#clone medic hopeless

[mwolf0epsilon]

Whumptober Day 22: Pick Your Poison

Prompt: Withdrawal

Summary: Stimpack usage out in the field was useful for keeping troopers going no matter how tired, hungry or stressed they might be. The problem was that sometimes campaigns lasted months on end...

[Withdrawal is a bitch and I doubt the stims used in the battlefield aren't addictive. This is also not the first time I've written a chatlog type fic but I'll doubt it'll be my last... I have elected to borrow a few medics for this so shoutout to @lost-on-kamino @ermakeys @purgetrooperfox @kkrazy256 and @gaeasun . I assigned your ocs some silly chat-handles for my own entertainment.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

The private medic comm channel was full on chaotic that day. Not that it wasn't generally chaos most other days, but this time it was for more than just info dumping or even venting one's frustrations over medical limitations or mishaps.

The 104th were back from a two month long campaign, and the on duty medics were besides themselves with worry.

All of the vode had come back severely addicted to the stimpacks.

Stimpack usage out in the field was useful for keeping troopers going no matter how tired, hungry or stressed they might be. The problem was that sometimes campaigns lasted months on end, which meant troopers who were regularly using stims to keep functioning, tended to become dependent on them even outside of battle.

Going through heavy drug withdrawal was not an easy process.

The symptoms made the vode volatile and somewhat unpredictable, and having an entire battalion going through it at the same time was beyond hellish.

The bouts of insomnia and irritability, mood swings, instances of depression and anxiety, full body aches and pains, constant cravings, fatigue and hallucinations, and the nausea spells came in waves. There was no resting for the medics.

But at least they had the medic comm channel to rely on.

---HyenaDon't has connected to The Hospital Clubhouse---

HyenaDon't: One of the vode I'm currently treating has gotten to the later stages of withdrawal.

HyenaDon't: His hallucinations are so bad he needs to be restrained.

HyenaDon't: Problem. He's allergic to the materials of the restraining straps.

RemRemRemRem: What are the straps made of? Leather? Polyester?

CMOric: Have you tried sedation?

HonHonHonCroissant: Have you tried sedating the vod?

HonHonHonCroissant: You owe me a drink.

HyenaDon't: I think they're polyester but I'm not sure...

RemRemRemRem: Swap out the straps for something else. If not just sedate and hope for the best.

HyenaDon't: Aite. We also have another vod that keeps vomiting.

HyenaDon't: None of the nausea medication is working.

PhylumPorifera: Are they on methadone or buprenorphine? A lot of the vode have weird reactions to buprenorphine.

HyenaDon't: He is. I'll swap the medication.

JackOfAllTrades: Besides the obvious how's everything going your side?

GoodnightMoon: Probably not great. We've had our fair-share of vode coming off stims after riots, raids and galas. Always sucks.

Twitch'ika: Oof...

HyenaDon't: Oh no yeah it's bad. We're down an entire battalion :(

KixxyCatDoll: :O

PitchlessWhisper: Just reminds me we're off to Umbara soon. Not gonna be a quick one either...

HyenaDon't: Join me in my misery Blue Boys :')

CMOric: We'd rather not.

JackOfAllTrades: :|

Optimist: Least your men are all intact. Withdrawal's a bitch but they'll live.

NotAThief: Way to set the mood Hopeless.

Optimist: Am I wrong?

MotherHen: Well no but that kind of killed the mood...

HonHonHonCroissant: What mood? We were already talking about allergies and hallucinations...

HyenaDon't: Gotta go, one of the boys just broke off into a sprint and my CMO is gonna have my shebs if I don't keep things in check.

MotherHen: Oh? Who's doing a runner?

HyenaDon't: .... Commander Wolffe...

GoodnightMoon: Isn't that one of Fox's ori'vode?

RemRemRemRem: Send holos. I need something to lure Fox in for a checkup.

HyenaDon't: Lmao will do.

Twitch'ika: Are we allowed to blackmail our superior officers into checkups?

JackOfAllTrades: When they're as stubborn as a CC?

JackOfAllTrades: Yes.

Twitch'ika: :O

PhylumPorifera: You're corrupting him...

JackOfAllTrades: Nah, just opening up new horizons for the kih'vod :)

PhylumPorifera: You're corrupting him!!!

Twitch'ika: I have seen the light.

PhylumPorifera: Twitch no!

KixxyCatDoll: No...

CMOric: We lost another one boys :(

Optimist: Alas they grow up too fast.

MotherHen: We shall miss your innocence Twitch

NotAThief: Lol what innocence? Twitch is a little fiend.

RemRemRemRem: Someone who smiles that much has got to have a dark side to them...

-HyenaDon't sent I_wasnt_decanted_for_this.png-

JackOfAllTrades: AHAHAHAHAH

KixxyCatDoll: Where are his clothes????

Optimist: Ah.

PhylumPorifera: MY EYES

Twitch'ika: How did he get up there?

GoodnightMoon: :O

CMOric: :O

HonHonHonCroissant: :O

MotherHen: :/

NotAThief: Oh I didn't need to see that.

RemRemRemRem: Uh, guess it runs in the batch.

PitchlessWhisper: What the kark does that mean?!

RemRemRemRem: Wouldn't you like to know.

HyenaDon't: I'm going to have to get him down somehow.

HyenaDon't: Force help me...

JackOfAllTrades: Lmao good luck!

---HyenaDon't has disconnected from The Hospital Clubhouse--- Yeah the medic comm channel helped cope with the horrors of having to deal with several hundreds of men going through different stages of withdrawal. It still didn't save the medics from having to deal with the shenanigans that came out of it, however.

Now how Hyena was going to get Commander Wolffe safely down from the rafters, he did not know...

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #whumptober2022 #clone medic coric #clone medic kix #clone ocs #clone medic remedy #clone medic nocte #clone medic croissant #clone medic twitch #clone medic pitch #clone medic hopeless #clone medic magpie #clone medic henny #clone medic sponge #clone medic canivete #clone medic hyena

[staycalmandhugaclone]

You'll Have to Go Through Me (Hidden Scene)

Part (7) of You'll Have to Go Through Me, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

So... shortly after I made that posting requesting Unhinged Asks, I got a bit caught up with this scene. Loads of things happen outside of Doc's viewpoint that I know about, but y'all don't, and I felt like this was worthy of it's own mini chapter. (Plus, it's been too long since I've written Echo) - gonna go play with all your fun prompts now! Thank you!!

also, this was written mostly on my phone at night when I couldn't sleep, soooo apologies if it reads a bit different, I guess?

Warnings: Just some standard guilt, angst, and regret, along with a little sprinkling of profanity.

WC: 1,172

She hadn’t seen him. Crosshair had needed only that split-second flash of black cloth stark against pale skin as Echo ducked behind a tree, but the woman beside him had merely kept walking forward in obvious ignorance to the arc’s presence. He so nearly ignored the man, but some relentless annoyance, a nagging thought that had tormented him since those words left her lips forced him to fall back, encouraging her to continue on with a teasing quip before retreating into the blessedly dim halls of the Marauder.

“Don’t tell Echo what I did.”

His lips twitched into the beginnings of a snarl as that broken plea reverberated through the silence, hands clenching into fists against the way his chest twisted, revolting from the consuming shame he’d failed to chase from her tormented eyes. Suppressing that ache that he refused to call guilt beneath the familiar veil of anger, the slender clone leaned against the durasteel wall near the bunkroom door, hand thoughtlessly bringing a toothpick to his lips in the vain hope that it might offer some fleeting distraction as his gaze settled on the open ramp before him; waiting.

There was a heavy resignation in the droop of his shoulders as Echo finally entered the ship, brow just taut enough to hint at a crease. He stopped after taking only a few strides into the cabin, allowing himself a mere handful of seconds before turning to meet Crosshair’s narrowed eyes.

“Felt like gloating some more?” Whatever guilt threatened to haunt him at the nearly hopeless defeat vainly hidden with feigned impatience in Echo's scowled greeting vanished as the memory of that quiet request struck him once more. He said nothing for a long moment, arms looped across his chest as he seemed to be sizing up the older man.

“If I wanted to do that, I would have dragged her in here with me.” He retorted, knowing the image of him pressing their coveted medic flush against the metallic walls would only send the arc further into that torturous spiral.

“Then what the hell do you want, Crosshair?!” He finally growled, hands clenched into fists as his entire body tensed.

“Figured it was time someone told you to quit moping about.” He answered, purposefully tilting his head back to look down at his newest brother. “She’s got enough to deal with without worrying about whether or not you hate her now.” The flash of wounded horror on Echo’s face rekindled that flush of guilt, but the dread that darkened his brother’s eyes gave him pause. It took only a beat for understanding to wash over him, and his arms slowly fell to his sides.

“Who told you?” he asked, voice dropping into something just shy of a whisper as though there were still some point to maintaining an air of secrecy. Body deflating beneath a deep, mournful exhale, Echo looked toward him with an almost desperate regret.

“Tech.” He answered quietly before letting his gaze fall. “She… dammit, she shouldn't have…” His voice failed  him, breath too near breaking to risk anything more. Crosshair pulled the sliver of wood from his lips, gaze blindly watching it roll between his fingers as he let his own guilt rob him of that façade of anger.

“You think she'd be any better off if she just stood back and let them take you?” He asked, but there was no venom in words that could so easily have been filled with malice and blame. Still, Echo's eyes slid closed beneath a weariness the sniper knew too well, weighted by the futility of a regret neither could fix with useless if-only's.

“Doesn't matter…” Cross muttered with a sigh. “It’s done, and you avoiding her like this is only making things harder.” A glint of that earlier annoyance returned to his sharp gaze.

“I know.” Echo barely whispered the broken murmur, head hanging to his chest. There was no gentle comfort in the seconds of quiet that lingered between them, but the sympathy Crosshair couldn't help but feel silenced further rebukes.

“What's your plan?” he asked instead. Echo let out a deep breath, gaze shifting to stare blindly at the paneling above them.

“Probably something stupid.” Despite the tension filling the small room, Cross let out a huffed chuckle, lips just twisting into a smirk.

“Watch yourself, arc.” He warned, but the warmth in his raspy voice robbed whatever threat might have otherwise sharpened the retort, and Echo responded with a half-hearted grin of his own.

Shoulders rolling to ease the residual stiffness from his muscles, Crosshair slipped the rifle from his back and set it carefully in its case before thoughtlessly beginning the process of stripping himself of his armor.

“You coming?” He asked once his gear was safely tucked away. Echo's jaw tensed, gaze shifting to the door just behind him.

“Not yet.” The unspoken plea in his words, the guilt laced through a sorrow the hardened soldier made no effort to hide was enough to still whatever sharp insult bated on Crosshair’s tongue. “Tonight.” He offered by way of some forced compromise. “I'll talk with her tonight… just… I need a little more time.”

Cross said nothing, fighting back the initial urge to bully the man onto complying if only to avoid the look he knew he'd see in Doc's eyes the instant she realized he wasn't there, but the devastation was still too raw in Echo’s voice for even him to dismiss it. Slipping the toothpick back between his teeth, Cross turned toward his supply crate once more and pulled the skintight shirt smoothly over his head. His brother looked at him with something dancing between confusion and skepticism, but he merely tossed the fabric onto the lid of his tote before starting toward the ramp.

“Figure I'll give her something else to think about if you’re still too chicken-shit to look at her.” Even Echo couldn't help but scoff at the haughty boast, stunned into silence just long enough for his brother to reach the sand.

“Crosshair.” He finally called, forcing some hint of a smile on his lips as the tall man glanced back to him. “Take care of her.” There was something more to that feigned order, some trace of denial that even the arc couldn't let himself acknowledge.

“I don't need you to tell me that.” The snarl that just touched his words withered as their eyes met, and Crosshair remembered how useless he'd felt watching Doc break as Wrecker held her through the night. “I'm trying.” His gaze fell as the strained words flitted past tense lips, and neither spoke again as the depth of his own insecurities threatened to drown him.

