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Chapter Text

(KAMINO - EARLY 'JANUARY' OF 20 BBY - LATE MORNING)

A long time ago, on a planet far, far away...

Like, seventy thousand light years away from the Galactic Core... talking about just outside the boundaries of the galaxy here, people...

A freakishly tall, some would say elegant sentient species of isolationists were practically forgotten by the universe until a Jedi Master named Obi-Wan Kenobi noticed an error in the Jedi Archives while investigating an assassination attempt on Senator Padme Amidala. He ended up rediscovering the elusive aquatic, extragalactic planet of Kamino inhabited by its equally shifty species with hermit-like tendencies: 'the Kaminoans.'

With long necks that made easy maneuverability only the stuff of dreams, and oblong heads dotted with two almond-shaped black eyes with white pupils that were the stuff of nightmares, and slender bodies with equally stick-like limbs that made them pretty frail, really their only virtue was that because of their frame structure, all members of that race possessed such a graceful, gliding walk that it would make any person of high society incredibly jealous.

'What about their personalities?' You may ask, 'Couldn't that make up for any physical limitations?'

Hate to break it to ya, but I don't think a race of people so fondly called 'aiwha-bait' by their little scientific achievements have very many positive qualities to their personality, if any at all. And there's not really any other opinions out there, because the only time these antisocial technicians 'branched out' was when a person (preferably a rich one) learned of their special sciencey skills (cloning anything and everything) and exchanged a butt-load of creds for either a simple creation of a security/work force, or in other cases (which Obi-Wan discovered) whole kriffing armies that are genetically modified specifically for warfare.

The Clone Troopers that fought for the Galactic Republic during the Great War against the Confederacy of Independent Systems were considered by the Kaminoans as their finest army ever created, but that didn't mean they were allowed to eat a five-course meal with the Prime Minister, or be provided with proper clothing, or even given something so simple as a name. No, clone troopers were thought of as nothing more than Kaminoan property, and were treated as such. They dined in the mess hall with a tray filled with food designed to be more nutritional than tasty, their bodies were adorned with either training armor or a simple, itchy red tunic/pants combo with chunky grey boots, and they were only given a number upon coming out of the cloning tanks. And if that wasn't conforming enough, their very genetic structure was modified so that they couldn't try to stand up for themselves even if they wanted to - they were blindly obedient, save only for a few who were either killed or succeeded in deserting.

There were rumors that the Kaminoans experimented on specific creations, except it was not of the 'changing-their-diet-and-seeing-how-it-affected-their-overall-well-being' variety. They labeled it 'Endurance Training' but in reality, it was a torture session with various instruments, concoctions and mental affliction that they justified by saying it was preparing the troopers for such a time that they are captured by enemy forces, so they wouldn't give up any information on the Republics weaknesses.

But after the Republic got involved when the Clone Wars broke out, going so far as to send Jedi Masters to oversee the production and training of these clone troopers as the dark shadow of war spread across the galaxy, the Kaminoans found themselves having to adapt to the entire Republic looking over their shoulders, any secrets that they had just thrust out into the open whether they liked it or not, losing much of the control over most things, most frustratingly of all: THEIR CLONING PROPERTY.

Except it had taken centuries for the Kaminoans to achieve such a knack for being this secretive, so while yes, they were rediscovered and yes, the Republic got involved in their work, that didn't mean all their secrets were immediately revealed.

Nah, they were just too good at what they did.

Right under the Republics nose, in a private and underwater cloning facility that was never even put on a holo-map to ensure its existence would remain a secret until the end of time, Chief Medical Scientist Nala Se stood behind a thick pane of one way blaster-proof transparisteel that gave her a perfect view into the procedure room, awaiting the report from the brain scan AZI-345211896246498721347 was performing on the specimen that would hopefully tell her that SAC-1 was ready for the Citadel Challenge, something the doctor had spent the last four years preparing for. It would be her greatest achievement - a clone agent that was even better than ARC's, or CC's, or any force in special operations because SAC-1 had the capability to have all those abilities.

