Hey Miss Zoey love your work! Just curious I've been reading a lot of the Dad batch but what about Uncle batch? For instance if you had to babysit the nieces and nephews with one of the boys or Rex or Wolffe how do you think it would go?
I hope that you are having a restful weekend and all is well. 😁
Aloha!
Thanks! Love to read that 😊
The "Uncle Batch", huh? Doesn't ring as good as the other one, yet I think it's worth a shot 😁 I'd like to know about that too!
I'm assuming younger kids, not teens...
The Bad Batch HCs - The Uncle Batch
Hunter
He's the uncle with the sick knife tricks that the kids aren't supposed to copy. The uncle who knows all about wilderness survival and takes them camping. He teaches them about fishing, making campfires, setting up camp and picking mushrooms. He is great with his nephews and nieces, he has the calmness and patience to be a good role model, except for the knife thing, maybe. Hunter has a way of calming children when they are hurt or scared, his voice and calmness soothe them almost immediately.
Echo
Can be a gentle soul, but he is not afraid to be stricter when he sees fit, unlike most of his other brothers, he can definitely say "no" when he has to. This doesn't make him unpopular, though, he is the uncle to go to for advice, and he tells the funniest stories about his brothers. He also makes the best snacks when he is responsible for the food as a babysitter. He might be stricter than the rest, but he is also loving and patient. Echo is that uncle the kids want to have around when they are sick. Echo makes the best soup and has the softest voice when reading to his sick nephews and nieces.
Wrecker
The fun uncle, who constantly tells jokes, takes the kids to fairs and amusement parks. Wrecker knows a lot of funny games, boredom does not arise that quickly. He can hardly say "no" and most of the time the kids have a sugar shock when they are left alone with him, because Uncle Wrecker always has sweets with him. Of course, he likes to watch over the kids, and he protects them with his life if he has to. The kids adore him, he is so warm and lively, but also gentle, that goes down well with the kids.
Tech
The uncle who knows all the answers, well, most of them. He knows a lot, tells a lot, and often doesn't realize whether he's exciting or boring the children. But his inventiveness knows no bounds, he invents new games practically non-stop. He is good-natured and can hardly say no, but when it comes to the safety of the kids, he puts his foot down. Nephews and nieces like him because he always has an answer when they ask him something, he is attentive and patient and never gets tired of answering their questions. The kids learn from him, but in a way he also learns from the kids, especially in the interpersonal area. He learns to read their behavior, and at some point he knows before something happens that something is up.
Crosshair
He tells the best scary stories, mostly ones that aren't really suitable for the kids, but they hang on every word he says with fascination. He is the quiet, grumpy uncle who rarely comes out of his shell, yet is adored on all sides by his nephews and nieces and is not infrequently introduced as the cool uncle. Of course, Crosshair pretends to be annoyed by the clinginess when they cling to his limbs, but underneath the grumpy facade sits a proud uncle who enjoys the attention.
Quite possibly, he'll smugly say to his brother(s), "Your kids love me more than they love you."
I finall managed to format a few chapters at once, till my funky 80HD made me lose focus, If anyone would love t see a special scenario, I am open to try an weave it in.
And as a reminder my asks are open, I will try to write for every clone if requested.
Masterlist
Chapter 50: Soft hearted
As Orion continued to explore the space between Hunter's side and arm, Tech took a moment to reflect on the peculiar dynamics that had formed among Clone Force 99. It was a makeshift family, forged in the crucible of war and adversity, but it held a warmth and camaraderie that transcended their clone origins.
Tech, ever the analytical mind, observed how Hunter, usually the stoic leader, had a soft spot for the little one. Orion's presence seemed to bring a lighter, more human side out of Hunter, a stark contrast to the battle-hardened and exhausted Sergeant they all knew. It was a testament to the way parenthood, even in its unconventional form, could soften the edges of even the toughest warriors. Meanwhile, Orion, oblivious to the complexities of his surrogate family dynamics, continued his exploration. His tiny hands found refuge in Hunter's armour, occasionally reaching out to touch the helmet or grab onto a strand of Hunter's hair. The simplicity of Orion's actions provided a refreshing break from the complexities of war and secrecy.
