the booth. Hunter eyed you before he heard Crosshair snarl. A large group of Regs came trotting over to come socialize like a bunch of drunk pups. They all pulled up chairs and surrounded the booth with their rambunctiousness.
“Where’d you go Tiny?” Jesse was sloshed. Leaning over Fives who was barely holding himself together.
“Tiny, did you see the way the commander was looking at you?” Fives shoved Jesse off of him, “I think he’s trying to-” he jiggled his brows suggestively at you and you just shook your head and wanted to melt into the table. Please not this. Not with my commanding officer present. Not my very hot commanding officer present. You wanted to slap Layla why did she have to start putting these thoughts into your head.
“Commander Wolffe?” Tech asked for clarification.
Fives just nodded taking another big sip from his cup.
“Someone shoot me.” You covered your face you were too sober for this conversation. You could feel Crosshairs smirk from across the table.
“Awh pip.” Wrecker just grabbed you again and shook you around, “The Commander thinks you’re prettyyyy.”
Fives and Jesse giggled. Hunter and the others just looked uncomfortable. Obviously they weren’t the most social, nor playful. This was just embarrassing. Your only comfort was Wrecker. He was always the nicest anyways. You just tucked yourself into his side forgetting his betrayal earlier.
“The Commander wants to rut with Y/N?” Tech asked.
“Maker.” You wanted to dissipate into thin air.
“Mhmm.” Jesse and Fives nodded with cheesy grins, “she gave him the eyes.”
You scoffed, “I did not!”
“Yeah you did!” Fives giggles. He then looked at Jesse and re-enacted the whole scene dramatically, “It’s nice to meet you commander.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Jesse and held his hand. You groaned and put your head down on the table.
“I need a drink.” You whimpered not able to take the teasing.
“Is that wise?” Tech chimed in, “You just had your implant replaced. It’s advised to not drink for the first 24 hours or else it may be ineffective.”
“Kriff.” You sighed.
“And that’s my cue to come rescue Tiny.” Kix interjected and yanked you up from the booth taking you far away from this painfully awkward conversation. You thanked him profusely letting him guide you.
“You’re nervous when you’re sober.” He laughed walking over to the dance floor with you.
“I’m nervous because of my Sergeant.” You whisper in his ear. He just gives you a questionable look. You laugh and shake your head, “A friend of mine said something today and I can’t get it out of my stupid omega head.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow dancing to the beat.
“Shut up.” You laughed praying Hunter couldn’t hear you over the yelling and music, “They also don’t like the “Regs,” you shook your head.
“Well I know why.” He replied spinning you around.
“Why?” You asked swaying to the beat.
“Everyone was so mean to them growing up. Kids are horrible you know. But because they’re different they definitely dealt with a lot during training days.” Kix informed you. Suddenly everything made sense. Especially why Crosshair can’t seem to socialize with Regs to save his life.
“Plus, the Captain decked the sniper on Skako Minor.” Kix said cheekily.
You dropped your jaw, “Rex?” You couldn’t believe it. There’s no way level headed Rex lost it with Crosshair.
“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “They got into it while trying to find Echo.”
“No way.” You couldn’t believe it. While dancing you peered over at the table to find the four 99’s watching you completely ignoring the drunk shenanigans from the 501st boys. The only one interacting was Echo. You could tell there was a part of him that missed his brothers. They continued to drink and talk amongst themselves while you and Kix danced on the floor. Some of the other 501st boys joined you before linking up with pretty omegas vying for their attention. Clearly their interests were else where.
You definitely didn’t miss the way the Commander seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of you from his chair. You chose to ignore him.
An alpha like that could send you into heat with or without an implant. You however had a job to do, and being stuck in his bed for a week wouldn’t suffice. The mortification of even thinking about returning to the Marauder after that. You couldn’t even go there. Crosshair would literally never let you hear the end of it. He might shove you out of the airlock when you weren’t expecting it.
Kix seemed to be reading your mind and elected to giggle. You slapped him on the arm and he feigned injury. Just then, you noticed the Commander stand and seemingly decide to come your way. Feeling there to flee, you quickly hugged Kix and made a dart for the door. Grabbing your comm you let the boys know you’d be returning to your apartment but to your dismay, Hunter replied…
“Don’t bother we just got special orders. We’re shipping out tonight.” He sounded tired. So much for shore-leave.