It took several years of intense research and there were lots and lots of waste to dispose of when experiment after experiment failed, but if this scan was favorable then it would all be worth it. With the extensive training coupled with the protocol biochip, SAC-1 would be an unstoppable secret weapon and, unlike those disobedient and trigger/explosive-happy fools who call themselves 'The Bad Batch', SAC-1 would be able to deal with her targets swiftly and with minimal damage, which would mean minimal costs and, most important of all, the Clone Agent would be completely compliant to the higher powers.

After an excruciating twenty minutes, the door that interlocked the rooms whooshed opened and the medical droid hovered into the room, having finished its scan.

She was completely emotionless on the outside, but on the inside Nala Se's heart was thrumming painfully in her chest. "Well?"

"The Level Five Atomic Brain Scan results indicate that there are no irregularities after the memory alteration procedure or any harm to her behavioral modification biochip, and coupled with the extensive Anti-Trauma De-Programming, SAC-1's mental state is 93.28% sound."

"What is preventing the last 6.72%?"

"SAC-1, despite frequent visits to the isolation tanks and extensive reconditioning, still has a tendency for bouts of anger when challenged. They have decreased significantly as she has reached the mental and emotional maturity of twenty years, but there is still a chance those flare ups could manifest, and it could happen at the most inopportune times."

Nala Se turned her thoughtful gaze back to the sedated female trooper peacefully laying on the observation table, the life support computer giving a rhythmic beep to show that her vitals were 100% stable... unlike her mental state, unfortunately.

SAC-1 was the first and only experiment in her batch to successfully handle all the preparations for war, the first batch not even making it past infancy, the next not able to handle the acute cognitive training, becoming unhinged as soon as pressure was added and rendered absolutely useless. The second to last were unable to withstand the intense strength training regime because of the same issue, and the last bunch could handle it all, but once the endurance tests began, they did a complete 180 and became unstable.

It was because of this that Nala Se decided to go ahead with the Citadel Challenge - she had no more time or patience left to go through another four years of this. Compared to all of her predecessors, SAC-1 was in perfect health. 93.28% - she liked those odds. "Bring her out of the induced coma and help her prepare for her transference to Tipoca City." Nala Se instructed in that calm, emotionless tone, turning from the viewport and intending to contact the Prime Minister who was anxiously waiting by for the news.

The droid's tone was unsure, "What about her explosive tendencies? Will that not cause problems on the battlefield?"

Nala Se's dull, impassive eyes were still intimidating as they seemed to see right through the droid, "What is important is that she is completely obedient when given orders, not questioning them in a slightest, and has achieved a level of skill that has passed all other soldiers created. And if she does develop a rebellious attitude, the inhibitor chip will step in and quell those traits." Finished wasting time, she went to step into her office, not noticing the little blonde girl huddled behind a crate who let out a breath of relief when the mistress's door shut behind the long-neck.

The little blonde girl stepped out into the open-

"Omega!" AZI exclaimed loudly, making the girl furiously shush him, looking fearfully at the door and expecting her guardian to walk out and scold her.

After ten seconds of nothing happening, the tension left Omega's tiny frame.

"Omega," AZI said a lower, more chiding tone, "You do know that the entire point of the memory alteration procedure was to effectively erase you from SAC-1's memory so your existence will be kept a secret and you will be safe from the Separatists - you should not be here, where she could see you."

Omega's face became so depressingly crestfallen, and she sighed mournfully, "I know that I just... wanted to see Blades one last time before she left, and I was all alone down here again." Her right hand, which had been held behind her back during this exchange, revealed itself to be clutching to a little Loth-wolf stuffie, "And to give this to you, so you could sneak it into her supplies without Nala Se knowing."

The droid gasped in fright, "All of SAC-1's inefficacious playthings were to be discarded as soon as she reached the stage of development that allowed her to start vigorously training!"