Tech, with a subtle smile, couldn't help but marvel at the scene. It was a snapshot of ordinary moments in the midst of extraordinary circumstances. The Havoc Marauder and their barracks became not just a vessel for transporting and a home for soldiers, but a space where bonds were formed, laughter echoed, and unexpected connections thrived. As Orion's babbling filled the air, Tech's thoughts briefly drifted to Amanda and the challenges they faced in keeping their secret. The delicate dance between duty and personal connections became more intricate with each passing day. Yet, in the quiet moments like these, surrounded by makeshift safety railings and the comforting presence of his brothers, Tech found solace and a sense of belonging. In the background, Hunter, with a hint of amusement in his eyes, continued to engage with Orion. The once stern leader of Clone Force 99 had become an unexpected uncle, sharing a silent understanding with Tech about the importance of family, however unconventional it may be.
Orion's play mat became a hub of activity within the Havoc Marauder. The infant, determined and full of curiosity, stretched out on his tummy, little hands pushing against the soft surface. His eyes gleamed with the excitement of exploration as he attempted the challenging feat of rolling over.
Tech, always attentive to Orion's developmental milestones, observed with a mixture of pride and amusement. The play mat, scattered with colourful toys strategically placed to capture Orion's attention, provided a stimulating environment for the growing infant. As Orion wriggled and squirmed, Tech couldn't help but narrate the unfolding story of his son's adventures, offering words of encouragement and celebration for every little movement. Always collecting as much pictures and videos as he can, involving his beloved wife as much as he can. The camaraderie of Clone Force 99 echoed in the background as the other members of the squad occasionally glanced over, their tough exteriors softened by the endearing sight of Orion's determined efforts.
Orion's various attempts at rolling over became a collective event, drawing the attention of his uncles, Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo. Each had their unique way of interacting with the little one, whether it was offering words of encouragement, playfully waving a toy, or simply sharing a smile in response to Orion's infectious joy. Wrecker, with his boisterous laughter, occasionally mimicked Orion's attempts to roll, creating a playful atmosphere that made Orion laugh loudly. Echo, ever the strategist, analysed the movement patterns and silently cheered on the progress. Crosshair, typically reserved, couldn't help but crack a subtle smile at the adorable display.
Amidst the light-hearted banter and shared moments, Tech marvelled at the sense of unity within the squad. Orion's presence had woven an extra layer of connection among them, making the Havoc Marauder feel more like a home than a military transport. As Orion's efforts reached a peak, a collective leaning forward happened. Despite not fully mastering the art of rolling over, Orion's determination had turned a simple play mat into a stage for shared joy and laughter. "You get closer every day buddy" Hunter states before turning back to his task.
And so, in the heart of the Havoc Marauder, surrounded by his uncles and father, Orion continued his explorations, blissfully unaware of the deep bonds forming around him. Not aware that he manages to pull his uncles out of their task focused mind, and give them some joyful moments of respite.
Orion, in his innocent attempt to mimic those around him, gurgled happily while grasping the long rattle, the sound of which vaguely echoed the rhythmic tap of raindrops, Tech got in case Orion likes the rain back on Kamino. The play mat was adorned with soft pillows, supporting the little one as he was propped up to observe the ongoing activities within the Havoc Marauder. His father having opened a wall panel to check on something, always close by.
Crosshair, sitting nearby with his rifle disassembled for maintenance, meticulously cleaned each component. His focused demeanour seemed to deter any potential interaction, but every now and then, he couldn't resist stealing glances at Orion. Despite his best efforts to maintain a stoic exterior, there was a subtle softening in Crosshair's expression as he observed the infant's attempts to imitate his actions. Orion, blissfully unaware of the watchful eyes upon him, continued to experiment with the rattle. His small hands gripped the toy, attempting to mimic the way Crosshair handled his rifle. The sound of the rain-like rattle merged with the hum of the ship's engines, creating a comforting background melody for the extraordinary family on board.
Tech, being nearby, observed the silent interaction between Crosshair and Orion, with a few glances. A small smile played on Tech's lips as he recognized the unspoken connection forming between the sharpshooter and the curious infant. It was a testament to the unique dynamics that had evolved within Clone Force 99, a blend of toughness, camaraderie, and unexpected moments of tenderness. Showing even the soft sides of clones bred for war.
