Warnings: MayCrossTech, sfw, cuddling for warmth, they talk...a bit
Wordcount: 1,017
“You should sleep-while he's…down.” Crosshair said, brushing a stray curl off Tech's forehead.
Mayday sighed, adjusting the gun in his lap, “My adrenaline is still racing, I couldn't even if I wanted to.”
Crosshair grit has teeth. He understood but the situation had gone from bad to worse, they both needed to be aware-for whenever Tech woke up again.
“It’ll be okay Crosshair.” Mayday's voice, usually calming, did nothing to soothe him.
“I thought-” Crosshair licked his lips, “ I thought that Tech would be able to do something, after he’d rested. Fix the ship, even just enough to send a transmission. But now he's-”
Gone.
“We’ll figure something out.”
“What is there to figure out? This planet doesn't even seem to have animals. I doubt there's even a civilization nearby. We have ration bars” Crosshair gestured with one hand to the pouring rain, “it's only because of that we have water and haven't been found. Probably. And Tech-” Crosshair felt his voice catch and he turned his face away, embarrassed.
“I don't need platitudes. I need plans.” Crosshair bit out, thinking of Tech. A handful of numbers ran through Crosshair’s head, plans the genius had made for if they'd been captured or lost. He'd wondered why the rest of the batch hadn't gotten to Tech. Even with Tantiss's high security Tech would have found a way to get a message out. Now Crosshair understood why he hadn't. Crosshair had had….hope, after they'd found Tech. Mayday had held him together but Tech was the missing piece that built him back up.
He doesn't even remember you.
Mayday let him stew and it was quiet for a long while. Crosshair looked up at a jerk of movement and Mayday cleared his throat.
“Did you fall asleep?”
“...yeah maybe.” He looked sheepish but the dark shadows under his eyes only made Crosshair worried.
Crosshair sighed, “I don't-
Tech groaned softly and Mayday shot to his feet, gun pointed at them.
Crosshair froze as pale-bright green eyes opened to meet his own.
Tech looked confused, then surprised.
“Crosshair?”
“You have got to be shitting me.” Crosshair heard Mayday mutter but he couldn't bring himself to look away as Tech sat up on his elbows, glancing around weakly.
“Wha-where are we?”
“Crosshair -” Mayday's voice was careful, a warning- Crosshair held up a hand.
“Tech, what's the last thing you remember?” He asked.
Tech's brows furrowed, “We were attempting to retrieve information about where to find you - I fell..?” He grabbed at his head. Crosshair reached out and Mayday took a step closer, Crosshair sent him an annoyed look that Mayday only returned.
“I fell…but then I woke up? There was a man-but I cannot remember who….after that I cannot recall much.”
Tech paused, finally focusing on Mayday, then on the gun he had in his hands.
“Ah.”
“It's not what you think.” Crosshair said with a wince, “He's a…friend.”
“I would ask why he is holding us at gunpoint but it would not surprise me that you would have a friend who would do so.”
Mayday smirked, “Well he knows you now, that's for sure.”
Crosshair sent him a glare, then turned to Tech, looking serious, “Tech…Something happened when you woke up earlier.”
“You tried to kill Crosshair.”
Tech and Crosshair's gaze shot to Mayday, both with varying degrees of disbelief.
Crosshair put a hand on Tech’s shoulder, “You got taken to Tantiss, like us. A scientist called Hemlock-” Visions of the man standing above him as he writhed in pain, with that empty look of satisfaction on his face, had Crosshair faltering before he let out a breath, saying quietly, “He likes to experiment…clones are especially expendable. Whatever he did- you didn't remember me. And then you just...”
The words trickled off and Tech's face twisted but he raised his hand to cover his brother's.
“I am sorry Crosshair.”
Crosshair smirked, “Well it's only fair. Turnabout yeah?”
“Technically-” Tech’s hand went instinctively to push at his goggles as he spoke but blinked when he found nothing but scarring. He ran over the beginnings of it but pulled away with a grimace.
Crosshair winced, “We have no clue where your goggles are Tech- we had to escape and they weren't anywhere nearby.”
“I-” Tech looked around the cave, licking at his lips, “I can see perfectly without them.”
His glowing green eyes found Crosshair's. It wouldn't make sense for a soldier to not be able to see. They had worried about it as shinies, when the Kaminoians couldn't correct the oversight. Crosshair remembered how Tech crawled into his bunk at night, clutching at him like it was the last time he'd be able to. And when he started to ask questions like he only had so much time to hear the answers.
Then came the goggles.
Tech had made them on his own. They fit his face perfectly, barely shifting during combat, even designing his bucket around them.
He showed he wouldn't falter.