When he finally looked back up, he wasn't surprised to see the arc mirroring his own uncertainty. With a knowing nod Echo turned, vanishing into the ship. Fingers tensing in and out of an nervous fist, Crosshair hesitated just a moment longer before releasing a short breath and beginning the long trek to the beach.

(Btw, I did my first series of trimming down the taglist today. Those still included, thanks for all of your support and love!! And if I overlooked someone who still wants to be included, feel free to let me know!

- Also, anyone that's filled out the form and isn't getting tagged, that's because Tumblr won't let me tag you... apologies, but I don't know why or how to fix it.

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @kixs-husband @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings @manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base @daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan @drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy @mooncommlink @isthereanechoinhere96 @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh @blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep @amorfista @wanderneverlost @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil @roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl

#star wars #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #tbb #tbb crosshair #crosshair #echo #tbb echo #arc trooper echo #bad batch #guilt #angst #profanity #shirtless crosshair #yes that needed it's own tag

[seriowan]

by water and ice (crosshair x gn!reader)

“There is more to your story, Crosshair. Fight to live through it.”

summary: cold and hopeless, crosshair is struggling to continue fighting for his survival. as he considers the prospect of giving up, he is visited by a ghost of his past and is forced to rethink his entire future...

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for tbb s2ep12; discussions about death; angst

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this is me coping after episode 12. did i cry a lot? mmmaybe. will i ever be the same after watching episode 12? mmmmnoiamsufferingsomuchjustthinkingaboutcrosshair

In a sick way, he knows it is a punishment. He’s always been cold and unyielding, like the storm that seeks to bury him alive.

   The grand peak of every choice brought him to this point; the point when he has nothing to do but drown in the snow with ice in his lungs. It is in this vast, white sea of consequence that he sits and wonders if he could have changed things in the past. It is in the face of death when he is forced to question what reality would have looked like if he didn’t utter the words that possessed and cursed his body… 

   Good. Soldiers. Follow. Orders. 

   He was once a good soldier. He did as he was supposed to do but now… it all had a weight to it that he didn't quite understand. He made the choices and he followed the orders given to him, but at what cost? Why is it that now, in this spotlessly white hell, he finally questions where he went wrong? 

   It's like a loop of his choices with Cody’s voice echoing in a narration of guilt. 

   “We make our own choices… and we have to live with them too.” 

   He isn’t living with them. Not anymore. He is going to die with them. Every single choice made since Kaller plays over and over like memories that were never his. Actions with consequences that he thought he could ignore or fight off because he was just following orders. 

   But he knows the truth. 

   Death often gives clarity to those who are lucky enough to have a moment of thought before it greets them. In his charcoal armor, shivering alongside a soldier in white and straps of cloth, Crosshair knows that he is the ink spot spilled across the white paper. The stain. His wretched heart has been cold since the beginning but now… now it feels like he has no heart. Like he is just a husk of helplessness, latching onto the one thing that could bring him a bit of purpose — if just for a brief moment. 

   Mayday’s breaths are shallow. The skin of his neck is hot. He burns from the inside out while Crosshair freezes little by little. They remain huddled together in the shelter of a jagged mountainside, sharing the smallest bit of comfort in dying beside a brother. 

   Crosshair finds himself hearing different voices with each one of Mayday’s pained noises. He hears Hunter, sporting a wound in his side from Felucia. He hears Tech, shot down by the training droids in the training facility. He hears Echo every time Mayday exhales with a tremble, cold and frail from the cryogenic chamber. He hears Wrecker, lying on a medical table with the side of his face bandaged beyond recognition. 

   He squeezes his eyes shut at a realization. 

   All he remembers is pain.

He tries to think back to the good times, but they feel stained by his own hand. He can’t think of their past time together, the good times, without remembering Hunter’s wounded look of betrayal when they first faced each other as enemies. Without thinking of Omega’s cry of panic when he shot Wrecker in the chest. He feels the resurging pain in his head like a reminder that he went far enough for them to nearly kill him in response. 

   And for what? False belief in an Empire that controls him and every other clone like a puppet on strings? 

   Meaning? Glory?

   There is too much shame to call it glory. The only word that he can bring to the lips of his chattering mouth is regret. 

   Regret for it all. 

   Regret for what he’d already done. 

   Regret for what he will do. 

   “Crosshair.” 

   At first, he thinks he is hallucinating. Hours have passed since his last drink of water. Hours of trudging through snow and watching his limbs turn black from ice. His body is weak but his mind is brittle, holding onto the thin string of life from the man hunched over by his side. 

   Then he hears it again. 

   “Crosshair…” 

   There was one person who used to say his name so delicately. He remembers their hands — oh, the gentleness of their touch against his cheek. Or the sweetness on their lips that tasted like tea and honeydew. He can remember the softness of their skin and the cotton robes they once wore, scented of incense and pine and everything earthy. So unlike him in his heavy, charcoal armor. 

   But he remembers the pain. The striking grief in their eyes as they lay dying at his feet. A fatal shot to the chest, done with his very own hand. His brothers are unaware that he fired the first shot - the fatal shot - before the regs arrived. They assumed that the Jedi went down alongside Billaba because that is what he told them.

   But Crosshair knows the truth. He knows that what he did was more than just following orders. It was a deliberate murder and he was the tool, now discarded among the blizzard and left to slowly rust and crumble. 

   “Crosshair…” 

   He forces his eyes open, snowflakes caked across his lashes. He squints, looking through the white gusts in search of their voice — that sweet song that pulled him so far from reality, reminding him of a life gone by. 

   When he sees the glowing blue silhouette walking toward him, Crosshair can’t help but sag his shoulders in relief. He doesn’t have the energy for questions, nor the capacity for fear. There is no reason to keep him grounded as he watches the figure walk peacefully through the blizzard, every little snowflake going right through it with ease. 

   The first thing he notices is your smile. Gentle and inviting, as it always was until your very last moment. Your eyes are different than when you died — peaceful, kind, so full of sympathy that made him feel so small. 

   When you crouch beside him, resting a gentle hand on his face, there is no sense of touch or warmth. Your image fizzes like static, lips suddenly flicking down in a soft frown. 

   “You look tired, my love.” 

   He huffs through his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. It almost feels normal, like you’re both picking up right where you left off — long before Kaller could even become a thought. 

   “C-Cyare,” he stutters, the corner of his mouth lifting as he trembles. “I-I m-missed y-you.” 

   "I know," your murmur, sympathy pooling in your eyes before falling down your cheeks. When the droplets fall off your chin, they make no impression in the snow.

When your gaze shifts down to Mayday, you give a gentle sigh.

   “‘No point in carrying deadweight,’” you echo, causing him to look away. “What has changed since you said those words to him?” 

   “You’ve c-come from the J-Jedi afterlife to p-preach to me?” He chuckled humorlessly. “S-Some things don’t ch-change.” 

   You crack a small smile but it is short-lived.

“Crosshair… your thoughts have been a burden to you for too long. Speak to me. You know the dead tell no tales.” 

   “Stop.” Wounded eyes hold onto yours, bleeding guilt and anguish. “Stop it. I did this t-to you. I killed you. I c-can’t talk to y-you without picturing w-what h-happened-”  

   “If it wasn’t you,” you whisper, “It would have been someone else… and in truth, I wouldn’t have wanted to die by anyone’s hand except yours. My life was destined to end one way or another. Now, tell me... when did you change your mind?” 

   Crosshair spares a glance at Mayday before looking back at you.

“I-I don’t know.” 

   “Yes, you do, my love. What did you feel when he was buried and you were alone again?”

  The word bounces through his skull, causing him to grimace. Slowly, his lips move on their own accord. 

    “Fear.” 

   “Of being alone?” 

   He slowly nods. “He d-doesn’t deserve to d-die like this.” 

   “And you do?” 

   The question takes him by surprise. Crosshair has no choice but to stare at you, searching your pale eyes for the answer to why you were here in the first place. Still, he speaks. 

   “A-After everything I’ve d-done…” He palms his head in his hands, trembling when a gust of wind blows snow across his bare face. “I followed orders, cyare…” 

   You set a ghostly hand on his cheek once more, thumb caressing his cheekbone. “To be alone for such a long time is a heavy burden to bear. A consequence far greater than others. It's poison to the mind, my love, and you have been its victim for far too long." 

   “Everyone i-is gone a-anyway,” he murmurs, attempting to place his hand atop yours only to feel nothing. “I drove them a-all away.” 

   “And now you are alone.” 

   Crosshair grits his teeth but nods. 

   “Do you regret not fleeing with Cody?” 

   Again, he nods, shutting his eyes with a heavy exhale. You wait for him to speak and he finds the strength in his voice, low and raspy with grief.

“I-I’m so t-tired of this…” 

   “Of what, my love?” 

   “This,” he hisses, gesturing to his armor. “Of being here. I-I’m just s-so tired and c-cold… There is n-nothing left for me, c-cyare…” 

   “Do you want to die like this, Crosshair?” You ask him, cocking your head. He glances up, blank eyes latched onto yours with absolutely nothing in them. He seems to be a husk. “Besides a dying man in this blizzard? A victim of your anger and misguidance? You are wrought with regret, lost boy. A soul that dies with regret is a soul that has never truly lived. Has your life been so meaningless to you?” 

   You reach, placing your hand atop his when they settle in his lap. “You existed before this time, Crosshair, during which you had your brothers and me. You had a purpose and your spirit was strong within your family, no matter how flawed it may have been… Has it all been for nothing? Have you fought for nothing?”

   He thinks of Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, even Echo and Omega. He thinks of the Jedis he worked with; the Jedi he tried killing - and the one he did kill. All of the battles and close deaths. All of the people saved and soldiers lost. Mayday. Cody. The decommissioned. The forcefully-retired. 

   Were they all suffering for nothing? 

   Was it really his purpose to be used like a blade until dulled? Discarded aside and replaced with another?

   He thinks of Omega’s expression when she placed her hand on his shoulder, warning him about the chip influencing his actions. She tried to stop him from falling down this path and now…

   Now the guilt burns him enough to feel warm in the icy storm. 

   His gaze is that of a broken man, kindling his fire with nothing but memories. Pained eyes flutter shut when you lean over, placing your lips against his cheek, then his temple.

   “I d-don’t want to die,” he admits in a quiet rasp as he meets your solemn stare. “Not like this.” 

   He remembers the days when he imagined dying alongside his brothers. The end of the war was a distant dream that felt so far away, replaced by an expectation that one day, he would meet his final stand alongside those he grew up with. 

   Crosshair never dreamt of dying like this. He never thought that his end would be anything like this — beside a brother he’d known for a day, and buried by a blizzard of ice. 

   He already died once atop the water. Kamino, a planet of roaring blue waves and gray skies. He died when they strengthened the chip in his head. He died when he fired at his brothers and shot one of them. He died when he tried to bring them to the same fate as his own. 

   Now, realization strikes Crosshair as he faces another death among the ice; among the raging frozen waters that came down from the same gray skies of home. 

   The death of his body…

   …or the death of him: CT-9904. The number, full of regret. The victim of the anger and hatred that bled from within. The product of the seed sown in his naivety. His ignorance. 

   His fear of change. 

   Again, you lower your head and hold his gaze, your voice soft as you repeat yourself. 

   “Do you want to die like this, Crosshair?”

   Like this. 

   Not in the snow. Not beside Mayday. Not among the ice and gray skies. 

   Do you want to die without ever truly living? 

   He shakes his head with a bit more determination than before. You smile, nodding. 

   “Your story does not end here among the ice, my love,” you tell him softly, causing him to readjust his grip around Mayday’s waist. "It is here that it begins."

He glances around him, eyes trekking through the blizzard before he wills himself to stand, bringing Mayday up with him. Crosshair’s body trembles, legs quivering under the weight of two men, but he plants his feet atop the snow and looks at you with hopeful eyes. 