“Ugh.” You whined turning to the taxi waiting by the club entrance. You put your comm away in your pocket and fished around for a few credits ignoring the way the cool evening air chilled your skin.
“Something wrong Cyar’ika?” The gruff voice you were dreading came from behind you. Damn your omega tendencies. You turned keeping your eyes lowered.
“Everything is alright Commander.” You replied sweetly, “I just got informed my break has been cut short. We ship out again tonight.”
He sighed stepping forwards and placed his pointer finger under your chin to tilt your head up. You nearly whimpered looking into his scarred eye. Alpha’s strong. Alpha likes you. Alpha smells good. Really good. You wanted to whine when his eye zeroed in on yours. He wanted your eyes on him that was for certain. Maybe a breakout heat with the Commander wouldn’t be too bad…
“Well if you ever need anything you let me know, yeah?” The Commander smiled wolfishly at you and released you. You took a deep breath and took a step back and nodded your head.
“Y/N?” You heard Tech’s call come to your rescue, “Do you need a ride?”
You grabbed your comm and quickly responded with shaking hands, “Yeah that would be nice thank you Tech.”
It wasn’t long until their speeder arrived and you turned back to the Commander who had no issue walking you over to your unit. You could tell by Hunter skeptical glance that he was trying to figure out the situation. The Commander passed you over to your men and have you a nod before putting his helmet back on and walking back into the club.
“What was that about?” Hunter asked with a raised brow.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You shook your head and practically dove into the speeder.
“Did the Commander proposition you?” Tech asked pushing his glasses back up.
You squeaked and hid in the backseat.
“Stop bothering her.” Echo shook his head. Thank the maker for Echo.
“It was a harmless question.” Tech justified, “As we were talking about his strange attentions earlier and Y/N’s even more unordinary response according to the Regs.”
You looked out the window of the speeder at the endless city below, “I’m going to jump.” You half joked.
“Tech please drop it.” Echo implored, “You’re making her uncomfortable… and me.”
“It’s just biological responses.” Tech grumbled into his data pad, “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
You sighed. This was going to be another long mission, and then you were going to take it upon yourself to insure you got a vacation. Hopefully there was something Rex could do to get you some time off for real this time far away from all of these men.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
This part one, I'll be posting regularly to this story, I hope y'all enjoy!
They're back! 79's staff locker keychains! Now in four colors: solid black, solid purple, translucent orange, and glitter yellow! I hope y'all love these! <3 Shop is here.
(using your questions from the reblog)
Something slow? Fast pace? In the middle?? And how close in proximity do you want to be with this person?
Not fast not slow. Something in the middle. Respectfully close.
He'd also like to request a good song for the dance.
@foxwithadarkside
"Uhhh….” Did this guy literally break his guitar by snapping the strings with the Force? Was that even the Force? Before Mayday could retract his statement the male performer swiftly and deftly jumped off the stage next to him, and it was then he realized how short the man was. And by the Force he was a good six inches shorter than himself!
“So, you wanna learn a dance to woo a young maidens heart?” the man asked light-heartedly while wiggling his eyebrows.
Somehow this statement bothered Mayday. “The Mandalorian is not a helpless maiden! She is a strong-”
“-Capable fighter that can take care of herself?” The man finished with a knowing look. “Ya like em tough! That narrows the dancin down!”
Before Mayday could say anything else and quite possibly walk away, the women on the stage jumped down beside him and said, “Don't take offense to Tore,” she fixed her ruffled skirt, “the word ‘maiden’ is showing respect to women in our culture. And a term of endearment.”
Mayday turned to her and asked, “And what's your name, miss?”
She bowed her head, “You may call me Nara. And you?”
“Mayday.” He held out a hand to her and she shook it with a firm grasp. Something felt off. The next thing Mayday knew Nara had snatched his other hand and stood closer to him with her back straight and a humerus grin on her face.
“Nice!” Tore commented with a snicker.
“What are you doing?!” Mayday nearly shouted in surprise, trying to pull himself away before Archer saw him.
“We're going to teach you salsa!” Tore hopped closer to them to readjust the clone commander. “Now move your hips like this and relax your shoulders. Nara will lead you first in what you're supposed to do with her and then you'll lead!”