Part of Crosshair missed the contact after. Tech no longer came to him for comfort but he flourished. He was confident and became wholly his own person. In a wave of clones it was a good thing. But even though they were a defective batch to other clones, Crosshair selfishly wanted Tech to still be his twin.
It was too complicated of a feeling to really put into words.
But seeing Tech now, without his goggles, made Crosshair feel like a shiny all over again.
He was so tired of it.
Tech cocked his head and that, at least, was familiar, Crosshair's hand tightened over Tech's.
“Well honestly that helps one glaring issue.” Mayday's voice broke up the stale air between them.
“What issue?” Tech questioned, like Mayday wasn't holding him at blaster point.
“We need to contact someone to get us off-planet-”
Because now, even without his goggles, Tech's gaze was sharp.
Tech stood, Crosshair let his hand slip off Tech's shoulder. Mayday's aim followed but he ignored the weapon and ran his hand along the wall of the cave, looking for a minute at the pouring rain, before turning back.
Now instead of feeling left behind Crosshair felt...hopeful.
important reminder that most people you follow online are significantly lamer than you think they are including me. and if you feel insecure comparing yourself to someone online: DON'T. theyre probably also lame and weird. most people on the internet are
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Another requested one from @tinkerbell46love! Even though I had to use a different prompt from the board for it, I still hope you enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it
Some Tech whump! (that I'm definitely not excited for because he scorned me recently, why would you even think that?) Crosshair gets to walk away happy and healthy from this one
It's going to be longer than planned but here's a good 1000 words to start
The wind immediately fought the motions Crosshair made to pull the poncho back down over his head. He was already soaked, the rain practically drowning him in his attempt to climb out of the seat he was in. He reached to grab the gun by his feet, pulling it over his head by the strap so it sat on his back. A tiny white emergency case was hastily shoved under his poncho to protect it from the weather. Crosshair scrambled back out, something sparked by his foot as he slid down the side of the tiny ship, boots meeting the ground in a wet slap of mud up both legs. He made a face and tried to ignore the feeling of it, looking out past the smoking wreckage. It was flat as far as he could see, the sleet of rain making it impossible to tell if there was anything else. Thunder rumbled nearby, heralding an even bigger storm, the flashing lightning in the distance made him pause. It wouldn't be smart to stay in the ship, it couldn't fly and would be tracked, and with the storm it was basically a giant neon sign saying 'hey come fuck me'. Crosshair curled his shaking hand into a fist and turned towards the others.
Doomed narrative or not, they had escaped Tantiss together, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip past his fingers.
“We're moving out.” Crosshair yelled into the wind.
The two figures also wore ponchos, though one was half slumped against the other. One man readjusted the arm over his shoulders and looked around, half dragging the other with them, their voice was gruff but questioning, “I'm not saying we shouldn't but to where?”
Crosshair moved closer, pulling the loose arm over his own shoulders to help, “For now: away from the fucking lightning.”
They started to move then, their third secured between them when Crosshair heard a barking laugh. He looked over, incredulous. Brown eyes caught his own, the skin around them crinkled in mirth, and maybe a bit of dirt,
“I’m just thinking of the last time we were walking through a storm.”
Crosshair gave him a deadpanned look as best as could over the head in between them, before rolling his eyes and turning away, “Don't remind me.”
“At least it's not snowing.”
“It still could.”
“Don't be so negative.”
“We almost died. YOU almost died.”
“But I got to be held in your arms. Not a bad way to go out”
Crosshair fumbled, almost dropping their third in the process and turned with a furious flushed look.
“Don’t ever say that again.” He hissed, hackled raised. Mayday looked shocked, Crosshair’s face shot away as the look turned contemplative. He glanced instead at Tech, who was slumped between them. If he was more aware, they'd be fine. But he wasn't. So.
“We need to find shelter.” Crosshair said, heaving Tech back into a more secure positioning. Mayday followed suit.
“I'm sorry Crosshair, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
Lightning flash behind them, and Crosshair couldn't hate the irony more.
Until.
He saw something over the flat vastness ahead.
Mayday eyes followed his line of sight. He squinted, and apparently unable to see himself asked, “Care to share with the class?”
“I think I see…something.” Crosshair pointed towards a blurry bump in the distance. “Looks like it rises up from the ground. ”
Mayday sighed, “ Hopefully whatever it is, has a roof.”
And with that they started towards it. The rain had worsened and so had the wind but the storm felt like it was going east of their position, at least for now. Some small token of luck Crosshair thought ruefully. He could tell Mayday was exhausting fast. They had been left to rot on Tantiss, and Mayday had been brought there half dead to begin with. At least sitting in a cell had left him time to heal. But it hadn't done much for them after that. They both had lost muscle mass, and stamina. Plus with Tech dragging between them and the weather, the odds were not in their favorite.