   “You will find what you seek if you search for it…” Your voice is beginning to fade and Crosshair begins to mourn it with the grief that was once smothered by the chip. “Redemption is not earned through death, my love. It is fought for, bled for, and it eagerly awaits you among her brothers. There is more to your story, Crosshair. Fight to live through it.” 

   He tightens his arm around Mayday’s side, adjusting the arm over his shoulders. When he looks up, you are hardly anything more than an impression. Nothing but your essence to remind him of the person you used to be before he lost you. 

   “W-Will I s-see you again?” He questions, his tone both hopeful yet cautious. 

   To his relief, you smile and nod. 

   “One day,” you say simply. “But know that I will be with you until then. You are not alone, Crosshair… and you never have been.” 

   To this, Crosshair turns, and with a step forward, he wills himself to continue. He does not want to see you fade for he already did once. He does not wish to say goodbye because, in the end, he knows that it would be pointless. 

   Crosshair says goodbye to something else instead. He leaves it behind, buried underneath the snow and frozen among the ice. He doesn’t mourn it, nor does he feel its loss. It sits among the white like a stain of black, sitting right alongside his lost helmet and his hopelessness. His helplessness. It is a fire of fury and anguish, born on the water and left to die among the snow.

   A new fire burns in its place. A drive to fight for something once lost, something familiar. Kindled by the promise of life, a promise of redemption, the new fire roars as it searches. It crackles and sends embers in the air at the thought of his brothers. It grows with the notion that if he tried hard enough to live, he would see his family again. 

   'There is more to your story, Crosshair. Fight to live through it.'

   CT-9904’s fight for the Empire was lost in the blizzard. 

   In its place, Crosshair began something new.

   He began his fight to go home. 

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#crosshair x reader #crosshair #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair angst #tw death #the bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair tbb #angst #Spotify #tbb spoilers #bad batch spoilers #tbb s2e12

[rendomski]

Brotherhood

One thing about clones X especially gives me creeps. It is the distinctive, slightly derisive intonation with which they address other clones as “brother” (Rex in season 2 and Crosshair in season 3).

We all understand that reconditioning is anything but gentle coaxing. However, physical trials, torture, medical experiments, death are nothing new to clones (unfortunately). But even in the most desperate situations, they had their brotherhood, the ties that bind them all together, the most sacred thing to each of them and the basis of their culture. The brotherhood drives Rex and Echo’s hopeless fight, which even the Bad Batch comes to understand at some point.

And Hemlock, through his reconditioning, rips these ties to shreds, creating essentially the “meat droids”, as many in the galaxy tend to see clones. Somehow, it feels even worse that what has been done to Echo—Echo still kept his personality in the end. Worse than chips, the chip effect wasn't permanent, and in the Empire, clones still had their squadmates by their side. The Operatives are clones with an obviously twisted and corrupted sense of brotherhood. They are real solitary clones.

It makes me genuinely sick and also really, really mad at Hemlock 😡.

Screenshot by @reader6898

P. S. Cannot resist adding that similar severing of horizontal social ties is a common trait of various cults and totalitarian regimes.

P. P. S. Yes, and “solitary clone” made its way into this text not by accident. I'm pretty sure Crosshair would make a perfect material for an Operative at some point. And he downplays his charming personality, stating that his defective nature prevented him. My theory is that his short but intense acquaintance with Mayday helped him reboot his feeling of brotherhood, and he seized it with all his severe and unyielding temperament.

#clone assassin #tbb clone x #tbb hemlock #the bad batch #clone cx2 #tbb crosshair #tbb meta #the bad batch season 3 #the bad bad spoilers

[veny-many]

I love imagining 104th battalion as a lost one's battalion.

Original 104th members has vanished horribly in sudden except four survivals.

Which means they should have built second one by recruiting many clones.

Most of them are shinies, who are still new to Kel Dor general and feral original Wolfpack, and reality of war.

And some of others are from other battalion due to many reasons. Someones are just got transferred because to fill the place. Some of them might lost his battalion before, like original 104th, and never had a chance to rebuild his own. Someones are got thrown by his own battalion, due to his will or not.

Because of this, second 104th's rebuilding had many problems and arguments. Like new shinies scared of alien General. Some rude mans gossiping that commander and General were faulty of their great loss. Someones doesn't understand why original Wolfpack members are so shaken by their loss, because clones were meant to be expendable. And confused over Kel Dor who is caring every troopers with his honest and kind attitude.

Wolfpack also had problems with their new brothers. Because these new mans don't trust them yet. They are afraid of them. And then they realized why.

Shinies are afraid and confused over brutality and loss of war. Some didn't trust netborn because they were abused. Some are devastated by lost of their families. Some just found this war is meaningless.

So Wolfpack uses their General's method: Just wait patiently. To get this man's trust. And no meaningless judgment or promises, and just show in action that they do care for them. That they will protect them.

It was Plo's method to gather trusts and respects from original 104th. And it worked. Before they lost almost everything. In honest mind, Plo thought he might lost his man's trust when they lost so much under his command. But they still followed him, and trusted him. Because they saw how hard he tried to save his troopers, fighting in harassing space void just to save three clones in hopeless situation. How he tried to encourage clones in despair, keeping them from thinking about cruel space, leading them to what they can still do. How he still tried to hope to save more, asking Skywalker if there was any other survivors, and grieved with little soka for fallen troopers.

Their bond was beyond loss and grief. And it was not marauding like rage and anger, was not suffocating like despair and sadness. There was hope. So they could fight for light in this world even if it's hard to find or fragile, and fight for their lives not just for own selfishness but for belief that they can follow the greater good and make changes for better world.

And if it takes more to form this bond with new 104th, it will be totally worth it.

Soon after, the new 104th members started to believe their officers. They knew they would fight to death by each others side to protect brothers and innocents. They accepted that they do care each other not just for battle strategy, but for living being not just meat droids that can be easily replaced. They could mourn the fallens, so they never forget, and they could live eternal in their heart and memories. They comforted each other to ease the pain, played with each other for joy, and rested with each other for relaxing. They became brothers. Tied to each other's blood and tear.

(Boost joked about 'brothers by blood' thing when they were too badly injured and needed blood donations, that shortly filled with hundreds volunteers from their battalion camp site. And Sinker added jokingly that in that case General can't be their brother because he can't share any blood with them, and met with aggressive objection from Comet came with full body slam. Wolffe scolded them with annoyed face, and Plo just laughed calmly until angry medic marched to them.)

And finally one day, Wolffe knew that his battalion is whole, again. They march together, laugh and grieve together. It was time for them to choose new color to wear.

Wolffe still didn't forget his last battalion. He grieved to remember them. To make them eternal in his memory. In his grief, his mourning.

But he knew he still has to get up from loss. The loss that burned down his home and family. Left nothing but a ash for mourning.

And Wolffe will rise with ash, with his brothers marched away.

He chooses gray to mourn his fallen.

The new battalion gladly accepts their commander's choice. Because now they understood their oldest brother's history and will. And they will march with his will, to mourn and remember their own fallens too.

104th has completed once again.

#star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe #104th battalion #plo koon #blessed are those who mourn #my writing #my whump #my headcanon

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

Thought I Lost You There

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50026468

by marionmorse

In the aftermath of the Gravel Wars, the RED team finds themselves overwhelmed. Bombarded by constant robot attacks and down - really down - a few men, all seems hopeless until they are discovered by long-lost enemies. Maybe together, they can find a way to survive. Maybe Dell can breathe again.

Words: 4754, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: M/M

Characters: BLU Team (Team Fortress 2), RED Team (Team Fortress 2), Robot Ensemble (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Engineer/Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: Character Death, Kinda?, Clones, Respawn Mechanics (Team Fortress 2), Grief/Mourning, Loss, Drunken Shenanigans, Falling In Love, Robots, Porn With Plot, Flashbacks, Survival

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50026468

#TF2 Engineer #TF2 Soldier #EngineerSoldier #EngieSolly #Helmet Party

[marksarmel]

What I've Been Consuming 04/31/23

Bitten by the Covid bug was I! It felled me, but I struggled mightily to consume and now I return, fatigued, but still bug-eyed and bug-eared. Read on my fellow insatiable media gluttons.

TV:

The Bad Batch - Episode 12 - “The Outpost”. While I’ve been loving Season 2 of the Bad Batch I wanted to review this episode singularly because it was full of so many good things. This episode focuses on Crosshair and the dark dark side of the Empire. And there is nary a Sith Lord in sight. And yes, I meant to use two darks in a row. This episode continues Crosshair’s arc in which he comes to understand the cruelty of the Empire and how their war machine shows no mercy, even to its own soldiers

Our favorite brooding clone, Crosshair, is being sent to help secure an outpost on Barton-4 that has been the victim of numerous raids. Before we get to the meat of the episode Crosshair witnesses a group of clones being forced into retirement. Another bit of evidence pointing to the Empire’s disdain of the clones. Crosshair observes this with little emotion, but we know it’s breaking down his already shaky belief in the Empire. Also, Lieutenant Nolan openly despises clones. Also, also, this guy is a total pain in the ass.

At the outpost Crosshair meets a broken down skeleton crew of clones who have been tasked with guarding unknown cargo at the outpost. Their leader, Mayday, is an aged veteran clone, with little respect for Nolan’s upturned nose. Mayday and Crosshair set out for a tour of the depot as Mayday explains that their equipment and infrastructure is long past its expiration date. And that his requests for updated equipment have been ignored. It’s not long before the outpost is attacked and after a brief skirmish that ends with a few dead clones (and Crosshair picking off a raider), Lieutenant, the Prick, Nolan sends Crosshair and Mayday out to recover the stolen cargo.

Things soon go sideways and our new duo find themselves sinking deeper and deeper into a hopeless situation. After another brief battle they discover the cargo that the clones have been guarding (and dying for) is newer updated equipment for new non-clone soldiers. The very same equipment that Mayday has been requesting be sent to them. Crosshair gets to add another entry into his pros and cons list for the Empire.

Before they can secure the cargo an avalanche nearly kills both men, but Crosshair manages to drag Mayday back to base. Lieutenant, the Ice Queen, Nolan, is none too happy to see the two broken soldiers arrive sans cargo and even refuses medical aid for the nearly dead Mayday, calling them both expendable. As Nolan rambles on pitilessly, Mayday dies. Nolan orders the nearly dead Crosshair back to work. Unfortunately for Nolan, (but goody for us!) he’s unaware that he’s talking to a clone that now gives absolutely zero fucks. Crosshair gives Nolan an early retirement courtesy of a blaster shot straight to the chest. He is quickly arrested by the new clones. There’s a sort of twisted parallel here to when Crosshair, upon orders, killed the defenseless Governess, and rebel to the Empire, Ames in “the Solitary Clone” episode. Here in this episode, Crosshair finds himself killing someone on the Empire’s side. Makes you think perhaps a better name for Crosshair would have been Crossfire, because he’s definitely trapped on both sides.

Crosshair awakens to find himself not in jail but in a somewhat cushier environment where he is greeted by Dr. Emerie Karr, the clone scientist that we met a few episodes back, who was part of the team holding the Kaminoan Lama Su captive. What she has in mind for Crosshair isn’t quite revealed, but whatever it is Crosshair is a clone forever changed.

This episode also had really spectacular animation. The snowy world of Barton-4 made me snuggle deeper into my blanket and Crosshair’s face ran the gamut of emotions throughout the story. Damn what a fine piece of work.

The Mandalorian - This season has been good to Mando so far. In a show packed with so many enjoyable characters, like Bo-Katan and Grogu and Greef Karga and the always welcome Amy Sedalia as Peli Motto and the Mandolorian convert it would be crazy to introduce a new storyline, but that’s just what happens in episode 3’s the “The Convert”. After a blistering opening where our trio of Bo Katan, Grogu and Mando barely escape Mandalore we are dropped into a brand new storyline that is honestly quite jarring. While it’s not technically a brand new storyline and I’m sure it will connect to the larger Mandalore story I was a bit bummed to have this episode spend so much time with a character that I had little interest in. Episode 5 “the Pirate” gets us right back to old times and gives us some great cameos as well. I’m still super high on this show so I can forgive a little excursion from our main storylines.