Mayday heard of salsas before and he always heard it was a quick step kind of dance. He began to sweat. “I don't want something too fast now, or too slow, but just something in the middle.”
“Don't worry,” Nara piped up, “this dance will be in the middle. It's salsa for beginners!” She smiled encouragingly up at him.
Again, Mayday felt a little upset by that, indirectly being called a beginner, but he was grateful that they were not going to shove him into the deep end. Nara’s hat floated off her head and back on stage with the strange instrument she had (again, Jedi ??) and took both of his hands lightly in hers and they began. Tore coached him with detailed instructions and being the visual next to him while Nara helped him with his placement of hands and feet, and within ten minutes they had a good routine down. Mayday held Nara's hand lightly as they lightly stepped back from each other to coming back into each other (with room), circling each other with her hand on his shoulder and his hand high on her back, pulling back with their hands in the first position before going into a move called “hammerlock.” Her right and his left hand went up with palms touching before going over her head and she twirled underneath bringing their hands down by her hip, a tiny pull back before they switched sides while unfolding their arms and went back into the first position of lightly holding hands, then Nara turned lightly back into him with their hands up and they “walked backwards,” posed and walked forwards again then he twirled Nara three times.
“That was great!” Nara praised him, eyes beaming. “I would say you're a natural dancer Commander!”
Mayday felt a bit of pride at her words and puffed out his chest a little. “Well, it was thanks to you and Tore-” they both turned to where the short man was standing earlier, only to find him missing. Mayday couldn't believe this was happening. He heard Nara groan in annoyance and mutter “not again” under her breath. “Kriff! I was going to ask if you guys could play a song!”
Nara held her head up with her hand. “I'll tell him once I find him.” She looked back up at him. “Don't fret too much sir, I encourage you to seek out more dances while I hunt down my friend.”
“Wait friend?” Mayday scratched his head in confusion. “Are you two-”
Nara shook her head. “We're not siblings or romantic partners. Just friends.” She had a knowing smile on her face again. “Now what was the song?”
(so sorry this took so long! I really wanted to draw the top picture but my carpal tunnel was flaring up this week.)
Also the stage is empty with instruments just sitting there....
The Bad Batch's first ever night out on the town, early on in their careers. Fluff, silliness, alcohol, general shenanigans and boys being boys. ~4200 words, somehow!
---
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” said Hunter, casting a wary eye at the entrance of 79’s. Booming music spilled out onto the platform, waves of synth-funk and pounding bass already half-deafening. The neon lights made his tongue prickle with the taste of ozone.
“Hey, how often do we get to shore up on Coruscant?” Wrecker asked, shoulder-checking him on his way out of the cab. “C’mon. The regs are always goin’ on about this place. I wanna see what the big deal is!”
”The big deal is alcohol, of course,” said Tech. He folded his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at the garish neon and the clusters of clones in off-duty blues and standard issue armor milling about. “And the chance to imbibe it aggressively. I’ve heard some of the tales that come out of this place, too, and things don’t always end well. I suggest we take a more moderate approach, given none of us has ever had the chance to drink before.”
“We’ll be fine, Tech,” Crosshair said, adjusting his toothpick. “We’re defective, remember? I’m sure we could drink these regs under the table.”
”Don’t get cocky,” said Hunter, though he had to admit he was curious. “It’s not a contest.”
They’d just come off their fifth ever mission, riding high on how they’d managed to pit two tactical droids and their armies against each other with epic results, and he thought of the medals they’d been awarded for it. He’d stowed his safely in his bunk on the Marauder until he could figure out what to do with it, but every time he glanced at it, he couldn’t help but feel a fierce pride. They did deserve to blow off some steam after that.
Wrecker led the way into the bar, more than a few clones turning and staring at him — then at the rest of them as they filed through. Too tall, too short, too broad, too skinny. Though they were wearing their blues, there was still no hope of blending in. A few stared at Tech’s goggles and Crosshair’s silver hair in particular; most were smart enough to avert their gaze at Wrecker’s bulk, given Wrecker would happily give them a shove if they mouthed off.
Hunter watched the other clones’ faces carefully, ready in case anything started, but they made it to the bartender without incident. Under the pounding music, he thought he heard a few whispers, but nothing major.