It was a quiet walk there between the two. Crosshair was used to the silence anyway. He zoned out, half walking on willpower alone, the other half fed off spite and waning adrenaline. So he jumped a little when Mayday whistled suddenly.
“Wow you were right. Your eyesight is really something.” Mayday held up his spare hand to shield his eyes, “ I think it's a cave? Looks like maybe a system of them.”
“Let's pick a hole.” Mayday sent him a look, which he ignored. He was too tired to be annoyed, or interested.
++++
It took them another twenty minutes to reach it. They paused at the mouth of it and Mayday had been right. It looked like a cave. Crosshair could see the back of it, though it seemed to turn right. Mostly made of some type of dirt, there wasn't any vegetation nearby. The ground felt harder though, so the mud stopped at the start of it. Crosshair already wanted to get inside. He was shaking hard at the cold by now and the tips of his toes and his exposed fingers felt numb.
“Take Tech.” Crosshair let his brother go and he reached for the gun at his back. It took two tries to pull it around. He held it up and clicked the light attachment. What part of the cave he could see looked empty. Definitely no signs of anything humanoid.
And nothing that was animal either. No defecation, no prints, no clawing or fur to show territory marking. It felt long undisturbed. Which honestly could go either way. Sometimes empty caves were that way for a good reason. Crosshair took a step inside to get out of the rain and pulled out the emergency pack.
“I'm going inside.” He fumbled with the clasp and pulled out a small scanner.
“Alone?” Mayday questioned, moving closer with Tech. Crosshair glanced back.
“We only have one gun. If I can't kill anything with it then what are your bare hands going to do? Plus we can't leave Tech alone. Not like…how he is.” They both glanced at Tech's slumped form. He still hadn't responded to much.
Mayday's lips twisted, looking reluctant he nodded, “ Just…be careful.”
- I don't have much of a concept other than maybe they're happily cuddling on a beach and sunbathing?
- As for everything else, I'll leave it to you. Whether it's a story or drawing, I'll be happy with anything you can come up with.
Thank you! 😊
A Puck for your thoughts
Tags/Warning: CrossTech, light angst with some jealousy built in, mild tease of NSFW
Im sorry it's not completely wholesome asfhjk
Wordcount: 868
Crosshair yawned, rubbing at one eye, before stretching out with a quiet, satisfied sound. He was laid out on top of his pelt, in nothing else but his sun-bronzed skin. No one was around-well no humans were anyway. He might have to watch for curious crabs but besides clicking pincers, and maybe some mated sea birds nesting nearby, nothing else was much of a threat. It was a perfect day to be on land- words Crosshair rarely voiced out loud. Waves of clouds drifted overhead, pale and soft, their shadows beached the shore in swatches of shade before teasing strings of sunlight. Crosshair dug his toes into the warm sand and relaxed.
A sharp bark nearby had him sighing. He sat up on his elbows and let his eyes pace the surface of the water. There was a ripple before two black eyes appeared, then a snout. The creature huffed, whiskers twitching before swimming closer. Something glittened brightly in the sun, catching Crosshair's eyes until he found the source of it, held lightly in the seal's teeth. He rolled his eyes and thought, of course, another piece of junk.
The seal moved closer then, most of its body breaking the surface of the sea now, its coat was a bright white, speckled with black spots and glittered lightly in the early morning sun, it bobbled up a few paces before shifting. The change was quick, the body twisting into a similar visage to Crosshair's own. Tech wasn't tiny by any means but compared to Crosshair's long lanky limbs he felt that way. He was still graceful as he stood, shifting his pelt to hold it in his hands, his beautiful dark skin was a lovely contrast to his pale white coat he'd just shed. Droplets of water flew off his hair as he flickered his short brown curls off his face, the tiny circular object still held delicately between his teeth. He pulled it neatly from between them and walked towards Crosshair.
“I found something you might like.” The other selkies voice was excited as he reached Crosshair, kneeling down. Crosshair sighed, playfully and held out his hand, Tech dropping the tiny object into his palm. It glimmered silver, perfectly round, and when Crosshair ran his thumb over it, completely smooth. He held it up to the sun and looked at it, it sparkled and he could see a tiny reflection of himself on the surface.
“I think it was used for reflecting rays of energy.” The words were rushed, and Crosshair knew he was in for a slurry of information.
Tech took his silence as acceptance and rambled on, “I believe it was used to aid in weapon fire. You simply anchor them to a surface and fire. The beam of energy will bounce off it and be redirected.” The selkie paused, hand coming to grab his own chin in thought, “You would have to be a skilled marksman to use it, it would be effective to see around tight corners as well. I don't have anything to test the theory however. But all my data seems to have collaborated with it.”
Crosshair huffed, curled his finger around it before dropping his hand. “You really need to stay away from those ships. You said so yourself. They have explosives-”
Tech scoffed, “Wrecker has set most of them off and disabled the rest, what is left is structurally sound.”