Chris Rock comedy special - Chris has always been a pretty steadfast comedian in my opinion so I was eager to see how he rebounded after “The Slap”. I wouldn't call this great, barely good. It lacks the sharp observations on racism, relationships and life that Rock normally hits. The setups seem to be there, but the punchines just don’t land that hard.

In the end he does go after Will and Jada and this is where things start to pick up. He’s open and honest and actually quite angry. He was bullied by a much larger, much more powerful man, in front of millions of people, why wouldn’t he be? Did he go too hard on Jada? Maybe, but Chris’ talent is words and that’s what he has to use to make his way in the world. It’s unfortunate that Will Smith, a man who is quite the wordsmith himself, chose to attack Chris physically, but love makes us all do strange things. Nobody wins here. Everybody loses.

The Last of Us - You can save the world, if only you give up your first born. While not quite Joel’s first born Ellie is enough of a stand in that Joel is completely unable to fathom giving her up. The final episode of this show continues wrecking our hearts and forcing us to watch these two become more and more emotionally anchored to each other. All this only to see them be hurt in ways much deeper than any physical wound. Joel goes full on John Wick Terminator Boss Level mode to save Ellie one last time, but it may not be what she would have wanted. This final decision is one that has already been debated since the first game came out, but the show's creators Neil Druckmann and Craig Mazin, Pedro Pascal and Bella Ramsay fill it with such emotional weight that it would be foolish to think that either side is fully right or fully wrong. Ultimately the trip this show took us on is one of super heavy emotional weight and I’m actually glad that I’ve got some time to recover before Season 2.

Superman and Lois - This show is good! During a battle wherein I finally was bitten by the Covid bug I had nothing to do but be miserable and watch tv. Superman and Lois popped up in my searches and my hazy mediciney fogged mind decided to pass the time with some mindless tv. Only this was anything but. First off this series looks fantastic. The pilot episode does a great job of quickly summarizing Superman’s early days and then quickly adds in something different. This series gives Superman kids, a set of twins, one of which may have powers and the other which is dealing with a very modern issue, social anxiety disorder. All of this sets up a new framework for Superman that feels both nostalgic and new. As I said earlier this show looks great and the opening episode gives us some truly iconic shots. Though it does lean a bit too heavily into the modern style of some shows by looking way too dark and desaturated, it doesn't take away from all the good things about this show.

MOVIES:

Shazam 2- Look, this movie was about what I expected it to be; light loose, fun and breezy. There are issues big and small with this movie and I’m sure some fans of the first one went in with high hopes that were soon dashed, but that is the state with DC right now. Here’s to hoping Mr. Gunn can work his magic going forward.

Overall my biggest issue is that the movie was either miscast or poorly written and most likely both.

MUSIC

Niia - I - Another artist I recently stumbled across on Spotify that turned out to be quite the gem. The soft and simple album opener is the perfect aural pallet cleanser for the rest of the album of groovy sultry jams.

Kimbra - “Save Me” -  Do you remember a little ditty “Somebody That I Used To Know” from a long time ago? Well Kimbra is the other singer on that song. I really didn’t keep with either artist after that huge hit, but I found this while rooting around. While the whole album is pretty listenable this moody hypnotic track grabbed me by my earstems and wouldn’t let go.

#tv review #the last of us #the mandolorian s3 #Chris Rock #The Bad Batch #shazam 2 #kimbra #niia #movie review #music review #what I'm consuming

[rsrandomthings]

I’ve come to realize that I’m a very romantic person. The things i like, the characters i make, they’re all romantic. I write poetry. I write short stories almost formatted like poetry. I like romantic songs.

Let’s start with some of my characters.

Keirth and Asinir. They’re a dichotomy, light and dark, so similar and yet such opposites. That’s romantic. They’re gods, time travellers, able to rewind and replay time, making changes. They’re shapeshifters, powerful. But that’s not what’s romantic. The two are both immortal. They’re trapped together. Even if they split apart, sometime in their infinite lives they’ll meet once again. They’re in love. They’ve set up a system, where older non-important memories eventually get deleted, so the two never get bored. They always remember how they met, though. And the really good times. But i just think it’s romantic. Two beings of near-infinite power, in an intricate circling dance. Every few quadrillion years, the cycle starts anew, and they start revisiting the timelines and stories they’ve forgotten. They’re in love, forever, even when their day of meeting stands oh so far in the past. And it keeps getting further.

Let’s take the clockwork’s friend. He’s trans. And not the original. The original clockwork’s friend was human, and never satisfied with his body. Unable to properly medically transition due to living in isolation, he builds an ideal body for himself, and a brain scanner. Perhaps out of desperation, or out of hopeless optimism, he believes (or perhaps more accurately, wishes) that when he loads up the brain scan, his soul and consciousness will transfer over too, and his original body will die. It doesn’t. He’s stuck with a clone in the body he so wishes he could have. He’s jealous, but like a kind older brother, never shows it. The current clockwork’s friend, the robotic “clone”, knows the original is jealous. And he’s guilty. Even past the original’s death, the clockwork’s friend never takes the original’s name. Perhaps out of guilt, perhaps out of respect. Even after centuries pass, he will never forget the original’s name, and he will never take it.

Last two characters, this time more of an aesthetic romance. The lone traveller is a, well, lone traveller. Exploring hillsides, with storms rolling in and nothing but a cloak, scarf, map, and compass. They’re happy with it. They’re pale, like old faded photographs. They’re a mythical being of sorts, no one sees them for more than a week, and no more than twice a year. It’s beautiful, but oh so lonely. The other, garden deer. He’s a watchman in the night, silver-embroidered cloak flowing behind. He stares at the stars. There’s no one around. It’s peaceful, but yet again, oh so lonely. Hmm… i feel like that’s a theme in my romance. A light loneliness. Like the romance of a lone lighthouse keeper, doomed to maintain the light in even the stormiest of weather.

Now for media. Night in the Woods. It’s just a small town life, but oh so romantic. It’s normal. There’s none of the worries i worry about. There’s no future, nothing to look ahead to. Just the next day. One of the most prominent songs is about just wanting to die somewhere else. Anywhere else. Just not in the dying coal town, with no opportunities. No chance for growth. Everyone knows everyone, and in a way, that’s lonely. There’s effectively nothing else but the little town. And the people inside, and the history of the town, soon to be lost to time.

A song that i like. “Expert in a dying field”. About a dying friendship, being the expert about all the inside jokes, their mannerisms. And it’s fading. They’re growing further apart, slowly, slowly. Lonely.

A short story I’m writing. About an automated world, that suddenly loses all its technology. The inhabitants work together, learning once again what their ancestors knew, but forgot. It’s not lonely, but the way it’s written, is. It alienates the reader. It alienates the narrator. You are not a part of this. This world is doing just fine on it’s own. You’re just watching. You’re watching them make friends, support each other. No matter what you do, you can’t do the same. You’re stuck watching the party from the corner, and you know every single person, you just can’t talk to them. They can’t see you. And they’re having fun.

It’s lonely. It’s romantic. There’s a romance in loneliness.

And i think…

I think that’s alright.

#rs rambling #long #keirth browben #Asinir #clockwork’s friend #lone traveler #garden deer #night in the woods #TDoEMS

[mwolf0epsilon]

Oh Captain my Captain...

Rex, currently trying to find Carno on Kix's behalf since apparently the other Captain hasn't been to the medbay since arriving and the medic hasn't had the chance to check him for whatever damage Krell may have physically caused him: After this, Kix owes me a free get out of medical card... Rex, walks into the training room since it's the only place he hasn't checked yet and is startled by what he walks in on: What the hell?! Carno, who is currently looming over and strangling the life out of his own medic and not happy to see Rex: Beat it, Boy Scout. Rex, running forward to push Carno off Bon: What is wrong with you?! Bon, gasping for air and crawling away from the two captains nearly stumbling over a medkit that had been tossed aside prior to Rex's arrival: A-ah... Carno, the glare behind his helmeted face directed at Rex: This doesn't concern you. Rex, furious: Anyone getting injured on my watch IS my concern! Carno, scoffing: How I discipline my men IS NOT your concern. Rex, staring at the other captain in disbelief: Discipline?! Strangling someone to death is not discipline! Carno, crossing his arms: Tsh, hippie... Rex, crossing his own arms to keep himself frowm throwing a punch: Having a sense of empathy and caring for someone else's life is not being a hippie! It's being a good CO! Carno, laughing: Good CO? You're barely even a good soldier. You disregard protocol with ease. You have no sense of formality. The mere sight of your bare face is disrespectful to everyone on board. Rex, jabbing Carno on the chest plate: If being a good soldier means being a horrible person, then I'd rather much be a terrible soldier! Protocol and formality be damned! Carno, disgusted: You're a sentimental boot-licking fool that will suffer greatly when the weight of the world finally crushes you... -shoulders past Rex and leaves- Rex: ... Bon, massaging his aching neck and looking incredibly upset: ... I... I only wanted to help... Rex: I'm sure you did... I just don't think he wants help.

#star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #clone ocs #105st battalion #krell's battalion #captain carno #clone medic bon #tw strangulation #carno isn't the kindest to his men and definitely needs some serious help to fix that #rex is starting to think carno is hopeless tho since he hasn't even made an effort to get along with anyone

[vesselivbar]

#IFTTT #The Vessel IV Bar

[warsamongthestars]

WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT THE UMBARA ARC

Things I have come across, considered, or theorized, regarding Clone Wars the Umbara Arc.

# REGARDING THE 501ST / TORRENT COMPANY - FIVES Dude is the sanest man here. Yes, that includes Rex. Fives is literally the Everyman, the Good Man that goes to war. Everything about Fives is how a Sane but Confident and Good Person is suppose to do and how they would reasonably act, given all they’ve experienced.

And Gods is he brutal. He swipe-kicked an Umbaran, and blasted the fucker point blank.

He talked back to Krell on several occasions, first one resulted in a Lightsaber within Shaving Distance. He went behind the backs of the chain of command, but still respected Rex enough to tell him what he was going to do (and Rex even covered him).

And even in the face of Execution, he’s the Optimist to Jesse’s Cynic. In a final ditch effort, he pulls a speech for all his brothers. He sees people as what they are: Persons, each and everyone. And from the Start, knew Krell was a fuckin Bastard.

Fives is Smart too. Dude learned how to Fly an Umbaran ship, and Umbaran Tech is as alien as it gets (s’like trying to translate a Star Trek consol).

- JESSE Seems to be a Republic Fan considering he literally tattooed the Republic’s Symbol on his face and painted it on his helmet.

Dude is Snarky and Sassy. A dangerous combination. He makes snarky quips, is cynical in the face of execution, and even does the sassy hand on hip thing.

He’s also, apparently, either part Technician or part Hacker. Capable of cracking Umbaran Codes, if Fives’ good natured shoulder punch was any indication.

- KIX The Medic, and gods it could not have been easy to deal with all those causalities.

- HARDCASE Love Hardcase. Dude’s got explosions and fighting on the mind, his answer to a problem with guns is to bring a bigger gun. He’s got a one track mind, and Fives had to reign him in several times.

He’s definitely friendly enough, and takes things as they come, which suggested he had simple expectations and simple desires.

... Gonna miss him.

- TUP For all the “Tup was Innocent” I kept hearing, Tup is pretty much an Anxious New Guy. While being anxious about Krell is the reasonable reaction, if not the understatement, Tup brings anxiety to a new level.

He holds on to dear life while in transport with both hands, he’s fairly hopeless in most situations (brings to mind “We’re DOOMED!”  by C3-P0) [And let’s face it, Tup has good reason to be hopeless about stuff].