Omega became sheepish, "I know, but she is a lot like Wrecker and gets a lot of comfort from this little guy." She thrust it into his hands, "Just hide it in one of your internal compartments and slip it into one of the crates."

AZI fumbled with the piece of contraband, "T-This goes completely against my programming!"

"Please, AZI?" Omega pleaded, "It will help her feel more at ease when she's out there, slicing through big bad droids with her sword!" She enhanced the meaning of her statement with a slicing gesture of her own hand, then egged the droid on, "Come on - don't you want her to succeed?" Her lip trembled as painful memories resurfaced, "Remember what happened to all those other girls? Do you want that to happen to Blades?"

"Who?"

Omega rolled her eyes, "SAC-1?"

The droid perked up, "Oh, of course I want her to succeed! She is an exceptional clone experiment, highly intelligent and physically substantial - the possibilities for SAC-1 are limitless!"

Omega grinned, knowing she had succeeded in manipulating the flighty droid, and pushed it towards him. "Then put the toy in her things."

AZI's eyes scanned the piece of stitched together fabric filled with plastic beads, "This 'toy' will help SAC-1 reach her full potential?" He asked curiously.

"Yes."

"And if SAC-1 reaches her full potential, then Mistress Nala Se will be content, and not have this exceptional specimen terminated?"

"Exactly."

AZI thrust the stuffie above his head, as if he was holding a precious treasure, "Then I find putting this piece of contraband into SAC-1's supplies to be an exceptional quest!"

Omega giggled, then turned somber as she focused on the transperisteel that would allow her to see the only living friend she'd had down here for the last four years who, after the procedure was complete, would now not even remember her. Her feet dragged to the barrier, and she put a hand to it as she beheld the sleeping form of SAC-1 - or Blades, as she had fondly dubbed her at such a young age for the weapon she was most adept with.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

The young girl's only comfort was that Blades was going to be joining the squad of defective clones she had watched grow up from a distance by secretly reading through Nala Se's reports on them, and was confident they were going to take good care of her.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(FOUR DAYS LATER)

"Any idea why they called this meeting, Hunter?" Wrecker asked as the Bad Batch walked through the painfully bright white halls of Tipoca City to the Prime Minister's chamber, each wearing a puzzled looks on his face as to why they had been summoned, but at the same time tense, alert and ready to defend themselves in this reg-infested territory if the need arose.

"Did you start another fight again?" Hunter asked, knowing that on their last mission, which required them to interact with regs on a Jedi Cruiser, they had let Wrecker to go grab a snack in the mess hall by himself.

"No I behaved," Wrecker insisted, then muttered to himself regretfully, "Even though that guy deserved it."

Hunter looked upon the smart one in the squad. "Tech, any ideas?"

"Seeing as Wrecker did not start a fight, I unfortunately cannot fathom why the Prime Minister would want to see us - we have maintained a 100% success rate on our missions since our deployment and keep to ourselves."

They arrived not long after, unprovoked thank the force, though Wrecker had other sentiments.

Hunter's hand purposely hovered over the control panel. "Last chance to let me know if anything happened on our last mission, Wreck." Hunter liked a heads up so he could come up with a good defense beforehand.

"I told ya I didn't start a fight!" Wrecker insisted.

Hunter sighed, hating having to do anything even remotely related to these damned long-necks, let alone having a conversation with the head honcho of the aiwha-bate club.

Pressing the access button, the soldiers squared their soldiers and marched in, saluting to Prime Minister Lama Su more out of routine than respect, who was elegantly perched in his floating chair.

"You wanted to see us, Prime Minister?" Hunter greeted.

"Yes."

Hunter had to suppress a groan of annoyance at that low, sloooooooow voice, but remained impassive.

Lama Su folded his hands. "I have decided that there should be some changes made to the squad."

Shook to the core, they all - even Hunter - looked at each other in surprise and confusion. Changes could mean being separated, and they were all they had.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, stoic Hunter managed to repeat Tech's words calmly. "Changes? But we have a 100% success rate."