As Orion continued his playful exploration, occasionally babbling in a language only he understood, Crosshair couldn't help but acknowledge the subtle joy that emanated from the infant's presence. The act of cleaning his rifle became a secondary focus as the sharpshooter found himself captivated by the innocent gestures of the youngest member of their unconventional family. In the confined space of the Havoc Marauder, where duty often collided with moments of respite, the silent connection between Crosshair and Orion symbolized the intricate threads that bound them together. It was a reminder that, even in the midst of war, the simple acts of observation and shared space could transcend the harsh realities of their existence. And so, as Orion continued his delightful mimicry, unknowingly bridging the gap between generations, the Havoc Marauder sailed through the galaxy, a vessel not only carrying soldiers but also cradling the warmth of unexpected connections and the echoes of a loving family finding solace in each other's presence.
Crosshair, having completed the meticulous task of cleaning his rifle, approached Orion with a deliberate yet gentle demeanour. Kneeling beside the play mat, he observed the infant's attempts to grasp the rattle, his keen eyes discerning the limited coordination of the small hands. With a subtle smile that hinted at the rare softness beneath his stoic exterior, Crosshair decided to lend a helping hand. Taking the rattle from Orion's grasp, he carefully positioned it within the tiny fingers, guiding them to encircle the makeshift rifle. It was a momentary fusion of precision and innocence, as the sharpshooter imparted his own signature touch to the playful scene.
Orion, seemingly intrigued by Crosshair's involvement, followed the lead, attempting to maintain the hold on the rattle. His eyes widened with curiosity, reflecting the innate fascination children often have for the world around them. The rattle, now held in a manner reminiscent of a miniature rifle, became a symbol of connection, an unspoken bridge between the seasoned soldier and the burgeoning infant.
Tech, who had been quietly observing the interaction, found himself captivated by the unfolding tableau. The juxtaposition of Crosshair's expertise and Orion's budding curiosity created a harmonious blend of contrasts. It was a reminder that, even in the midst of their unique circumstances, moments of tenderness and shared experiences could forge bonds that defied the rigidity of their roles as soldiers. Crosshair, fully aware that Orion's attention span might be fleeting, savoured the ephemeral connection. He allowed the infant to explore the rattle-as-rifle for a brief moment before gently reclaiming the toy. In a silent acknowledgment of their shared understanding, Crosshair met Tech's gaze with a subtle nod, a recognition of the unspoken threads that wove their disparate lives into an unexpected tapestry of camaraderie.
As Crosshair rose from his kneeling position, Orion's attention shifted to the twinkling lights on the play mat. The makeshift training session concluded, leaving a lingering sense of warmth and connection in the air. It was a small yet profound episode within the confines of the Havoc Marauder, a vessel where bonds were forged not only through battle but also through the tender moments that unfolded in the most unexpected corners of their shared journey. "that never happened." He muttered as he passed Tech to head to the refresher.
Chapter 51 no one ever saw there was 55
Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.
Oh my, if I am already at 50. And have so much pre written, I may have to cut short. Not sure if someone would want to write... don't know a 100 chapters or more? That is insane, because I started this as a private fun write, and I have other works, private ones that are even longer. What is wrong with me? xD
Why the foundling isn’t frightened of him, Echo will never understand. His replaced limbs are hard as iron, and his gears grind giving him a grotesque appearance. He’s barely half-man these days. Simply a mess of tangled wiring and failed experiments.
Mosaic
None of which prevents the little one from clambering all over him as she shows him her toys. From where he’s seated on the floor, Echo finds himself surrounded by stuffed animals, alphabet blocks, and a few talking machine contraptions.
“She’s certainly fond of you,” Cody comments in a teasing tone from the recliner he’s lounging in. Setting down his book, he looks at them. “Rex’ll be done with chores in a bit, then he’ll be in to get you.”
Echo nods as Asha approaches him again and reaches out a tiny hand to touch a divot on his head. Pausing, those big, green eyes, full of curiosity, look at him. In some ways, he wonders if she’s asking his permission—though that’s debatable cos she’s a toddler so it can’t be. Regardless, he provides a soft, encouraging nod, and she continues her exploration.
“Untle Etto?” she whispers, touching the metal gently. “Oww?”
Shaking his head, he smiles at her. They don’t hurt these days. They’re simply a painful reminder of what he’s been through, of a past so convoluted and tumultuous he prays she’ll never witness anything of the sort.