Fairly cynical, but in the way that new folk are cynical to the possibility of new outcomes. Kamino must’ve been hard on the kid.

- DOGMA ... I have reason to believe that Dogma’s chip was partially activated.

What starts to be just a young soldier following things to the letter, dives into a route of insanity that cannot be explained away. At least, by my perceptions. (Believe what you want, this is my article of stupidity, go get your own stupid if you don’t like it)

Sure, supporting Krell’s plans in the beginning just indicated that he was being idiotically naive. Sure, a fear of getting into trouble can drive someone to jump the chain if they feel something has gone wrong. He even got Tup in on it. This suggests youth, anxiety, and the unfortunate idea that he would have to learn things the hard way-- we’ve been there.

But Dogma was There when the Clone Transmission came in regarding Umbarans taking Clone Equipment. He was There when the 501st and the 212th attacked each other.

And yet, Dogma takes up a blaster against his own brothers, AFTER THAT ATTACK (FOR WHICH HE WAS PRESENT FOR THE BRIEFING OF AND FOR THE EVEN ITSELF), and screams that they’re all Traitors?

Its not like Dogma isn’t reasonably Smart. After a certain point, this stops being Anxiety and Desperation talking, and starts being something else.

It puts all other actions under a new light. Such as his rather robotic actions when he was first introduced-- they were on a battlefield, why the hell is he showing off a crisp and serious about-face / heel-turn like he’s in a fuckin Uniform Inspection?

And how he shoots Krell. Yes, it does look like a snapping point and you wouldn’t be wrong to take it as such. But by that point, he was using “Traitor” an awful lot.

... It makes sense to theorize that Dogma and Tup were apart of the same Batch. It seems that their entire Batch must’ve had Bad Chips. Wonder if that tumor killed the others...

- REX Man has the patience of a saint, but you’d have to when working with Skywalker.

I can’t blame him for the orders he received from Krell. Rex was in the worst position during the worst circumstances. If he defied orders too much, he ran the risk of court-martial or worse, and then his company and legion would be left to the mercies of Krell. If he tried to lessen the blow, he still would get chewed out by his company for following Krell.

He tried to justify it. Who wouldn’t when you’re between a rock and a hard place? When you know what’s around you is Wrong, but if you don’t do what you’re told, it could get worse. Of course you’d justify it. You’d do to stay sane.

He was the Honorable Man in the worst position.

- PROTOTYPE The thing about Season 7, is that it takes place years after Clone Wars was cancelled. Plenty of time to go back and sift through the old seasons, in order to build new ones when The Clone Wars was brought back to air.

And plenty of stuff in the Umbara Arc shows me that, y’know, Torrent Company was proto-Bad Batch.

You have Hardcase, who was basically Wrecker.

Jesse, who screamed Crosshair with that sass and snark. No wonder they didn’t like each other, they were quite a bit alike.

Rex, playing Hunter in both exhaustion, diplomacy, and nobody every being happy with anything he did.

Not sure who played the Tech here. Seems to have been divided between Fives, Jesse and Hardcase. Possibly Kix.

# KRELL

Let me just get my feelings out of the way.

We fuckin hate this asshole. Ever second he was alive on screen, I desperately wanted him dead. Dealing with him second hand is one of the worst experiences I’ve had with Clone Wars-- and I’m pretty sure he was written that way on purpose. I despise him. Wish he got shot sooner. The death tolls, the disregard, we saw how many new ways a Clone could die and ITS THIS BASTARD’S FAULT.

*ahem*

But that’s not why I’m here.

Krell’s speeches tells us that what he did, he’s be doing for a long time. Umbara took place in the Second Year of the Clone Wars... And this suggests that he may have Started a bastard.

He certainly was Dark Side by the time of Umbara.

Hints of his later speech also suggest that he had, in some way, contact with Darth Tyrannus, or possibly even Sidious himself acting as Tyrannus. Which puts things into a new light.

... I think that Umbara was meant to kill off Torrent Company.

Here’s my logic.

After Umbara, just about everything that goes wrong for Anakain, does. Kenobi betrays Anakin’s trust. Ahsoka is lost repeatedly, and thanks to the trial arc, gets gone for “seemingly” good. Everything was directed through the Jedi Council, and often, via the Chancellor’s hidden hand, was in some way isolating to Anakin Skywalker.

And it starts Here.

Who the fuck requests a General about to head into battle? What could be so fuckin important as to interrupt TAKING A SEPARATIST’S WORLD!?

Nothing. You don’t do that. There was nothing more important at that moment. You can’t claim incidental, because Anakin was never pulled off that way before or since. Take Anaxes as your Example-- his wife was Pregnant, and he was still fighting.

I think, via Krell, someone who is KNOWN to have massive clone casualties, who had possibly started off this civil war having already Fallen, that the Chancellor had started to find ways to Isolate Anakin. To ensure that Anakin’s trust would only be the Chancellor’s.

And he started by trying to ensure the deaths of Captain Rex and the rest of Torrent Company.

... Of course, unlike every other time. It takes a Chip to bring Clones to heel.

Because on their own? Clones don’t fall for the Machinations of Evil Emperors. They don’t get their strings pulled, like Jedi do. It takes a tumor-slave-chip to bring these great men to heel.

So Captain Rex survives. And becomes the worst thorn Palpatine has ever felt, for it.

#star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #arc trooper fives #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper tup #clone trooper dogma #clone trooper hardcase #pong krell #umbara arc #theories and analysis

[sameheart-sameblood]

Live While We’re Alive

(gif by @rex-is-best)

pairing: commander wolffe x f!reader

summary: you thought being a newly recruited civilian doctor to the GAR was hard enough until you developed a hopeless crush on Commander Wolffe

words: 2.8 k

warnings: mature, some suggestive talk, mutual pining, medical exams, co-workers to lovers, a doctor having inappropriate thoughts about their patient 

a/n: I started writing this awhile ago and then lost all creative motivation but I've been in a Wolffe mood the past few days and sad we didn't get to see him in The Bad Batch so here we are. I'd like to apologize to my doctor dad and all medical professionals everywhere lol. Also, I had intended for this to end in smut but then got lost in feelings so there mayyyy be a chapter 2. We'll see ;)

read on ao3!

You want to fuck him. It’s been decided. This realization couldn’t have come at a worse time, though. You’re surrounded by Jedi and Clone Officers in a very important meeting detailing your next mission. But you only have eyes for one of the men and he’s currently standing at the head of the room giving a briefing to the holo of Master Yoda. It’s a testament to Commander Wolffe’s presence that you barely notice the little green Jedi Master he’s conversing with. Well, his presence and his extreme handsomeness.

When you’d first met him, you’d been truly intimidated. The other women you worked with nodded in understanding, whispering they had been thrown off by his cybernetic eye and prominent scar. But that wasn’t it. You’d noticed those things, but that wasn’t what made you uneasy.

It was the fact that he took one look at you and seemed to see right into your soul. You couldn’t explain it but you felt like with just a glance, he could tell your deepest insecurities. And stars, did you have a lot of those.

You had worked your way up through the medical field and had started your residency at the biggest hospital in Coruscant. After your training ended, you had secured a permanent job there. It had been difficult, to say the least. Though you knew you were qualified, even more so than most of your male co-workers, you still doubted yourself often.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had come to visit you one nondescript Thursday afternoon, telling you of the need for doctors in the GAR. He said you came most highly recommended when he was searching for recruits but still, you thought a mistake had been made and that someone soon would realize and send you back to your normal life. It was a recurring nightmare you’d developed in the past few weeks that shook you from your sleep.

You had agreed to join the GAR, sympathetic to the cause and wanting to do your part. The next few weeks had consisted of you getting your bearings and meeting the rest of the staff at the base . Kix, the clone medic in charge, had helped you learn the ropes and had introduced you to all his brothers. At first, you had been overwhelmed by the sea of identical faces. As the weeks had gone on, you’d learned everyone’s names and they’d made you feel welcome, like one of their own.

The Commander and you had crossed paths several times. He was polite but distant. Not like you blamed him. He had more important things to do than exchange drawn out pleasantries. With each run-in, though, he seemed to be making more of an effort to be personable. Unfortunately, each conversation left you looking more and more like an idiot. Or a di’kut. The boys had been teaching you some Mando’a.

You were a medical professional, a well-respected doctor and yet Wolffe made you feel unsure of yourself. It had been so long since you’d had a crush that you didn’t realize this was what the beginning of one felt like.

*******

As you sit around the war room table, you feel even more like a school girl. Instead of paying attention to whatever Master Yoda is saying, you’re transfixed by Wolffe’s face. The hazy blue light from the holo reflects off his features, making him look ethereal. His scar looks even more prominent and you blush, remembering how often you’ve wondered what it would feel like to let your fingers trace it.   And his lips. They’re moving, responding to whatever the Jedi has said. They’re mesmerizing and now you’re thinking of what it would be like to kiss him. Or even better yet, to have those lips pressed against the plushier parts of your body.

You continue to stare until you realize his face has turned to you. It probably only takes you a second to come back to reality but it feels like an eternity. Somehow you’re able to respond to the question.

“Yes, Commander. All medical personnel are prepared for an 0800 liftoff. Kix will take his team with the 501st and I’ll have my staff along with the 104th. We’ll reconnoiter once we’ve landed on Hisseen.” The rest of the table nods, moving the conversation along. Wolffe stares at you for a moment, a hint of a smirk on his lips. You avert your gaze, finding the table a much safer object of your attention.

The discussion wraps up and Wolffe stands at attention, puffing his chest out, before Master Yoda disappears. Once again, your eyes are drawn to him. You’re not sure how but he makes something so mundane look indescribably attractive. Wolffe’s head turns in your direction but you’ve already bolted from your seat, hoping to cool down in the hallway.

Kix pushes through the crowd to get to you. “Hey, Doc. How’d the meeting go?” You shrug. “Nothing new to report. Just making sure we’re all set for our campaign.” He’s shifting back and forth, a sort of glazed look in his eyes. You realize he’s not paying particularly close attention. It’s the look of someone asking you something just so they can request a favor in return.

“Hmm oh yeah, that’s nice. Say, Doc, do you think you could cover for me for a few hours? I have some urgent business to attend to.”

“Since when is playing Sabacc with Fives and the boys urgent?”

“Since I remembered how terrible they are at it. I can make a real killing playing against them.”

You laugh. It’s true. You’ve come to love those men but a lot of them are really horrible at the game. You’ll need to give them a remedial course if you have any downtime on Hisseen. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” He rewards you with a huge grin. “Nothing hard! A few higher ups coming in for their physicals. Just the usual. Make sure they’re in tip top shape to get shot at by some tinnies.”

He gives you the list. It’s only a handful of men but the last one on it makes your blood go cold. “Commander Wolffe needs a physical?” Kix is oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Oh yeah, but he knows the drill. Honestly everyone can do it themselves at this point. We’re basically there to oversee it as a formality.”

You swallow down your apprehension and nod. “Sounds easy enough. Go have fun. And take it easy on them, will ya? Let them keep a little of their dignity intact” Kix just grins and shoots you a wave as he runs off.

*******

Your first few appointments go just fine. The officers are professionals and Kix was right, they could do these routine physicals with their eyes closed. You give them all your seal of approval and settle in to do your paperwork before your last, most anticipated patient arrives. The forms in front of you hold no interest and you find yourself checking the chrono every few seconds.

It’s not easy but you manage to finish your work. You set it aside and take steadying breath. Five more minutes and he’ll be here. You scold yourself. The Commander has never been anything but professional. You’re the one thinking these very unprofessional thoughts.

And you’re a doctor, for kriff’s sake. Your patients should be able to come to you without worrying you may be fantasizing about what they look like naked. But these are uncharted waters. It’s your first time having to deal with a patient you’re this attracted to. They really should take your medical license away.