"Yes, and we have been working with a clone that could be a valuable asset to your squad."

While it was a relief that they weren't going to be separated, it only a small one because this change was actually way, WAY worse.

"We don't work with regs." Crosshair remarked in that crude voice of his.

Hunter cleared his throat to put all the attention back on him, hoping the Prime Minister wouldn't reprimand his brothers stellar people skills. "What Crosshair means is that we get the job done with just the four of us, so why do we need another squad member?"

Lama Su slowly rose from his chair. "Follow me to the training facility." He ordered, and Bad Batch went without much of a choice.

Lama Su led them to the observation deck in the training hall, where Doctor Nala Se and two other Kaminoans were already standing by the computers that controlled the environment below.

"Is SAC-1 ready?" Lama Su asked the Chief Medical Scientist.

"SAC-1 is awaiting my signal." She said, then the Kaminoan to the left of them pressed a button on the computer.

A trap door in the middle of the training facility opened and up came the trooper on the rising platform. He was dressed in plain white armor with standard ammunition pouches, a training DC-17 hand blaster on the belt, a JT-12 jetpack, a scabbard, a training DC-17m ICWS in his hands, a vibroblade sheath on his left gauntlet. He definitely looked skilled, and eager as he bounced from foot to foot, anxiously waiting to ace the test.

"Special Agent Clone-1 was bred with desirable mutations." Nala Se explained as the helmeted warrior directed his gaze up to Nala Se, awaiting the signal that his trial had started.

"What sort of mutations?" Tech asked curiously, and the rest of the group listened intently, for it wasn't everyday a clone came along that was different like them.

"Enhanced senses, eyesight, strength, and intelligence."

Openly gaping Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair were absolutely floored that someone else possessed their special abilities, and all of them combined!

"It took a considerable amount of time to create and stabilize the genetic code," Nala Se continued, "But we have finally produced a sound clone with all of these capabilities. These combined enhancements will make the trooper a formidable soldier." Nala Se nodded at a Kaminoan at the computer and gestured with her hand. "You are here to observe the troopers Citadel Challenge."

Various floating droids and towers scattered around the arena appeared with guns ready and the trooper snapped to attention. He gracefully dodged several blasts then hid behind a block, readying his sniper rifle.

He whipped around and shot at the gun on the first tower with his rifle, hitting it dead on then hid behind the block again. He repeated that action with another tower and succeeded, dealt with a floater droid that came around the block by discarding the rifle, taking his vibroblade and rushing the machine.

That surprised the Bad Batch because regs usually picked off droids from a distance or tried to dodge all the fire, climb the hill to retrieve the pole that disabled everything, and declared themselves victorious by boring antics.

The way he effortlessly dodged several blasts made it seem as if he knew what direction they were going to come from BEFORE the blast. He dove under the droid and jabbed his blade into its back. Then he jumped out of the way as the last tower blasted at him.

Without his sniper rifle he launched the blade in the air and whipping out his hand blaster he shot at the blade for extra force, embedding it into the towers gun and putting it out of commission.

That last move caught Crosshair's attention, and he wasn't the only one. Several clones passing by different windows let out exclamations of awe and pressed themselves against the glass, observing the odd crazy clone doing odd crazy things.

Seven floating droids remained and of course the cannons on the hills cliffside, so the trooper activated the jetpack to accelerate his jump at just enough speed to avoid blasts and landed on the back of one of the droids, making it panic and spin around erratically while still shooting rounds, some hitting three other droids and making them short circuit. The trooper then wrapped his arms around the droid he was on and kriffing crushed it, discarding it as if it was a light scarp pile and pulled out the showstopping weapon - his vibrosword from its scabbard.

Intrigued, Tech adjusted his specs to make sure he was seeing this right. "That is similar to the vibroswords Separatist Commando Droids use." He pointed out, raising his eyebrows as the trooper began not deflecting per se, but absorbing shots from the droids and cliff with the sword, which attracted more clones' attention.