“They just… I don't know-” Crosshair couldn't admit it out loud but the ships felt. Haunted. He wasn't one of those hippy selkies who lived solely on land and refused to touch water but the vibes felt off. Dead but still decaying. It didn't help that there wasn't any natural light in them now, Tech used a batch of small sea jellies for that. And it cried, strange sounds echoed the last remaining voices of whatever was left. Little blue beams of static reflections of men. It was too much for Crosshair to understand. But Tech was enamored. He'd picked apart every piece of information he could, and thought of nothing else for months. He'd settled now, for the most part- until something like this was found. Crosshair didn't want to be jealous. It wasn't like any of the human men Tech studied were really there. But Crosshair understood one day they might be. The ships fell from the sky. Tech said since the stars moved that maybe they were other places- with all different types of people.
Crosshair selfishly hoped they never found out.
He pulled Tech down then, they landed softly in the sand, twisted together in their pelts. Crosshair buried his face into the space between Tech's neck and shoulder, nimbling it, possessive. He felt Tech's hardening interest against his thigh and grinned. He flicked the disk into the sand away from them and flipped so Tech was under him. He kissed him roughly then. Tech pushed into his touch, just as greedy, as they melted together. Crosshair gripped the pale pelt between his fingers as his hand searched for Tech’s, holding fast when their fingers finally met.
Their reflection warped as the puck glinted in the sun beside their bodies, half buried and forgotten.
Fic for prompt 'pearl' for MerMay 2026, in which everyone lives and nobody dies, for @letshareapapou
Fandom: The Bad Batch
Characters: Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Crosshair, Omega
Rating: G
Word Count: ~2500
Read Here on AO3
Synopsis:
“Cyst pearls are formed of a nacreous secretion in response to damage to the mantle in many common bivalve mollusc species,” he recited disdainfully. “The artificial instigation of the process has led to many planets cultivating these beads on an industrial scale, for trade as ornamentation, but they have little practical use or inherent rarity. Pabu is not unique in offering such goods.”
Tech finds out the origin of the natural pearls on Pabu
Critically injured as he had been, Tech had spent a long time in a coma – so long, that Hunter had begun to think he might never wake. Gone were the days of bacta-tank immersion to quickly heal catastrophic injuries so that clone troopers could be returned to the front lines. Though he trusted the medics of Pabu to care for his brother, they had no such technology to speed his recovery. They could only count on his genetically enhanced healing, and his body’s own stubbornness to pull him through.
By the time he woke, it felt like he had lived a lifetime over again. He and Wrecker crowded Tech’s bedside as the engineer came groggily to full consciousness, brown eyes watchful and wary in the hollow, pained lines of his face.
For a time, Tech cast about the room, seeming to struggle recognising his environment. Hunter cursed himself for not having brought a spare pair of goggles in all the time Tech had been unconscious.
There had been so many other things on his mind.
That was still no excuse.
Finally, Tech seemed to register Wrecker anxiously gripping his hand, and weakly patted his huge brother’s forearm in return.
“Crosshair?” he asked, voice thin and weak with exhaustion and disuse.
Wrecker’s face crumpled, unable to hold a lie. He glanced pleadingly at Hunter, though his broad, honest expression was all the answer Tech needed.
Hunter stilled his pacing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed tight and defensive over his chest – as though it was the only thing holding him together. For a moment his jaw worked soundlessly at an answer, teeth grit hard as his mouth struggled with the words.
The lack of reply was reply in itself. Tech closed his eyes, drawn and grey as his head sagged back to the pillow.
“I understand,” he murmured, a pained breath.
“We did everything we could.”
Hunter’s voice was rough, the words clipped with anguish. An admission of failure. A stubborn denial of responsibility.
Without looking, Tech waved a dismissive hand. Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He was gone as though the guilt was burning him.
For a handful of moments, Wrecker darted his head plaintively between the two of them, loyalty torn. Tech extricated his hand and pulled the covers up over his shoulders, rolling away, shrugging the protecting wall of blanket up over his head.
“I would like to be alone,” he murmured, and Wrecker left too.
*
His recovery was slow, awake for spans of time which were measured in minutes rather than hours. The medics counselled them to patience. His body was mending, but his mind was still exhausted. Waking drained him, and rest was the best thing for him.
It had been a month, with Tech sitting up in bed and remaining awake for longer and longer periods, when he finally said, “Where is Omega?”
Wrecker, who had been reading to him, stuttered over the line in his book and laid it down, gazing guiltily at his brother.
“She hasn’t been to see me,” said Tech slowly, as though testing the idea out loud. “Tell me what happened, Wrecker.”