Just as you’re thinking of packing it all up and handing in your resignation to the Jedi Council, a knock at the door snaps you to attention. Well, here goes nothing. You scold yourself once again for checking your reflection in the mirror before answering the door.

You had tried to adopt a passive, professional look to your face before greeting Wolffe but it must not have worked. “Everything alright, Doc? I’m not early, am I?” You shake your head.“Not at all. Punctual as always, Commander.” You beckon for him to come in and take a seat. You close the door, then sit across from him at your desk.

Your datapad hums to life and you busy yourself opening the appropriate forms you need to fill out. The weight of his eyes is heavy on you and your cheeks heat up in spite of yourself. You push on through as best you can.

“Well, Commander, how are you feeling today?” There’s that ghost of a smirk again but it vanishes so quickly you're not sure if you imagined it. “I feel like a million credits.” You giggle despite it not even being that funny. You’ve got it bad. “Glad to hear it. This should be quick then.” You gather your equipment and get to work.

First, you take his weight. Then, you listen to his heart. You press the stethoscope to his sternum, thankful you can do this over his blacks. He observes you the whole time. “And what about you? How are you today, Doc?” You risk a glance and meet his eyes. That was a mistake.

“Me? Oh-um just fine. Maybe not like a million credits but a few hundred at least.” You trail off dumbly but he humors you with a chuckle. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard that sound from him before. It’s like music to your ears. “Anything I can do to help? You do look a little flushed. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?” You avert your eyes again.

“No. I’m alright. It’s just, uh, hot in these uniforms. The coarseweave doesn’t breathe.”

“You sure? Maybe I should be the one giving you a check-up.”

You realize he’s toying with you now.

“That won’t be necessary, Commander.”

You move on to check his lungs. “Breathe in for me.” You move the stethoscope to his chest, then move it around a few different spots on his back. “You can call me, Wolffe. If you’d like.” He breathes in every time, not even needing prompting, ever the dutiful soldier, even when he’s teasing you.

“I would like that. Thank you, Wolffe.”

Next, you measure his blood pressure. You’re shocked that it’s so low. He sees the look of surprise on your face. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all. The opposite, in fact. Your pressures are great. I just thought with your lifestyle they might, understandably, be a bit higher.”

“What kind of lifestyle do you think I have?”

You’re backtracking as quickly as you can. “I just meant, your life as a soldier, it must be extremely stressful.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. But you don’t get to be a Commander by not being able to handle the pressure.”

“Of course. But even so, if you’d like some stress relief techniques I can suggest some.” He hums as if really thinking it over. Thankfully there’s only one part of your exam left. Which is good because you’re not sure how much resolve you have remaining.

“Everything looks great. I’ll just do a head and neck exam and then I can send you on your way.”

You need to touch him for this part but you stop yourself, hands hovering but not quite meeting their destination. You feel like once you touch him, really feel his skin under your fingers, there may be no going back.

Wolffe sees your hesitation, then slowly reaches out to take your hands. You watch with wide eyes as he guides them to his neck. He looks up at you innocently enough but you can tell he’s laughing internally. You try to reign in control of the situation.

“Sorry, I just got distracted.” The Commander studies you but this time it’s in earnest. “Are you nervous? This’ll be your first time in an active war zone, right?” You had been anxious but not about that. But now that he mentions it, yeah, you honestly don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Yes, I’m not sure what to expect. I guess you could say I’m a little scared.” Wolffe gently holds your chin, directing you to look back at him. “I won’t lie. It’ll be overwhelming and frightening. Battles can seem never-ending. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You’re staring into each other’s eyes and you don’t want to stop. But then he’s clearing his throat and gently removing his hand from your skin. You realize you’ve been resting your own hands on his shoulders this whole time. “Thank you, Wolffe. I do feel much better knowing you’ll be there.” You offer him a smile, hoping it conveys just how much you appreciate him looking out for you.

You begin your exam, gently kneading where his neck meets his shoulders, checking for any anomalies. Then you move to his throat. The throat you’ve so often been distracted by. It’s featured prominently in your daydreams. You move your hands along it, under his jawline. Having a man this powerful baring one of the most vulnerable parts of his body to you is intoxicating. Focus, di’kut.

Everything feels normal except for some knots you find resting right below the surface of his smooth skin. “Lymph nodes feel good. You’re a little tense, though. But I bet it’s from that bucket you have to wear most of the day.” He hums in thought. “True. But even so. Maybe you could give me some of those ideas for stress management?” He looks up at you with big eyes. There’s mischief in them but something else. Vulnerability?

You gulp audibly. “Of course. There are a few that work particularly well, um, like deep breathing techniques, going on walks, talking with friends, meditation, journaling, physical activity…” You’re rambling, fighting a losing game against your resolve. Wolffe thinks on it. “Physical activity seems like a good place to start.” His hands come up to gently cover yours that are still resting on his neck.

The sensation of his calloused fingers on your skin sends shivers down your body. You close your eyes, feeling the last of your self-control topple over. “Wolffe,” you whine “We shouldn’t…” He immediately drops his hands, worry etched on his face. “I’m so sorry. It’s just- I thought you wanted-.” He cuts himself off, snapping up to his feet and to attention. “Doctor, you should report me to General Plo Koon for immediate disciplinary action.”

Dank Farrik, you’ve just ruined everything.“Wolffe! No, I’m not reporting you to anyone. If anything you should report me for being so unprofessional.” His shoulders relax a bit but he still eyes you as if you’re a live grenade that might explode at any second. “What do you mean?” You sigh in frustration. This isn’t how you wanted to confess your feelings to him.

“I…want you, Wolffe. The second I realized that I should have asked to be re-assigned to a different battalion. Instead I thought I could push those feelings down and continue to do my job. Looks like that was a mistake.” You hang your head, avoiding his piercing gaze. He’s silent for just a moment but it feels like an eternity.

“So, you want me and I want you?” You nod your head, ashamed, as he continues. “Then what’s the problem, Doc?” Your eyes snap to his, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Isn’t it wrong of us?”

Wolffe sits down on the exam table again, genuinely thinking on it. “I don’t see why. We’re both consenting adults. We don’t work directly with each other- I report to General Koon, you report to General Kenobi- so there’s no real conflict of interest. The worst we’ll face is a little ribbing from the boys if they find out.”

You raise your head to look him in the eyes, needing to make sure he’s serious and that this isn’t some twisted joke. What you find staring back at you is hope and promise. He senses your trepidation and gently takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry if I came on strong. But the thing about this life is that there are no guarantees. Tomorrow isn’t promised and so I figured I’d rather go for something, someone, that I want and have my heart broken rather than regretting my inaction.”

Your eyes roam the scars on his face, evidence of just how true his words are. You’re heading into active battle tomorrow. One or both of you could be injured, or worse. You step towards him. He spreads his legs so you have room to get closer. You rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

His hands come up to caress your sides. You take a shaky breath. He questions you softly. “Cyar’ika?” Ah, now that’s one of the new words you definitely remember. His vulnerability makes you ache and the decision to hand your heart over is an easy one. “You’re right, Wolffe. Might as well do some living while we can.”

*******

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #instead of becoming a doctor like my family wanted i decided to just write about being one who's slightly inappropriate instead #tcw fanfic #tcw #allie writes #my writing

[itsagrimm]

Imperial Tech 5

CN: soldier life in a fascist state, getting observed and recorded, violence, drug abuse, getting drugged without explicit consent, memory loss, forbidden relationship, getting carried + lifted up, tech & ONCE doing a lot of selfreflecting

Summary: The scenario plays out with Techs and not Crosshairs inhibitor chip working. Y/N is part of the elite squad working under commander Tech. Y/N gets called ES-01 or ONCE by their team somethimes. Previously, they killed senator Tarr, took the Syndullas into custody and are now on the hunt for Hera. (Basically everything just like in the show except for Tech in charge instead of Crosshair)

Imperial Tech X They Them Reader

Part 4

XXXXXX

Ryloth was starting to become Techs least favourite planet to been on. The planet had a challenging terrain, Admiral Rampart was continuously holding him back, but most importantly the dust forced Tech to clean his glasses several times per rotation.

But even with the dirt gone from the lenses the screens showing surveillance data from all Ryloth gave no clue to Hera Syndullas whereabouts.

Tech leaned back. He just needed to be patient. Hera would turn up sooner or later. Children had a high dependency and emotional connection to their caretakers and were unlikely to leave them behind even it was the most rational decision to ensure their own survival.

A part of his mind kept observing and evaluating the data. Another part wandered off. This morning Y/N had cried. Tech had wanted to keep Y/N close so that he could keep the one person calming him down safe, but he had failed. His miscalculation and lack of information about Y/N inner workings had come with the cost of Y/N breaking down into his arms. The regret of carrying out a killing order was too much for Y/N. His command was the direct cause for their pain. And yet Y/N only had whispered about the Empire and service to it itself as root for their misery. A grand and dangerous claim, still Tech could see some causality between the Empire existing and Y/N’s suffering.

But he still hated himself.

Tech had scrambled the recording in Y/N’s helmet to keep this treasonous confession off the records. And he had sedated Y/N to buy them some time to collect themselves. Extrapolating from the way the former clone force 99 had been treated the Empire would never allow a soldier like Y/N to feel regret or be critical and would punish every kind of perceived treason or weakness. And so, his report noted a minor concussion. As a trained medic and commander no one had questioned his claims. For now, he had at least in some way kept his ONCE safe even it was just picking up the pieces of his previous mistake. Another wave of self-loathing washed over Tech.

But at the same time, he felt pride swelling up his chest. The feeling of him carrying Y/N into the security of the LAAT. Their head resting on his shoulder. Half-closed eyes searching for answers from him and lips whispering Tech.

He grinned.

Oh yes, he could get used to that.

The memory was intoxicating. His overclocked mind stuttered at the thought of Y/N’s body in his arms. Like always Y/N calmed and slowed his thought process like nothing ever before.

Tech breathed in and took another look at the data before him. Still no sign of Hera Syndulla. The comm was silent as well. Surprisingly pleased he took a sip of caf before devoting his main attention to Y/N again.

Tech had arrived at the conclusion that he cared for ES-01. He wanted to know everything about them. A part of his brain spiralled around with a constant loop of thoughts about them and their well-being. And just the thought of Y/N’s physical presence near him gave him a calm he had never known before even with his brothers.

He knew that his attachment to his subordinate was forbidden. And he knew that whatever his feelings and basically needfor Y/N in his life were likely not reciprocated. He was just a clone even with his desirable mutations. And he was their commander. Any kind of romantic interaction - not even including physical interaction - was unlikely, overreaching and a danger for them both.

All he had for himself was a little mental box of lovely little memories and even lovelier fantasies of Y/N that kept him occupied in the refresher. That had to be enough.

Another sip from the caf and glance at the monitors. No Hera Syndulla to be found. Nothing of particular interest to note. He checked the comm chatter for news about the Empire or his brothers but there was nothing as well.

But it was fine to ask if Y/N was fine, right? He was their commander and he had given the order to give them some rest, so he was his duty to require report, right?

Tech thought about his brothers. They would know what to do now. Wrecker would support and reassure him no matter what he did. Echo would keep his opinion to himself until asked or in severe disagreement. Hunter would sit down next to Tech, pat him on the shoulder and tilt his head for 12,4 degrees right before giving advice. And Crosshair would just grumble about Tech overthinking again and then just pointing out the most straight forward action.

Crosshair decision making was the easiest to replicate for Tech now.

So that is what he did.

“ES-01?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The bunk room on Ryloth was dark. Someone must have pulled down the blinds. The other members of the elite squad and commander Tech were gone. Y/N checked their comm. Apparently the team was on the hunt for the little Twi’lek girl, that had escaped. Y/N was expected to rest.

What happened?

Their memory was still foggy. The last thing Y/N remembered was being at the canyon, the overwhelming feeling of regret, of breaking down and of commander Tech.

He had…

Y/N checked their arm. A little puncture was visible there.