The clone behind the bar tilted his head, giving them an appraising look. “Ninety-nines?” he ventured, his face impassive.
”What gave it away?” Wrecker laughed.
“Problem?” Crosshair drawled, leaning over Wrecker’s shoulder.
”No problem. Money’s money,” the bartender said with a shrug. “What’ll it be?”
The four of them looked at each other. They hadn’t gotten that far.
”Four harvest brews,” Tech said. The bartender nodded and turned away. Tech leaned in close to them to be heard. “It’s a reasonable first drink. Lower proof, known to be easy to drink. I suggest we see how that goes and proceed from there.”
“Did you research the menu ahead of time?” Hunter asked, already knowing the answer.
”What do you think I was doing in the cab?”
”Lower proof,” Wrecker said. “Does that mean it’s for lightweights? ‘Cause I’m no lightweight.”
“We’d noticed,” said Crosshair.
”Careful, Wrecker. Don’t let it go to your head.”
The bartender returned with four large glasses of foamy amber ale and Hunter reached for his credits. The Republic didn’t pay much, but they had nothing else to spend it on. Why not this?
The bartender held up a hand. “Want to start a tab?”
”Yeah!” Wrecker said before Hunter could stop.
“All right, sure,” Hunter said, feeling only slightly uneasy.
They took their drinks to a far corner of the bar, where a bunch of regs clustered around a table lined with two sets of glasses. Hunter watched curiously as one tossed a small light ball into the air, bouncing it off the table until it clattered against the opposite side’s glasses harmlessly. He groaned, the clones beside him shoving him and telling him to get it together.
”I propose a toast. It’s traditional.”
”All right, what do you think?” Hunter asked Tech.
”To Clone Force Ninety-Nine,” Tech said, raising his glass high.
“To the Bad Batch!” Wrecker crowed, clinking his glass enthusiastically.
”To the Bad Batch,” they echoed, raising their glasses. They each took a drink.
”Phawww,” Hunter groaned, his nose wrinkling, sticking his tongue out. The ale was bitter and malty, with an odd sour note. It clung to the inside of his mouth, and he wished they had some ration bars on hand to cut the taste. “This is beer? It’s horrible.”
”I dunno, I kind of like it,” said Wrecker, taking a huge drink. He coughed and sputtered. “Maybe I don’t like it that much.”
”Perhaps it’s an acquired taste,” said Tech, looking less than pleased with his drink. He took another sip, grimacing slightly. “Or perhaps the intoxicating effects make up for the musty flavor.”
”I think it’s fine,” said Crosshair, drinking a quarter of his glass in one go. He stifled a cough by chewing frantically on his toothpick, and Hunter rolled his eyes.
”So we just… sit here? Drinking?” Wrecker asked, doing just that. He looked puzzled. “That’s really what people do here?”
”I suppose,” Hunter said. “You put it like that, it really doesn’t sound like much.” He tried his beer again, bracing himself, but it wasn’t as bad the second time around now that he knew what to expect.
“Well, we could always play a game,” Crosshair said slyly, glancing at the regs clustered around their table. “You know we could destroy them.”
”You don’t even know what they’re playing,” Tech admonished. He adjusted his goggles. “Then again, the rules do appear to be exceedingly simple. Throw the ball into the other team’s cup, they take a drink. The more intoxicated they become, the less able they are to throw accurately at the other team’s cups. It’s basic enough for even the wildly intoxicated to grasp. I suspect the wild intoxication is the point.”
”That sounds like a recipe for a fight to break out,” Hunter said, a dozen different incidents of fights they’d had with regs sober coming to mind. “C’mon lads, forget them. We’re celebrating kicking ass together, who needs the regs?” He raised his glass again. “Wrecker! You nailed Plan Forty-two. That was one helluva bomb!”
Wrecker laughed, taking another swig. “Yes it was! I almost thought I wasn’t gonna have enough chargers ‘til Tech helped me rig those downed droids to blow. That was awesome!”
”The ensuing explosion was nothing short of tremendous,” Tech agreed. “Truly inspired! I was happy to assist.”
”Well, what about Cross’s ricochet taking out half of ‘em before they even got going?” Wrecker said, clapping Crosshair hard between the shoulders. Crosshair nearly choked on his toothpick and took another drink, his cheeks flushing faintly reddish.