"Is he a Jedi?" Wrecker asked incredulously.

"That's impossible, Wrecker." Crosshair said in a 'Duh' tone, making Wrecker pout, feeling stupid.

"SAC-1 enhanced senses are more in depth and allow the trooper to predict blaster targets from the electromagnetic properties of the expelled plasma."

Wrecker laughed and punched Hunter's shoulder. "Even you can't do that, Sarge!" He teased, making Hunter roll his eyes.

The trooper rushed one droid while absorbing the blasts, ducking under the gun and with an unforgiving arc of the deadly metal the droid was slashed in half. Tucking and rolling to another the gun was slashed off then power kicked it into another droid before it registered he was there and an explosion when they both collided with a tower caused vibrations felt from up here.

Absorbing the shots of the last droid with one hand he snapped out his hand blaster and ended the battle on the ground with one shot.

From there, the rest was child's play. Scaling up the side of one of the towers that didn't appear to have any foot holds, blaster fire from the cliffside hot at his heels, he next crouched behind the railing and sniped off the laser cannons dotting the hill, never missing one despite having to dodge dozens of blasts, able to take out a few in one go, then clicked an attachment onto his rifle and shot a cable that attached on one end to the side of the tower and the other end to the wall behind the pole, and much to amazement of all the adrenaline junkies overlooking the performance, watched him shrug off the dead weight of his blasters and jet pack, which could have easily transported him to the pole across the arena but apparently this guy had a flare for the dramatics, which made the Bad Batch smirk as that was exactly their type of thing

He effortlessly balanced himself and softly padded across the thin line to the pole, the hard ground at least forty or fifty feet below him. When he reached the end of the line above the pole, he jumped off, did a flip and caught the end of the pole when he was suspended upside down, then elegantly landed in a crouch, two seconds later shooting up to his feet and thrusting the pole up in victory.

The clones around the arena threw their hands up and roared cheers for the trooper, and the Bad Batch - even Crosshair - couldn't help but be impressed by the actions of the trooper. He definitely wasn't a reg.

The soldier, once he was done relishing the feeling of his success, touched the side of his helmet, awaiting communication as to what to do next.

Nala Su pressed the communication button on her data pad. "Come on up." She said, and the trooper nodded and wandered through the door that appeared behind him.

"He's a good fighter, I'll give him that." Hunter conceded, looking at his squad to see what they're opinions were.

Wrecker got all excited. "I like him! He gets our style!"

Tech stroked his chin. "I agree with Wrecker. SAC-1's capabilities are definitely different from regular clones, and he seems to understand our way of handling missions."

Crosshair took the toothpick out of his mouth. "At least he isn't a boring, predictable reg." He commented, which was about as much praise the trooper was going to get from him.

"This simulation showed only a small fraction of SAC-1's abilities." Nala Se said. "In a real battle is where she will show her true skills."

Clone Force 99 snapped to the clone engineer, looking at her like she had grown three heads. "SHE?!" They said simultaneously, then SAC-1 suddenly appeared behind them, making them flinch.

"Take off your helmet, Agent." Lama Su instructed.

SAC-1 nodded and obeyed, and Clone Force 99 sucked in a sharp breath as underneath that helmet wasn't the same face that one billion other clones had. Underneath that helmet was a young woman with unblemished fair skin, jet black hair that was just past her shoulders, and wide silver eyes with a curious twinkle.

Chapter Text

Clone Force 99 and every other trooper who followed the FEMALE CLONES movements with eyes the size of saucers.

With all the bulky armor on it was hard to tell she was different from the million other clone troopers available, except if one had been paying closer attention to her appearance, they would have noticed the now obvious, slightly more cinched waist exposed between the chest plate and codpiece instead of the usual stockiness of regular male clone troopers, though she was still sturdily built with visible muscles. SAC-1 was shorter than regular clone troopers too, standing at 5'5".