Yes, a part of their memory slowly returned.

Tech had sedated Y/N. He had drugged them. He had carried them and-

Y/N pulled back the thin blanket. He had removed their armour. Y/N blushed. The memory of his long fingers with little scars carefully peeling Y/N out of the plastoid was rising from the depth of their mind like a lazy fish breaking surface of a deep dark pond.

The door to the bunk room opened. Y/N looked up expecting to see one of the returning elite squad members. Instead, Captain Howzer, clone commander of all the regular troopers on Ryloth, entered. Y/N rose and saluted. He was not in charge of the elite squad, but he outranked Y/N immensely. Howzer just waved them to stand comfortably.

“ES-01, there is no need for such formalities. I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“Not at all. I was left to recover from the last mission. But I am well enough now. How can I help you, sir?”

Howzer smiled. It was a friendly smile, honest and a bit sad.

“They call you ONCE, right? And your squat uses they/them for you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mind if I do that too? Numbers and assignments are a bit impractical sometimes so us clones use monikers, but I don’t know too much about naturally born’s and their naming traditions.”

Howzers smile turned a bit shy.

“Not at all, captain. It’s alright.”

Howzer sat down on one of the bunks in front of ONCE. ONCE followed his lead and fell back on their bunk. Now they sat in the small room, their knees nearly touching and smiling like young cadets in polite anticipation.

An awkward second none of them spoke.

“I appreciate you checking on me. But I am sure you are not only here to ask about my health, sir.”

Howzer looked away like he got caught pranking.

“Well… I do think it is my job to make sure everyone on my base is fine. Even if you are not under my command and it isn’t technically my base anymore.” He cleared his throat. “But I do actually need something else from you as well.”

ONCE studies his face. He was a high-ranking officer, an experienced soldier and - like all clones - a warrior. And despite the harsh realities of war that shaped all the clone trooper’s life’s, Howzer had maintained youthfulness in his demeanour. Even now, he looked at ONCE with an open and careful expression.

“What can I do for you, captain?” ONCE finally answered and hinted at the helmet and the build-in listening device as a careful reminder that their conversation wasn’t confidential.

“ONCE, I need to know what happened up there in the canyon.”

“Sir, I am sure I can’t add to what you already know from the reports.” ONCE replied defensively. Whatever Y/N might feel about their life as a soldier, talking openly about their work was a luxury they could not afford. Especially when Y/N was still working through the fragmented memories of being carried and stripped out of their armour by commander Tech.

“The reports do not mention anyone up the canyon.” Howzer continued. “And yet I know that commander Tech had carried you nearly unconscious and a sniper rifle with you both to an LAAT ship that picked you up. And I know that the Twi’lek senator Tarr got hit by a precise blast coming from somewhere of the top of the canyon. I was there. I know what I saw. And I can add all these information together. You need to tell me why it happened.”

Howzers voice had become demanding and intimidating.

And yet he still had the expression of a young man in disbelieve of the atrocities happening in plain sight. ONCE felt hopelessness and regret rising again. Howzer just wanted to understand but it was impossible to explain the banalities of evil at work. The Empire was power hungry. The Twi’leks were resistant. And Tarr had died because he outlived his usefulness as a pawn in this power struggle, killed by ONCE. They remembered that much. But with the listening device in their helmet close by ONCE was in no position to confess without getting court martialled afterwards - if they were lucky.

There was nothing ONCE could say.

“I am sorry, captain. I can only recall very little. But it seems you already know what happened. I am sure you will understand why it happened and that I had no pleasure in following command. But I am a soldier -maybe a bit like you. We are expected to follow orders whatever the costs and then continue on like nothing happened.”

ONCE smiled, hoping he would understand.

Howzer nodded, his expression now nothing but hopeless and lost like a little boy without his family.

ONCE took his gloved hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

It was a familiar gesture between two equally helpless hostages not in control of their life’s.

A desperate look crossed Howzer before he silently formed a word with his lips, carefully hiding his message from the listening device.

Hera

It was the Twi’lek kids name that got away. The kid, that the elite squat was hunting down.

ONCE shook their head.

No, they don’t have her. Yet.

Y/N’s comm lighted up – the Commander calling in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Commander Tech was in the observation room. Various monitors displayed a never-ending racing flow of surveillance data in aurebesh, numbers and holo transmissions.

Most of it was in in Basic, some wasn’t.

Staring at it with a cup of caf in his hands was the commander.

“How are you feeling?” He asked without looking away from the screens.

“Better.”

In the blue tinted electronic light coming from the holo screens Y/N could see Tech raising an eyebrow.

“I am not only your commander but also your medic. Are you sure you are fine and therefore fit for duty?”

Y/N considered the underlying question. Do you want to return to being a soldier?

“Sir, as long as I am well enough to perform, I am expected to serve.” I don’t have a choice but to return. I can walk steady on both my feet and hold a gun therefore I am good enough to be cannon fodder again. That’s what I signed up for.

Tech tilted his head and took a sip from his cup.

“That is valid point you’re making. As you can see, I am a bit busy with searching the run-away Hera Syndulla. Officially, I can’t examine and clear you fit for duty right now. But I will take your word under the condition you stay close to me in case something happens. Is that alright with you?”

ONCE considered. The commander was asking for a favour. He wasn’t ordering. And he had not only covered for them once but was concerned about their safety. In the oddest way possible and considering the circumstances ONCE was tempted to call this romantic.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

Y/N sat down next to Tech.

“Do you remember everything from this morning, ONCE?”

His tone was casual. But there was more to it.

“I…yes, I think I remember everything.” ONCE paused looking at Tech. His face was unmoved and impression-less. His eyes hidden behind the lenses, blue by the mirroring screens. “Sir, I am very thankful for your… actions.”

Still, nothing. Maybe all his kindness and patience with ONCE was imagined. Maybe he was just their commander and his reasons from saving ONCE from military questioning and punishment was purely practical.

ONCE felt like an utter fool.

“Fascinating.”

“I am sorry, sir?” Confused they looked at the commander.

“Comm the squad and get your full gear. We are getting attacked.”

An alarm went off.

ONCE saw several alarms popping up on the screens.

A feeling of dread and terror rose in ONCE. Returning to duty was one thing. Entering a fight was another.

Tech grabbed them at the arm, pulling them closer and forcing them to look up to his towering dark height. “Remember, stay close to me.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N left Tech with a look of anxiety and confusion in their eyes.

*crack*

He grimaced painfully. He had broken the cup in his hands, caf dripping down on his armoured leg now. Maybe hiding everything about himself from Y/N would be harder than he thought it would be.

He sighted and allowed himself to linger a bit more on the thought of Y/N and before devoting himself to the tasks ahead.

Someone had attacked the refinery.

What an odd choice. Was it a coincidence with the Syndullas in custody here on the base? Or was there a plan and connection between those facts?

His eyes squinted to see better. Damn Ryloth and its dust. His googles were dirty again.

The Surveillance data showed the leaving troopers going to the refinery. Quiet a lot of them.

If all those troopers left, who would guard the prisoners?

Tech leant back. Caf dripping down his leg, glasses dirty and surrounded by idiots. What was he doing here?

Movement on the screens made Tech face the wall of monitors again.

The surveillance camera transmitted a stream from the refinery with two clones running over the fortified walls.

Echo.

Hunter.

His brothers were here. Tech felt his body respond with a rush of endorphins he quickly tried to ignore.

Think Tech! Don’t let these traitors distract you! What does their presence mean?

He was sure now. Directly attacking the refinery was too simple. Even without him the strategies of his brothers always were absurdly chaotic and erratic. The straight attack just had to be a distraction.

He opened a comm channel to his elite squat.

“Commander speaking. Come to the base shipyard as soon as possible.”

“Sir, isn’t the attack on the refinery?”

“I know, ES-04. Just follow your orders.”

“But sir-“

Tech ended his connection and rolled his eyes. His brothers never had reacted like that. They always knew he had reasons behind his actions.

Frustrated he threw away the broken cup and put on his helmet.

The shipyard was nearly empty. Most LAAT’s and smaller ship were off to the refinery. The attack had drawn nearly all forces away.

ONCE and the Elite squat waited for commander Tech. A couple of regs were with them.

“Who are those?” Tech required.

“Sir, the regular troopers were off duty. I called them in for back up.”, ONCE replied. As always, they were the only one thinking and getting what he had already figured out.

“Good. Get into position before the main gate. Facing inward.”

“The enemy is inside already?”

“Likely. And this is their way out.”

“They? Who is our enemy?”

“Clone force 99.”

The door opened.

Both troopers and elite squad raised arms. But instead of prisoners or the bad batch, Howzer stepped outside.

“Oh.” Tech stated flatly. He hadn’t considered the inner emotional workings at play. Again.

“Brothers!” Howzer call out to the troopers. “What are we doing? We came her to free Ryloth from separatist control. And we succeeded. But look around you. Now we are being ordered to target the very people we sworn to protect! And I will not be a part of it any longer.”

The captain threw down his weapon.

“Who is with me?”

For a short second no one moved. Tech felt his head running at high speed, calculating every option for further action. ONCE, standing next to him, started shaking.

He went cold.

If ONCE threw down their weapons now, they were dead. Tech could do nothing to save them from the empire. Admiral Rampart or whoever imperial was in charge would court martial them. Y/N would be dead. He didn’t need to calculate the chances for that, to know their survival rate were slim.

Please don’t leave me. Tech, suddenly ready to pray to whoever gods were willing to listen to his pleas, leant towards Y/N, unable to stop himself.

They stopped shaking the moment his armour touched theirs.

Some of the regs laid down their weapons. ONCE kept their rifle, unmovable. Relief washed over Tech.

“Arrest those traitors.” He ordered, thinking of anything else but the one person he truly wanted to be saved right now. Even if he had to sacrifice a battalion of regs for that to draw attention away from Y/N.

The elite squad and the loyal troopers moved in. Tech felt detached from what was happening. Nothing mattered. Not even the shuttle with his brothers lifting off somewhere.

He wanted Y/N, wanted to hold them and whisper sweet words and promises he damn well intended on keeping just to make sure that they would be fine and safe. He looked up to see his Y/N putting hand cuffs on Howzer, sneaking a small blade into his boot. His brain registered it but did not care. As far as he was concerned ONCE could commit every act of treason and he would still be ready to commit mass murder just to cover their tracks. Whatever Tech had thought he could keep to himself was brought bare before him the moment Y/N had been in mortal danger, his need for Y/N unable to be hidden.

>>>>>

Do you want to be tagged in the next part or like my writing in general? Write me a message.

<<<<<<<

Part 6

#tbb toxic tech #tbb tech #tech x you #imperial tech #tech x y/n #tech x reader #the bad batch tech #tech bad batch #tech #the galactic empire #tbb #the bad batch #grimmwriting #i shortend this one because i was sitting on it and basically half wrote the next chapter already #star wars the bad batch #tbb tech fic #captain howzer

[letsunity]

Updated Lucky Batch!

@letsunity = CT-2002, Pepper, the “Medic” of Clone Force 37. He got his name after eating pepper spray that one time. He LOVES stickers. 

@maygaladon = CT-1313, Jackal, the ‘special’ specialist and Pilot. He’s knowledgably in very specific things and crashes more often than General Anakin Skywalker.

@foxlock= CT-3425, "Foxy", the over-enthusiastic sharpshooter of the team. Likes to make people laugh with his antics, but has been known to be the moody one of the bunch. Quiet around new people. Sarcastic. May have "accidentally" shot at General Skywalker after someone had dared him to. Also, Foxy is a hopeless romantic. Be prepared for elbow nudges and eyebrow wiggling.

@radbatch = CT-5050, Ballast, the Mechanic. He’s a blast, mostly because half of his inventions explode.

@monako-jinn-stories = CT-0017, Ryder, he’s the weapons specialist. He provides the best weapons and teaches his batchmates how to use them. He got his name because he refuses to walk anywhere. He’s always riding something, whether it’s a speeder or a walker, he’s never using his own two legs.