“It…” Wrecker cringed, squirming under Tech’s intense stare. “It’s complicated. After you fell, Hemlock, he…”
The words choked off, clearly difficult to say. Tech’s expression remained motionless, gaze boring into his brother.
“You should ask Hunter,” said Wrecker at length, shoulders sagging in despondency. “He’ll prob’ly explain it better’n me.”
*
“Tell me what happened to Omega.”
The blunt opening to the conversation had Hunter flinching. His shoulders crept up to his ears, a scowl half-way between anger and heartbreak painting his features.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tech was still unsteady on his feet, walking with a cane, but his approach was inexorable.
“What happened after Hemlock captured her?” he asked, struggling to keep the accusation from his voice.
Hunter rounded on him with a snarl, shoving hard. Tech stumbled, staggered clumsily against the table which he clutched to hold himself upright.
“We were too late, alright?” said Hunter, and his low growl ached with bitterness. “Too late for her. Too late for Crosshair. Are you happy?”
For the first time, something stricken broke through Tech’s level expression. He shook as he pulled himself upright – he would have reached out, but he was not that man, and neither was Hunter.
“I… I understand,” he said curtly, locking down on the tremor of heartbreak which threatened his words. “I won’t ask again.”
*
Life on Pabu followed a slow, meandering pace, the days drifting lazily from one to the next with little to distinguish them. Phee visited him, as did Echo.
Tech didn’t ask about Omega again. He didn’t ask about Crosshair.
He carried that guilt, a hollow void in his chest, whenever he saw Hunter’s drawn features, the way his brother flinched and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Omega would still be here, if he hadn’t insisted they try and reach Crosshair. She had been Hunter’s world, and now she was gone, because of him. In trying to get Crosshair back, he had cost them both, and nearly lost his own life in the bargain.
No wonder Hunter couldn’t speak about it; could barely look at him. Oh he was there every day, gruffly attending to Tech’s needs, making sure he wanted for nothing. But there was a distance between them that Tech didn’t know how to bridge.
He wondered if he ever would.
*
The afternoon sun beat down, too still and humid after weeks without wind. Pabu was stifling, and Tech was in a waspish mood.
“How about these, then?” asked Echo, his tone cajoling as he meandered between market stalls. The cyborg clone had stopped in front of a table festooned with strings of pearls, all sizes and colours, some natural, others gaudily dyed.
Tech frowned, pushing wire-rimmed glasses up his nose and leaning on his cane as he squinted grumpily at the array.
“Cyst pearls are formed of a nacreous secretion in response to damage to the mantle in many common bivalve mollusc species,” he recited disdainfully. “The artificial instigation of the process has led to many planets cultivating these beads on an industrial scale, for trade as ornamentation, but they have little practical use or inherent rarity. Pabu is not unique in offering such goods.”
Echo only chuckled at his assessment, pointing beyond the gaudy strings to a glass cabinet behind.
“What about these?” he asked, good mood not diminished. “These ones are natural, not cultured. Formed by nature, every one unique and brought back to the surface by skilled divers. Still unimpressed?”
With a sniff, Tech peered at the cabinet. The pearls within were certainly more appealing – less regular in shape, perhaps, and certainly far fewer in number than the abundant strings which loaded the table at the front of the stall. But they glowed with inner lustre, their soft, pearlescent shells reflecting the sunlight in a myriad colours, and he could not deny that they were objectively aesthetically pleasing to look at.
“You should ask Hunter to take you down to the docks, meet the divers,” said Echo blithely. “Evening’s the best time. You can go after dinner.”
*
Hunter had looked startled when Tech asked about the pearl divers. He immediately shot a suspicious look at Echo, who in turn suddenly became very busy with the contents of his dinner plate.
Tech’s wariness only increased when Wrecker bid them goodbye with a grin, and an enthusiastic, “Say hi from me!”
The long walk from their small house, winding down through the coiling streets of Pabu, only increased the awkwardness. Hunter was making senseless small talk, his thoughts scattered all over the place. Every time Tech tried to pull him back to the topic of the pearl divers, he just muttered, “You’ll see soon enough,” and increased his pace just enough that Tech felt winded keeping up, precluding further questions.
By the time they finally reached the docks the sun was low on the horizon, golden light streaming across the water’s surface. Hunter helped Tech into a small boat without comment, before guiding it out onto the open water.
When he finally cut the engine, letting the boat drift with the waves, he pulled out a familiar mirrored disk. Tech straightened, suddenly alert, as Hunter used the reflector puck to flash a signal out across the water.
“That is Crosshair’s,” he stated, and Hunter merely nodded.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”
No matter Tech’s burning curiosity, Hunter refused to be drawn with further questions. Tech found himself instead scanning the water’s surface intently, watching the way the sun glittered off of cresting waves to make him squint. The whole sea seemed to radiate inner light as it reflected the peach-glow tones of the setting sun.