”It was easy,” he said, but Hunter knew he was pleased.
“Easy nothing. It was one for the books,” Hunter said, and Crosshair gave him a faint, surprised grin.
”Don’t forget Hunter’s planning,” Tech mentioned. “We’d never have gotten that trap laid without his enhanced senses.”
“All part of the job,” Hunter said warmly. Huh. He felt a little warm all over, come to think of it.
Wrecker drained the last of his glass, and not to be outdone, Crosshair did the same with his. “I don’t feel anything,” Wrecker said, disappointed.
”Me neither,” said Crosshair, though Hunter thought his voice sounded a little different, even accounting for the loud music. His face looked more flushed, his cheeks uncharacteristically ruddy. Tech was giving him an appraising look.
”It is not instantaneous,” Tech said. “Perhaps you should give it a moment before —“
”Another round!” Wrecker said, getting up to his feet. “C’mon, Cross, let’s try something different.”
”You’re on,” said Crosshair, following as Wrecker parted a way through the crowd with his massive shoulders.
Hunter turned back to Tech. “I have a bad feeling about this….”
---
Bad feeling? What bad feeling?
Hunter snaked an arm over Tech’s shoulders, gripping his arm hard. “Ahhh, glad we came out tonight,” he said. He felt pleasantly warm and more than a little giddy, and everything was just funny. “Just a couple bad batchers out on the town!”
”You could hardly call Coruscant a town,” Tech corrected, his cheeks pink and his goggles slightly askew. Instead of leaning away from Hunter’s hug, he completed it, his arm draped loosely around Hunter’s waist. With his other hand he gesticulated dramatically. “It is an ecumenopolis with the city structure covering all natural features entirely except for a sliver of the planet’s tallest peak, which has been preserved as a —“
”Tech, Tech, Tech,” Wrecker said, draining his second drink and then patting him on the shoulder. “Drink more. Smart less.”
”Shots?” Crosshair asked, elbowing a reg out of the way as he came back to the table. He had four tiny glasses balanced in his hands, each filled with blazing layers of red and pink and yellow liquid. “They call it a Kamino Sunrise. 79’s special.”
“We are already exhibiting sufficient signs of intoxication,” Tech pointed out, letting go of Hunter. He’d drawn the word sufficient out far longer than he needed to, enunciating each syllable. He held out his hand, tapping his palm as he counted. “Slurred speech, jovial attitudes, and an expansive broadening of our normal personalities. Trying these shots may put us over the line from tipsy to — what do the regs call it — wasted.”
”Live a little, Tech,” said Crosshair. He slammed the shots down on the table save one, a bit of liquid spilling over the rims. “Come on. We live or die like men.”
”What does that even mean?” Wrecker roared, laughing and swiping one of the glasses. “Hurry up!”
“I am living! But I am also not eager to completely obliterate my exceptional critical thinking skills,” Tech said defensively. “However, in the interest of brotherly camaraderie, I will try this shot against my better judgment.”
Tech and Hunter picked up their shot glasses, and Hunter gave Tech a look of Well, here goes nothing. They clinked their glasses together.
”To… to…what are we toasting this time?” Wrecker asked.
“Uh….” They stared around at each other, Crosshair nibbling his toothpick, Tech staring off into the distance, Hunter’s mind a complete blank. He stifled a giggle.
”To Lula!” Wrecker announced.
Hunter met his brothers’ eyes, and they nodded, roaring, “To Lula!’
They slugged back their drinks, and Hunter had time only to perceive burning sugar spicy sweet before he’d gulped the thing down. A wobble passed through his legs almost instantly, traveling like a wave from his head down, making everything glow.
“Uh, Cross? What was in these?”
“I dunno. I’m not a barkeep,” Crosshair said, weaving slightly where he stood. He caught sight of the regs at their table and grinned. “C’mon. Let’s get ‘em.”
---
The battle was fierce.
The regs had been less than welcoming. But with Wrecker looming and cracking his knuckles, Crosshair glowering, and Hunter’s relaxed shrug to say you may as well make it easy on yourselves, the regs had relented and given them a go. (Tech, for his part, had simply shaken his head and rolled his eyes at the whole idea.)