Not like the one who came before her. The predecess—
“Echo?”
His gaze snaps to the Marshal Commander.
“Did Rex have a child?”
Echo’s quick to shake his head, even as his memories betray him.
The captain—commander has never grinned quite like this from ear to ear. Joy radiates from the shine in his eyes to the glow on his face giving off a brilliance that cannot be rivaled. It’s an incredulous sight, one that will forever be engraved in memories.
Shifting the bundle of blankets, Rex gazes tenderly at the sleeping babe within. “Do you want to hold her?”
Laughing, he scoffs. “You’re going to give her up?”
“To her Uncle Echo, yeah.”
“Obi-Wan already told me,” Cody continues, drawing Echo back to reality. “But if anyone can confirm it, it’s you.”
Blinking slowly, his brow knits together. Echo swears General Kenobi died a few years back. Then again, Echo believed Rex to be dead all these years and only discovered the possibility of life after he heard a report stating the captain had been discharged from the New Republic Defense Force.
“Echo. Did Rex have a child?”
Wetting his lips, Echo looks at the little girl sitting in front of him playing with a stuffed massif. She giggles before barking and running it over his calf—a metal leg so damaged he’s four inches shorter than normal now. Exhaling slowly, he observes her actions, the shape of her nose, the color of her skin. Honestly, Echo swears she’s the spitting image—but it can’t be.
“Echo?”
“They died in an explosion,” he breathes and swallows roughly. Everything died in that explosion. Hopes, dreams, family—
“So, he did have a child.”
Whether it’s a statement or a question, Echo can’t be certain. Regardless, he nods. “She was born after the Empire… Um, I-I’d never seen that type of joy from Rex. Or devotion.”
“Is this her?”
Bowing his head, Echo swallows down a bout of nausea as his stomach churns. “C-Can’t be. I watched them die. And then Rex… Rex was gone.”
“If there was a way… is this what she would look like?” Cody persists. “Cos I know who she looks like. The parts of her that aren’t Rex—”
Echo nearly leaps out of his skin as the door opens. The question dies on the Marshal Commander’s lips as Rex enters leaving Echo to sense there’s a lot unspoken in this household. But why? The air of ambiguity and denial lingering somewhere between stories and thoughts concerning this little one would be better off exposed to the light.
Except Echo knows better.
Knows there are certain memories best left in the past.
“Ready, Echo?” Rex asks.
｡.•°•.｡｡.•°•.｡
The barn is quaint and quiet with little change since Echo last saw it. Quietly seated on a stool, he pays little attention to his surroundings as he observes Rex tinkering away. With wires that spark and mechanics that are rusted, the whole arm is faulty at best.
Deadly at worst.
Which could put the little one in danger.
A little one that could very well be an older version of the infant he once knew. It’s impossible though. Despite what the Marshal Commander said, it’s implausible. Inconceivable. Incomprehensible. She’d be nearly twenty-five by now if she hadn’t died, and the implications of how she’d return from the grave—
“She’s cute,” Echo comments, determined to derail his darkening thoughts. Rex would never…
“She’s trouble,” he responds, short and curt.
“Trouble worth having,” he muses and looks at the stuffed massif she sent him with. A smile crosses his lips as he pets the fluffed fur. “She looks so much like—”
“No,” Rex growls, and the barn practically grows icy with tension. “She’s a foundling I rescued.”
Wincing at the severity of the reply, Echo didn’t mean to mention that. He didn’t mean to comment, it just slipped. A mistake. A grave mistake.
One that reminds him of the way Rex seemingly projects an emotion into the air around them. It’s been years since he last felt it, and despite his vod’s assertions, Echo will always believe a bit of the Force exists within the man.
In the next moment, however, the area returns to a neutral ambiance. Frowning, Echo’s never seen Rex so touchy, though the commander’s been tightlipped over matters before. Given the severity of the issue, it makes sense, he supposes.
“Are you okay, Rex?” Echo questions softly. Without the little one and without Cody, Rex should be free to express how he feels. There’s no judgment between them, no condemnation—never has been—and there’s no Marshal Commander to impress. Just two war buddies who were once two peas in a pod. “I can’t imagine any of this is easy for you.”