A splash. A swimmer’s head bobbed above the surface of the water, and Tech startled. Surely they were too far out from sure for anyone to be swimming, and he hadn’t seen another watercraft about. Theirs was the only boat in sight.
Then, “Huntah!” a familiar voice cried.
Tech almost bolted from his seat, and it was only Hunter’s lightning-fast lunge that grabbed him and stopped him going over the edge. He clung on to his brother, craning to see out over the water.
“Omega?” he asked incredulously, and Hunter nodded.
The figure was swimming closer, cutting cleanly through the waves with the flick of a… Tech blinked, pushed his glasses up, rubbed at his eyes. Surely he wasn’t seeing right.
Omega pulled alongside their boat, lifting herself up over the side with strong, tanned arms and a beaming smile. “Tech! You came to see us!”
“I… I did,” Tech stammered in bemusement, letting Hunter guide him back down to the bench. He reached out for Omega who pulled him into a damp embrace, soaking saltwater into his clothes and skin, though he didn’t care. He held her tightly for a moment, chin hooked over her shoulder, feeling dazed. Then he pulled back, sending his gaze down the rest of her body.
“You are…”
His voice failed, mind stuttering to find the right word. Omega only grinned and pushed back from the boat a little, spinning a barrel-roll in the water which showed off the twisting length of a gold-and-brown scaled tail where her legs used to be.
“Do you like it?” she said cheerily, and he had no choice but to nod for the enthusiasm in her voice. “It took a while to get used to, but I’m good at it now.” She swam back up to the boat, clinging on to the side once more, and her smile turned soft. “I’m so happy to see you, Tech,” she said, her words earnest and aching with love. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Hunter gave a tired smile; there was still pain in his eyes, but he looked proud. “I told you he was getting stronger by the day,” he said, glancing at Tech with his own soft adoration. “He asked to meet the pearl divers.”
Omega gasped, excitement lighting her features. “Can I tell Crosshair?”
At Hunter’s nod she gave a squeal and then she was gone, diving back beneath the sun-scattered waves. Tech fixed Hunter with a piercing look, something stern attempting to vie with the awe in his face.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” he said, to which Hunter looked sheepish.
“I didn’t know… there was no easy way to explain. You would have asked questions I don’t have the answers to.” Hunter looked pained, looked away. “I’m sorry. That I didn’t tell you sooner.”
Whatever Tech might have said was cut short when an explosion of seawater rocked their boat, fountaining up as a streamlined silver figure torpedoed out of the water and into their ship.
“Crosshair?”
The sniper had always been tall, and his lean, lanky torso was almost unchanged except for the gills which now flared beneath his jaw, the fins which bladed his spine and arms and webbed between his fingers. But the lower two-thirds of his body was a powerful, aquiline tail, shimmering pearl-white, which thrashed about the boat as he did he best to drag himself upright and over to Tech who had been knocked to the floor in shock.
For a moment the brothers hung face to face, Tech blinking in stunned silence behind his glasses, Crosshair’s own penetrating gaze narrowed in suspicion. The eponymous ink around his orbit was salt-faded, but it was definitely him, the brother he had last seen on a receding platform as they left Kamino. The brother whose voice had called out a warning on a long-distance radio signal which he hadn’t known would reach its target–
“Plan 88. You were supposed to hide.”
Crosshair’s voice, a sibilant hiss, cracked with emotion. Heartbreak fractured across his features, quickly replaced by a scowl, as though challenging Tech to defy him.
Tech’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before he pushed himself forwards. Instead of words, he flung his arms round his brother, clinging on to his neck and holding him close.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” The words were choked into the space beneath Crosshair’s gills, and the salt dampness of his skin hid any tears Tech did not want to admit to shedding.
Crosshair’s arms encircled him in response, crushing, and scales and skin chafed together as the brothers held each other. Then Tech became aware of the ragged rattling of his brother’s breath, the heaving of his chest, and he pulled back with concern.
Hunter was there, helping support Crosshair, guiding their reluctant brother back to the edge of the boat. With a stubborn snort Crosshair slithered over the edge, back into the water; after a moment beneath the waves he surfaced again, beside Omega, shooting a wounded look at the boat. At Hunter.
“You didn’t tell me he lived.” The accusation was snarled, and Tech looked in confusion between his twin and Hunter. “You told me–”
“The truth,” said Hunter shortly, though he looked ready to break under the attack. “He was hurt. Badly hurt, trying to rescue you.” Then, with some vehemence, “You’d have beached yourself and suffocated trying to get to him if I’d told you he was on Pabu. Of course I didn’t say anything.”
Crosshair turned his accusing stare on Omega. “You knew?”