Hunter figured they were sorely regretting it now. They’d added this round to their tab (hope we brought enough credits!), which had gone a long way towards the regs playing with them. And like Tech had said, the game was easy. But it turned out bouncing the ball before it landed in a cup meant the other team had to drink double. So did calling which cup the ball was going to land in before tossing it. Absurdly, the effects stacked if both things were accomplished.
Which made Crosshair even more deadly than usual.
He sidled up to the table, toothpick jutting from his mouth, looming over the playing field like a vengeful Venator. Hunter could swear one of the regs, a shiny by the looks of him, was actually shaking. He nursed an ale, keeping watch on the situation. Funny how the beer seemed to taste a lot better now than it had in the beginning. He took another drink, grinning.
Crosshair was merciless, especially with Wrecker egging him on. It was hard not to. Hunter couldn’t help but whoop with both of them as Crosshair scored hit after hit. Even Tech whistled once or twice, one of those shrieking whistles with two fingers hooked into his mouth.
It was a massacre. Occasionally the other team managed to land a shot, but they were pretty damn gone and they missed far more often than they succeeded. The few times they did land a shot, Crosshair gamely took a drink each time. He started slurring his calls, but his aim was as good as ever.
“Cup six, two bounces.”
“One bounce, spin off the rim of cup two, it’ll land in four. Trust me.”
“Two bounces off the wall, back onto the table, it’ll hop into three --”
“Cup nine from ten feet back, come on, give me some room--”
The regs on the other end of the table groaned. “Come on! Someone else has gotta take a turn! He’s cheating!”
Crosshair drew himself up to his full height, instantly incandescent with rage, his eyes snapping. He spat his toothpick to the floor, raising his fists. Oh kriff -- Hunter had time to think before he jumped out in front of his brother, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. Crosshair staggered into Tech, who managed to catch him before he fell.
“No he’s not,” Hunter bellowed, whirling to face the regs. He glared at them, showing his teeth. He’d learned pretty early on with the skull tattoo it was a good way to scare people off, and two of the regs took a step back, sweating. “But if you’re a bunch of cowards who can’t handle it when someone’s better than you --” He puffed out his chest, crossing his arms.
“Hey!” Wrecker cried, leaning heavily on Hunter’s shoulder. “Hey Hunter. Why can’t we all just -- just get along?” He hiccuped, grabbing one of the cups off the table and taking a drink. “These guys ain’t so bad. They’re tiny. And they suck at ale pong. But maybe we should all be friends.”
Hunter snorted, looking up at his brother. “Now I know you’re drunk.”
“Not drunk! Just…” Wrecker searched for the word.
“Just drunk?” Tech supplied helpfully.
“Yeah! That’s it, drunk!”
Hunter buried his face in his hands.
Crosshair shoved past him, jerking a finger at the regs. “This isn’t over,” he snarled. He went to lean a hand on the table but missed, and promptly crashed to the ground in a pile of long flailing legs. The regs erupted in laughter.
Tech was bending down, helping Crosshair back up to his feet. Wrecker let go of Hunter and leaned down, elbowing Tech out of the way and hauling Crosshair up so fast he nearly fell over again. “Hey, little brother!” Wrecker said loudly. “You all right?”
“I’m fine, I just -- I must’ve --” Crosshair slurred. His face suddenly looked pale, and he gripped Wrecker’s arm hard. “Ooh. Dizzy.”
“Let’s get you to sit down,” Tech said. “I tried to warn you.”
“Shut up, Tech --”
“Listen to him, Crosshair,” said Hunter. “Don’t make me pull rank.” Crosshair glared, but the fight was going out of him.
They shambled their way back to a free table. Crosshair was very definitely wobbling. Wrecker was steady, but he was loudly singing something ridiculous. Some pop song from the bar? Hunter focused, or tried to. Everything was coming through muzzy and muted. His senses had never been so dull in his life, and he wondered vaguely if this was what normal clones felt like all the time.
Hunter pulled up a seat at the table, peering at Crosshair. Wrecker was still humming off-key under his breath. Tech had disappeared. Where had he gone to? Hunter pulled his gaze away from Crosshair, glassy-eyed and pale, and saw Tech over at the bar.