“’M fine.”
Echo nearly snorts at the dismissal. “Let me rephrase. You’re not okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You can talk to me, yanno?” Echo whispers. “Like we used to.”
For a moment, Rex hesitates and looks up at him. Years of heartbreak and devastation flood to the surface, surging at the gates behind his eyes, and nearly knocking Echo off his stool before the commander steels himself and continues working on the hand.
A slip-up for sure, but tension shifts in Rex’s shoulders as if it takes a tremendous amount of effort to keep it hidden.
“I thought you learned bottling emotions wasn’t good for you?”
“Have an eighteen-month-old Force user to care for,” he answers without looking over, but there is an underlying tone of sincerity and vulnerability laced in his voice. “Don’t have the luxury of emotions.”
There are pieces of Echo’s battered heart that shatter with that truth. While Echo suspects his vod’s been bottling emotions for far longer, it’s tragic he can’t let anything out. “She senses your every emotion?”
He nods as he finishes fixing the arm. “’f I’m sad, she’s sad. If I’m unhappy, she’s unhappy. If I’m angry, she’s scared.”
“There has to be a way you can still have emotions.”
“None that I’ve found. Not that it matters. Everything’s in the past.”
“I thought that, too, until I got here.”
Rex looks up at him. “What’d’ya mean?”
“I was surviving, healed from the past or so I thought.” Echo rubs his shoulder. “Then I get here and there are nightmares and thoughts I haven’t had in years. Since before… well, after… I don’t know.”
Swallowing roughly, Echo wonders if he’s pushing things too far. Instead, Rex merely nods as he begins hooking the arm back up.
Looking around the barn, Echo studies the cobwebs hanging high in the rafters, the layer of dust on the railing of the second floor—all indicators of the gravity of the situation. When Rex is on his game, these things simply do not exist in the same space. He has immaculate attention to detail and loves when things are spotless, which seems to have returned for the moment given his work on Echo’s arm.
The barn, though, confirms the grief Echo knows exists within.
“Oiling up is recommended after every five thousand lightyears,” Rex teases.
Echo looks over and smiles. “I’ll need a sticker to remind me.”
“You’ll have to fight Asha for one.” He pauses to admire his handiwork. “You’re lucky it held up this well.”
“You made it.”
“I was taught by the best. Anakin was…”
Echo swallows roughly as Rex moves onto a leg.
Leaning on the table, Echo takes a deep breath. “I… I only heard rumors. Did General Skywalker really… Do you know for a fact? 'Cos I just don’t understand. I don’t see how it could be. I don’t. I can’t. After everything…”
Rex pauses as his shoulders slump. “Y…Yeah, it was him.”
“He was Lord Vader? But… why?”
Rex rubs the back of his neck. “Anakin was in a relationship with Senator Amidala. He feared Padme was gonna die, and Palpatine offered him a chance to save her. Only, he was deceived.”
Echo looks at him. “How could he do such a thing?! How could he do that to us?!”
“It’s not an easy answer, Echo. He wanted to save her. I know the lengths someone would go through—”
“But you didn’t!” Echo snaps, hands hitting the table before he points at Rex. “You had the choice, and you chose otherwise.”
“What would you know?”
“I know you.” Echo can’t stand for dramatic effect, but he looks at Rex. “And unless you brought that little girl back from the dead, you chose differently.”
“She’s… She’s not…” Rex works on the leg as he clears his throat. “…mine, ‘f that’s what you’re thinkin’. But Jango… he thought she was.”
“You… talked to Prime?”
“I don’t know what the damned Force was thinking by giving me her,” he growls, sidestepping the question entirely. “I can’t stand the Force much these days. But… I am thankful it brought you back. I’ve missed you, Echo.”
Sadness flickers in Rex’s eyes before that too disappears behind a transparisteel wall indicating any further conversation of that type is out of the question.
Leaning on the table, Echo watches as his vod works diligently on one leg. His best friend, his close brother, a man who’s always been there for him is in more pain than Echo could ever think possible. Echo’s been torn apart and remade into a monster, but that pales in comparison to what life has done to Rex.
And another piece of his heart shatters at the thought.
Drawing a breath, Echo does the only thing he can think to do.
Reaching out, he pats Rex’s arm. “I’ve missed you, too.”