His sister rolled her eyes, and shot an apologetic look at Tech. “Yes. And Hunter’s right. We really thought it was for the best.”
“Wrecker has been trying to bring you down here for weeks,” said Hunter softly, flashing a faint, guilty smile towards Tech. “You turned him down every time he asked you about going fishing.”
“I have no interest in fishing,” said Tech bluntly, still a little dazed. “However, now that I know what is out here…”
He trailed off, leaning over the edge of the boat and reaching one hand down towards the water. As one, Omega and Crosshair swam forwards, reaching up and capturing his hand in their own until all three of them were clasped, a single point of union and reunion.
The Bad Batch Alternative Universe fic. What if Crosshair hadn't followed the Empire? Read on to see who follows along, rebels, and struggles with the decision. Inspired by the following post and AMAZING artwork by @daidrm with comment discussion @tech-aficionado @gars-weaponeer @wrenkenstein @milesobrein @merkitty49
Warning: Star Wars canon violence, swearing, Jedi padawan is roughed up and choked but lives.
"RUN CALEB!!!"
To Crosshair it seemed a strange feverdream as the Regs shot at Deepa Biloba. He and his Batcher brothers stood in shocked silence as they watched Gree and his men mow her down with blaster fire…
Or so he ASSUMED his brothers looked on with shock.
Caleb Dume turned towards The Batchers with fear and ANGER in his eyes.
Are they…going to kill the PADAWAN? Crosshair couldn't wrap his mind around the death of the Jedi Master. Going after her Padawan seemed…unnecessary and…WRONG.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!"
Caleb spun away, fleeing into the forest.
"Terminate the Padawan" Tech ordered. His voice suddenly cold, monotone, and EXTREMELY out of character.
"ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING??? Echo yelled though his helmet.
Are you fucking joking indeed… Crosshair kept his mouth shut and emotions close to his vest. Something big and DISTURBING was happening. Best to keep quiet and assess the situation.
"HUNTER! WHAT'S GOING ON?" Echo demanded of his Sergeant.
Hunter never registered Echo's demand. Their brother GROWLED in a way Crosshair had NEVER heard before, as his brother hunched close to the ground, slowly unsheathed his vibroblade, and took off in pursuit…
After a KID!
Hunter was going to KILL Caleb…
Echo LIT UP with curses and questions, grabbing Tech by the arm, demanding answers.
Tech's reply chilled Crosshair to his very bones.
"YOU are in direct violation of Order 66." Tech slapped Echo's hand off him. "Stand down or your behavior will be considered an act of Treason and punishable by Termination."
"What the HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???" Echo ranted, continuing to outwardly and loudly question Tech's words and behavior.
Wrecker stood there, clearly in analysis paralysis, helmeted head flicking from Tech and Echo then back to Crosshair.
Crosshair shook his head in…confusion, anxiety…concern.
Then took off after Hunter and Caleb Dume.
Tracking was never Crosshair's ability. But following both is brother's and the padawan's tracks in the snow was easy.
That and the sound of blaster fire and Caleb's angry screams.
Crosshair slid down into a deep valley of trees to catch the end of Caleb's light saber battle defense against Hunter. The saber now laying out of reach upon the snow.
Hunter had the child pinned down with his lower body while Caleb struggled. One hand around the Padawan's neck in a firm choke hold.
As Crosshair ran closer, he could see Caleb started to turn red, struggling to remain conscious.
Hunter raised the vibroblade above his head.
HE'S GOING TO GUT THE KID???
No…Hunter would NEVER…
The blade in Hunter's grip reached it's apex.
"HUNTER! NO!!!" Crosshair's voice surprised even himself.
Hunter visibly paused, knife poised over Caleb…like a dog waiting for a command. His grip on Caleb loosened just enough for the Padawan to take a breath, opening his eyes.
Hunter shook his head.
The voice coming from Hunter's helmet sounded like his brother. But the words…from a total STRANGER.
"Good soldiers…."
Hunter visibly struggled with the rest.
…follow…orders."
A HUGE wave of DISGUST and FEAR rolled over Crosshair.
The knife in Hunter's hand plunged down towards Caleb as the child attempted to feebly Force block it.
Crosshair shot Hunter in the back.
The knife fell from Hunter's grasp as he collapsed with his full weight upon of Caleb.
Sounds of Reg Troopers approaching through the forest…
Kicking Hunter's body off of Caleb, Crosshair grabbed the front of the Padawan's tunic to haul him up out of the snow.
Caleb managed to regain enough high ground to force throw Crosshair down off his feet, regaining the light saber.
The move felt like he had been gut punched, and with the wind knocked out of him, Crosshair stared dumbly at the torn piece of tunic in his hand.
"Leave me alone!" The Padawan hissed.