“Oh he’d better not be getting another round,” Hunter muttered, thinking of Crosshair. Although he felt fine, if a little wavy around the edges. Maybe he’d get one more beer before they headed out, ride this feeling a little further… Nah, that probably wasn’t the best move right now.
“See ya,” Wrecker said suddenly, getting to his feet and taking Crosshair with him.
“What? Where are you going?” Hunter called after them.
“He’s gonna upchuck!” said Wrecker cheerfully, bustling a tilting Crosshair off into the crowd. “Wanna come?”
Hunter groaned, torn between following them and waiting for Tech. He got to his feet, wending his way through the crowd until he found Tech at the bar, having an argument with the bartender.
“I’ve calculated our tab, and you have been wildly undercharging us!” Tech accused. “It’s highly suspicious --”
“It’s half-price night!” the bartender protested. “Don’t you remember me telling you when you came in?”
“No,” Hunter said. He leaned in. “Tech, what gives? If they want to charge us less, who cares?”
Tech opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He pursed his lips. “Well. I suppose it’s his prerogative.”
“Look, we’d better settle up. Whatever it is we owe you,” Hunter said heavily. The bartender gave him a price and he paid it, wondering what was going on with the pricing, but not caring enough to find out.
“Have a good night guys, all right?” the bartender said. “And here’s some water for the way home. You’ll need it.” He slid several bottles of water over to them and Tech and Hunter gathered them up.
“You just had to bring up math, didn’t you?”
“It doesn’t make any sense. There is no special, Hunter. I saw others close their tabs at the normal rate.”
“Maybe he charges less for defective clones. Credit error in our favor, right?”
“It’s ridiculous, but -- Ah. Where did Wrecker and Crosshair go?”
“I think Crosshair overdid it,” said Hunter. “They’re off to the ‘fresher. Let’s go find ‘em.”
They found Wrecker guarding the far stall in the busy restroom. Crosshair was slumped against the wall of the stall, cradling the toilet with one arm.
“Yikes,” said Hunter.
“I did warn you,” said Tech.
“He’s taking it like a champ,” said Wrecker proudly, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “Hey! You guys brought another round? I could go for somethin’ else!”
“It’s just water. And you’re in the bathroom,” said Tech in disgust.
“Aww, man!”
Hunter crept into the stall, crouching beside Crosshair, who had leaned his head against the wall with his eyes closed. The stall smelled of sick and sweat, nearly enough to turn his own stomach. “Cross. You all right?”
Crosshair cracked open one eye and glared blearily at him. “At least no one had to hold my hair back,” he muttered.
Hunter bristled. “Oh, you are such a little --” Then he grinned. “Yeah, I think you’ll be all right. Come on. Ready to get out of here?”
Crosshair closed his eyes, wincing, then swallowed. “Eurgh… another minute.”
Hunter hurried out of the stall, slamming the door shut behind him.
---
They finally made it out twenty minutes later, after Crosshair swore he was done puking. He was still wobbly on his feet but the glassy look in his eyes had faded. Wrecker was steering him through the crowd, clearing a path with his vast arms. Tech followed them, chattering to himself about inefficient business practices, while Hunter brought up the rear. The crowd had started to thin out by now and it was noticeably less jam-packed and quieter. Time to get a move on.
There was a lull in the music, and his ears pricked at a conversation carried through an empty pocket in the center of the room. It was the bartender, talking to someone. Hunter paused, listening, keeping his gaze averted so as not to alert the bartender he was being listened to.
“Damn, I’m glad I followed my instinct with those ninety-nines.”
”What do you mean?”
”Well, they may have been defective, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know a shiny when I see one. Gave ‘em the shiny special.”
“Isn’t that where you only serve ‘em half strength of what they ordered?”
“Yeah. The brainy one almost figured it out, but the leader called him off. Can you imagine how messed up those clones would have got if I’d let ‘em have the full-strength stuff? Bunch of lightweights.”
”Kriff.”
”Yeah. Poor bastards. Shinies always overdo it.”
Hunter swallowed. They’d been drinking half of what they thought they had? Crap. That was embarrassing. Shiny special, indeed.