@oo-hazel-oo = CT-1800, Thumbs, the moral support/unlicensed therapist. Provides emotionally assistance, shooting a thumbs up every now and again.

@lusiawonder = CT- 8201, Boots, who does his very best and is the sharpshooter. 

@longearedowlfromouterspace = CT-0123, Jack, the jack of all trades who tries his darn hardest and ‘accidentally’ makes things go on fire. 

@lynnpaper = CT- 2531, Captain Raffle, the only braincell left in the batch, 

@just-another-freaking-dreamer = Jedi Knight, Master Mirkenna Whiro, the Jedi who can’t Jedi so bad that they got Clone Force 37, the batch that won’t die. 

Goose the Homicidal Droid. 

Our colour is turquoise, the emblem is a three leaved clover. We were too incompetent to make it right,

We are going to smother Tumblr XD

#The Lucky Batch #Clone Force 37 #star wars

[thelove-ablepenguin]

Ah here it is!! I finally wrote about my penguin clone ocs! Thank you @soclonely for the idea🥰, and @vanilla-chip-101 for the brainstorming sessions 🥰.

Lieutenant Pebble (CT-6565): The hopeless romantic of the squad and the strategist. As a young cadet he liked to give gifts to his batchmates as his way of showing his love, but on the ocean planet of Kamino, all he could ever find was pebbles off the bottom of ships. In his free time he would sneak outside to the landing platform and look for any rocks that he could find. He would bring them in and only the smooth or pretty ones were used as gifts. His brothers kept all of the rocks, even if they didn’t know what to do with them, and now Pebble can usually find a perfect rock for each brother on whatever planet they are located. 

Clone Trooper Kowaski (CT-6564): The smart and studious one of the group, but also the one to ramble off random facts and statistics. He didn’t get his name until after deployment, when the batch was located on a snowy planet with little war activity. While off duty, they were watching a holo drama about four penguins going on misadventures with other zoo animals, and as always, he started rambling about how scientifically incorrect the cartoon was. His batchmates started comparing him to the nerdy penguin in the holo and the name Kowaski stuck. He pretended to hate it at first, but now he embraces it. 

Clone Medic Flipper (CT-6563): The medic and a hopeless romantic in disguise! Flipper loves everything cute and cuddly, but as a cadet, he would never dare tell his brothers. Up until deployment, he was the top of his medic class, cold, calculating, and straight to the point. He was a great medic but he was known to be almost too strict. However, the facade came crashing down one day on the same snowy deployment where Kowaski got his name. Flipper and a brother were out on patrol and he accidentally stepped on the wing of a penguin. The poor medic broke down in tears, healed the penguin’s wing, and decided to be less strict, and more of his true self. He isn’t allowed to keep a penguin as a pet, but he would if he could. 

ARC Trooper Kororā (Core-Roar-Rrah) (CT-6562): Our beloved short king and the main hand to hand combat. As a cadet, Kororā, was always a few inches smaller than his batchmates. The Kaminoans thought he was defective, so he worked very hard to be the best combat clone of his batch. His determination to be a good soldier, pushed the Kaminoans into a debate on whether or not he would be decommissioned. Luckily he never had to worry about that, because during his last growth period, he caught up in height and weight with his batchmates. His brothers did tease him about his height when he was in a good mood, and since his favorite animals are penguins, they named him after the Māori word for the Little penguin species, Kororā. 

Captain Pal (CT-6561): The leader of the group and has a special talent of being able to use any weapon that he finds. Pal liked to research anything and everything as a cadet, even if he had to hack into forbidden data. During his research, he would look for anything that was similar to his CT number. Once, he found that there was an extinct penguin genus that stood about 6.561 feet tall named Palaeeudyptes. He instantly fell in love, but as the leader of the group, he felt it was too improper to be called anything other than his CT number. It wasn’t until Flipper’s breakdown, that he finally started using a name as well. Pal takes his responsibilities as leader seriously, so he’s usually the distant one unless he’s hanging out one on one. Then he’s a real jokester and also lets his soft side show. He does care about his brothers, but wants them to stay safe. 

#oc captain pal #oc arc trooper kororā #oc clone medic flipper #oc clone trooper kowaski #oc lieutenant pebble #my ocs #my orginal characters #orginal characters #yes all of them are based on penguins #penguin troopers

[wanderinginksplot]

Just for Kix

Next | Masterlist

Oaths

"Congratulations, men," Doctor Trask, the supervising physician, told them. "Now that you've passed your final assessment, you are officially medics for the Grand Army of the Republic. You may paint a medic's cross on your armor and you'll likely be asked to perform additional field duties, especially during and after combat."

The small group of men in the room smiled and looked at each other excitedly. The six of them had been working together for weeks, learning all of the necessary procedures and protocol to become medics.

Trask nodded once at them. "Dismissed."

"Are you going to ask?" Curl whispered to Kix.

"Excuse me, sir?" Kix asked loudly, stopping Trask in the middle of leaving the room.

"What is it, soldier?"

Kix fought not to show his disdain on his face. 'Soldier' was the only way Trask had ever referred to any of the men, despite having worked with the six of them for almost a full month.

"Well, sir-"

"That's Doctor, soldier," Trask snapped.

"Doctor, then," Kix repeated dryly, trying to ignore the snickers of the other men at his tone. Trask was not well-liked. "I've heard that civvie medical professionals take oaths to uphold the standards of the field. Do we do something similar?"

Trask snorted. He actually kriffing snorted. "Those oaths are for medical professionals."

"Don't tell me I've been in the wrong class all this time," Curl groaned, brushing a hand over his curly mohawk in fake distress. "My CO is going to have my shebs when he finds out."

"Oaths like the one you're talking about, soldier, are for people in the medical field with a life expectancy that is longer than a few months," Trask told Kix stiffly. "Dismissed."

And he left the room before anyone could say anything else. The other men began gathering their things while Kix was still staring at the spot where Trask had stood, silently fuming. More than a few of the other new medics cast sympathetic glances in Kix's direction, but they filtered out the room when he didn't respond.

"Are you gonna be okay, Kix?" Curl asked.

"We'll never be good enough for them, will we?" Kix asked. "I could cross-train into every hard skill and specialization that the GAR has to offer and the nat-borns would still look at me like I'm a droid they downloaded a new program onto."

"Not all of the nat-borns," Curl pointed out helpfully. "Just the ones we work with."

Kix gave him a look, not ready to find anything about the situation amusing.

Curl, good-natured as ever, just chuckled. "Come on, don't let some di'kut with an attitude take this away from you. From us. We're medics now, Kix. That's something to be proud of, even if we're the only ones who think so."

"You're right," Kix sighed. He didn't really feel much better, but he wasn't going to steal the experience from Curl just because of one bad experience. "Let's get out of here. We can go to 79s if you want."

"Hell, yeah!" Curl cheered. "We'll drink until you forget about Trask, then lecture every vod we see drinking too much."

That actually got Kix to smile as he agreed and they left the room.

"Finally," a voice sighed. "We didn't think you were ever coming out of there."

"Just because that hut'uun insulted you doesn't mean you should make us wait," another agreed.

From the voices, Kix was already prepared to see two brothers when he turned around, but something in the way the two were standing and talking made it clear that they shared a close connection. Kix was willing to bet that they were from the same batch, but the matching undercuts were a bit much.

"Shatter," the one on the left said in introduction.

"Sprain," said the one on the right.

"Curl," Curl said with a grin.

"And I'm Kix," he finished, unamused. "You said you were waiting for us?"

"You're the one who was asking about medic oaths, weren't you?" Sprain asked.

"Let us guess," Shatter said sarcastically. "Trask shut you down, told you that clone troopers are inferior and don't get to take medic oaths."

"Or some variation of that," Sprain added, a bit more sympathetically than the other trooper.

Kix gritted his teeth in an effort to keep his ire internal, so Curl answered for him. "That's exactly right. Told us clone troopers don't live long enough to need to bother."

"And what do you think of that?" Sprain asked.

"I think it's kriffing ridiculous, 'scuse my language," Curl told him.

The troopers looked at Kix then. "Do you agree?"

Kix gave a tight nod and Shatter grinned. "Good. Because we've got our own medic's traditions to uphold. The two of you are late to swear your oaths."

"Follow us," Sprain ordered.

"And if we don't?" Kix asked, more curious than malicious.

Shatter and Sprain glanced at each other. Sprain shrugged. "We can't tell you that you can't be a medic if you don't take the oaths, but no brother who finds out will choose you over someone who did swear, if you get what I'm saying."

"Are you gonna refuse?" Shatter asked sharply.

"Of course not," Kix replied. "I just wanted to know if it was mandatory."

Sprain and Shatter glanced at each other before breaking into matching grins. Shatter elbowed his brother. "Yeah, he'll fit in fine."

"Come with us and we'll talk about what being a medic really means," Sprain invited.

With their own shared glance, Kix and Curl followed the pair. Only a few minutes later, they found themselves in the underbelly of the GAR headquarters, standing in a darkened room that branched off from the system of pipes and wires that kept the building running. The other members of their class were there as well, looking just as uncertain as Kix felt.

"When is the right time to lie to a patient?" Sprain quizzed.

Kix frowned. "You should never lie to a patient."

Shatter fixed him with a stern look. "So if I was dying and there was no hope of recovery, you would tell me that? Let my last moments be filled with pain, fear, and hopelessness?"

"But Trask told us we should never lie to a patient, even if they are dying," Curl said hesitantly.

"Who cares what that di'kut said, we're talking-" Shatter cut himself off as Sprain made a disparaging noise.

"What my brother means is that Trask taught you the mechanics of being a medic," Sprain explained diplomatically. "We're here to remind you of the soft skills. Trask thinks that clones are nothing more than flesh droids, but we know better than that. In this case, it's more ethical to lie to your patient than to tell them there's no hope."

Kix could accept that as part of his own code. "Understood. What other advice do you have for us?"

"When possible, treat wounds as painlessly as possible, but let some things heal naturally if you have a trooper who won't learn," Shatter suggested.

"Don't be afraid to overrule a commanding officer who won't take care of their own health," Sprain told them.

Shatter squinted. "Never play favorites, especially if you have them."

Nodding at his brother's point, Sprain added, "Sometimes, regs are made to be broken."

"But never - ever - break the medic's code," Shatter emphasized seriously. "We can't stop troopers from being treated by you like civvie doctors do if they mess up, but we'll handle breaches ourselves if we have to."

"Are you ready to swear your oaths?" Sprain asked them.

Everyone nodded, and Kix and Curl both gave a quick salute in affirmation. The class repeated Shatter and Sprain's reverent recitations in a way they definitely hadn't bothered with Trask's teachings:

I swear to uphold this code, enforced not by generals, but by brothers:

I respect my training and will support my brothers who wish to follow in my footsteps.

I will treat my patients with necessary treatments, not exaggerating or denying treatment.

I know and remember that my behavior may help my patients, as well as harm them.

I can admit when I am wrong or do not know. I have resources who will help and I will be a resource to other medics.

I respect my patients and their free will. Each is a thinking being worthy of respect.

I know that I am not immortal. I treat others well and hope to someday be treated in a similar way.

"Finally," Sprain said with a note of finality, "do you agree to help Shatter and I swear in new medics whenever you are on Coruscant?"

"You don't have to, but it would help," Shatter cut in.

Amid the general murmur of agreement, Curl nodded. "I will, definitely."

"I'd be honored," Kix agreed, meaning every word.

---

A/N - This is a short companion series for Nobody Listens to Kix (full chapter list can be found on my masterlist at the top of the story). These are just some outtakes that didn’t fit the tone of the series, but all are completed and ready to be posted!

#Just for Kix #Nobody Listens to Kix #clone trooper kix #original clone troopers #medic oaths #star wars the clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #kix #clone medic kix #medic #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #please reblog