Trooper voices getting closer…
"Kid…" Crosshair coughed, trying to sit up and breathe. "RUN. You're life DEPENDS on it!"
Caleb's face softened slightly with the realization Crosshair was letting him escape.
Cross managed to stand and watch as the Padawan ran, vaulting over the waterfall, and disappearing into the forest without a trace.
He quickly pocketed the torn piece of fabric…
Two Regs burst from the treeline as Cross turned to face them.
"Status report!" One of them barked.
"The Jedi has been terminated." Crosshair spoke passively to the Reg soldiers nodding his head towards the thundering waterfall. "Shot in the back and fell to his death."
Both soldiers glanced towards the falls, then Hunter, and back to Crosshair.
Cross anticipated their skepticism.
"Our brother has been injured by the Jedi. We must get him to Kamino for medical treatment."
Crosshair's statement seemed to suffice for both soldiers who commed the update to their command and for a holostretcher.
Good soldiers follow orders…and hardly question them…hmm…
The Marauder hovered over Kaller's littered battlefield as Crosshair loaded the holostretcher containing Hunter onto the ship.
Per usual Tech manned the pilot's seat. But his demeanor was off. Instead of his brother's usual relaxed posture while navigating, Crosshair noticed he seemed…stiff and severe.
Echo was NOT in his usual spot as copilot.
To Crosshair's horror, he was bound to one of the Marauder's bunks, still as death, and missing all of his prosthetics…
Wrecker sat in the back of the ship with an expression of extreme GUILT.
WHAT'S going on???
Crosshair's skin prickled with goosebumps at the thought of Tech or Wrecker purposely killing Echo…
"Echo has chosen to disobey Order 66." Crosshair recognized Tech's voice, but his tone and cadence was foreign. "WE are commandeering him back to Kamino. Echo will serve as an example to any of our brothers who refuse to comply with the Empire."
The eye's behind Tech's goggles contained a cruelty Crosshair had never ever seen before.
Crosshair numbly nodded, turning away to park the holostretcher.
"Good soldiers…" Tech called after Crosshair, leaving a very deliberate pause…
Shitshitshit!
Crosshair did his best to put FEELING into the lie…hoping the choice to parrot Hunter's words would fool Tech…
"Follow orders."
"Good. It is imperative that I KNOW you agree." Tech sniffed arrogantly, casting a disappointed and fleeting glance towards Wrecker…
Who visibly hung his head at the remark. Crosshair could see while Wrecker may have outwardly questioned what was going on, in true form he inevitably caved and obeyed Tech.
"No matter. Governer Tarken has ordered that YOU shall be examined by Nala Se for possible reconditioning."
Wrecker flinched and cowered.
WHO the fuck is Tarken? WHY is Tech giving all the orders? WHAT the HELL is GOING ON???
Crosshair strode to the back of the Marauder, parking himself in a seat next to the broken hearted Wrecker.
The ship powered up and took off from Kaller towards home.
Crosshair kept his helmet on the whole trip. It allowed him the privacy to keep eyes on EVERYONE. To his relief he could see Echo breathing regularly, meaning he had been stunned just like Hunter.
From his peripheral vision, Crosshair could see Wrecker STARING a hole through him.
"…WHAT???" Crosshair snapped.
Wrecker glanced around the ship for a beat. Then leaned in, whispering into Crossy's earpeice.
"Ya didn't…kill the little Jedi…did ya?"
Crosshair scoffed at Wrecker's question. Then glanced with uncertainty over at the incapacitated Hunter.
"I'm an arrogant asshole, Wrecker. NOT a TOTAL psychopath."
The reply seemed to abate SOME of Wrecker's anxiety. But not all of it. The larger clone slowly settled back into his seat while wrapping his arm around Gonky for emotional support.
Crosshair leaned back, propping up both feet, pretending to nap. It would be seen by the rest of his brothers as normal behavior per usual. Cross wanted them to assume that. And it would give him time to think.
Both brothers sat in troubled silence as the Marauder made it's way back to Kamino…
*Please message me if you want to be added or taken off taglist. Thanks!
Slight favor to ask, if you're up for it. I've been feeling a little Blegh lately and can use a little bit of a pick-me-up. I was wondering if you could draw or even write the batch in vodpile? Or it doesn't even have to be all of them but just a fluffy little piece of something is all I'm asking for honestly. Totally up to you if you do something, I just need a little serotonin boost so to speak and I've always loved your art so I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask.
❤️ I'm sorry you feel a bit blegh. As someone who is meh on a good day hearing things like 'it'll get better' sometimes just doesn't hit the way you want it to. All I can say is treat yourself kindly and surround yourself with people who will lift you up when you feel a bit down❤️
Hmm. I was pretty sure there was another request for a leafy but I can’t find the original ask/request for it so whoever out there who wanted a leafy here ya go