He caught up to the others as they squeezed out through the front door and into the stale night air, finally free of the music that had been dully pounding in the background for hours. Tech turned back to him. “I’ve called a taxi. Should be here in twenty. I suggest we find a spot to sit down -- far from the edge of this platform, judging by the way our reflexes have been affected.”
“My reflexes are fine,” said Hunter, reaching for his knife to show off. His hand hit fabric and he remembered he’d left his vibroblade with his armor back on the ship. He gave Tech a flustered grin. “Okay, fair point.”
They found a spot to sit against the wall, well away from the plummeting empty space at the edge of the platform. For a moment, they were quiet, leaning back against the wall and sipping the water the bartender had sent them off with. Hunter shook his head. That clone had had their number, all right, as embarrassing it was to admit. He wondered if he should tell the others, but he kept quiet, his senses slowly coming back to him.
Speeders whizzed by in the dark, flashes of multicolored lights zigging against the blue-black void and the neon across the shaft. Their engines were bright little hums pressing against his eardrums. He could feel their wind against his hair, the closest thing to real wind one could find this far down. He watched them go, on and on, entranced.
Hunter looked over at his brothers. They all looked drowsy, eyes heavy, faint smiles on their faces. Tech yawned, leaning against him, head drifting to Hunter’s shoulder. Hunter adjusted, making it easier for Tech to lean on him. Beside Tech was Crosshair, his face slack and unfocused, his cheeks flushed, arm slung around Wrecker’s shoulders. Wrecker was still humming, a cheery little nonsense tune.
“Not a bad night, lads, all in all,” said Hunter.
“It was certainly experimental. We shall be better prepared next time.”
“You were over prepared! I coulda kept going.”
“And we all might have blacked out if we’d tried to keep up with you.”
“Don’t fight,” Crosshair mumbled. “Fun night.”
“Even if you puked your guts out! Ha, good thing I got you in there in time.” Wrecker looked way too pleased with himself. Hunter would have gently smacked him if Tech wasn’t in the way, burrowing further into Hunter to get comfortable, his goggles digging into Hunter’s shoulder.
Crosshair shifted, giving Wrecker something like a hug. “Wrecker, you’re the best,” he mumbled. “Had to tell you.”
“Best… brother. ‘Cept when you hog Lula. Miss her,” Crosshair continued, closing his eyes, sounding half-asleep already. “Best brother. ‘Cept Tech. Or Hunter. Way better than those regs,” he rambled.
“I am clearly the best brother,” Tech announced, his face still jammed in Hunter’s sleeve.
“Nuh-uh! He said I was the best first!”
“He said I was the best last,” Hunter countered. “Beat that!”
“You are all… absurd. Yes. That is the word.”
“You’re just jealous!”
“All you… best. Best brothers…”
“Aww, I think I like cuddly Cross!”
”I suggest we do not tell him of this in the morning. He appears to have avoided alcohol poisoning, but not by much. He may blackout and not remember.”
”Not tell him? Are you kidding? I’m gonna tell him every day!”
Hunter chuckled to himself, taking a drink of his water and trying to get comfortable against the wall until their taxi came. He watched the speeders zipping back and forth, his brothers arguing at his side, and he thought there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
---
Morning on the Havoc Marauder.
”Am I dead?”
”You are not dead. You are merely hungover.”
”I think I’m dead.”
”Have some water. Again, I must assure you, you are not dead.”
”Hunter, am I dead?”
”No. Listen to Tech. Drink some water.”
”But —“
“That’s an order.”
”Fine. Also, I hate you both.”
”Sure.”
”I find that unlikely.”
”Wrecker. Am I dead?”
”You better not be. I’d be pissed.”
“Aw. You’d miss me.”
”Yeah, I mean, probably.”
”I hate you too.”
”Love you, Crossie.”
”Don’t call me that — uggh. My head…”
“Just take it easy, Crosshair. It’s a while back to Kamino. Sleep up, take your pain pills, and drink some water. …lightweight.”
”I am not!”
The ship filled with laughter, and Crosshair took his pain pills, scowling fiercely enough to kill.
One of my favorite pieces of weird Star Wars trivia is that there is a Clone Bar on Coruscant. Like, on the capital of the Galactic Republic, is a bar that the slave soldier race just likes to go to in order to spend their leave time and do it in such numbers that it's basically theirs. You can just go there and hang out with a bunch of identical brothers.