Once her helmet was off, it was seen that she had longish wavy jet-black hair tinted with purple that was braided back, and very expressive silver eyes.

The first three seconds SAC-1 was fine with the silence and staring as she knew this would be a big shock to the regular clone troopers, but after ten seconds of no one saying anything and gawking at her in ways she found greatly uncomfortable, she tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear that came undone from her bun self-consciously, and a red tint appeared on her cheeks when meekly addressing Nala Se. "Soooo - I passed, right?"

Nala Se confirmed: "Yes, and you will be joining Clone Force 99." And SAC-1 wanted to dance for joy!

Multiple gasps sounding, bystanders didn't try to hide they're furiously whispering about this (to them) unfortunate revelation, which went right over her head.

Smiling brightly at her new bewildered squad, SAC-1 respectfully saluted to Hunter. "It's an honor to serve under you, Sergeant!"

Merely blinking incredulously down at her, Hunter couldn't form a reply, the calm, cool and collected demeanor long gone for the fearless leader of the Bad Batch.

Her smile faltered. She lowered her hand after a second, awkwardly tapping her fingers against the helmet tucked under her arm. 'I've done everything right, haven't I? So why are they all staring at me like this?' The initial excitement gone and no other show being put on they cared to watch, clones began filing away one by one, spreading the unfortunate news around the city to their brethren, both disappointed and envious at this news. Nala Se and Lama Su congregated in the corners of this alcove, quietly discussing the satisfactory results amongst themselves, leaving SAC-1 to deal with these awkward introductions all by herself, not knowing how to deal with it in the slightest. 'Who talks first, do I talk first, do THEY talk first-?'

Wrecker was the first of his brothers to snap out of his stupor. "Uh, let me see if I understand this right." SAC-1 had to crane her neck when he stepped up, and even though she was confident in her ability to defend herself from the giant, she still found herself fighting a flinch when he confusedly pointed down at her. "You're a girl." He stated the obvious, as if actually saying it out loud would help Wrecker process this, or it'd be revealed this was all a weird joke.

Surprisingly, Crosshair gave no sarcastic remark to Wrecker's lack of brains, but that was probably because his own brain had stopped working.

Hiding her uneasiness perfectly, SAC-1 gave a short huff for a laugh and a nod of affirmation. "I am."

Wrecker scratched his head, still very much confused. "I've never seen a girl clone before."

"That's because I'm the first successful experiment." SAC-1 informed him matter-of-factly, hiding her distaste also very well, knowing what happened to the failed experiments.

Nodding slowly, Wrecker could only shrug in response, not knowing what else to say and stepped back in line with his uneasy brothers.

SAC-1's broad smile faltered, another awkward silence taking over again, so she cleared her throat and which caught Nala Se's attention and the female clone reminded her excitedly, "Um, I was promised a tour of Tipoca after my test."

Nala Se of course returned her enthusiasm with about as much energy as a corpse. "I have many things to attend to, but I trust your new squad can show you the city." Again, this was more of an order than a suggestion. "And tomorrow morning we will discuss the new arrangements for Clone Force 99."

SAC-1 was forced to promise they would all be there on the gaping squadrons behalf, and finally parted ways with Nala Se and Lama Su after four grueling years, left to trust that her new squad would help her become the great soldier she was meant to be.

Pure glee bubbling up within her body and feeling a hundred times lighter already, SAC-1 let it show through another wide grin and regarded the squad, who flinched when she whirled towards them. "So, where to first?"

Hunter's mind was still lagging, a dumb expression glued onto his face. "Uh -"

"Can I make a suggestion?" SAC-1 interrupted, not very well versed in human interaction. "I have a great desire to see the Ha Zurh Library and Records Office!"

Naturally, Tech perked right up. "The Library is the perfect place to start!" For not one of his brothers in Clone Force 99 ever wanted to go to the place of infinite knowledge.

He eagerly stepped up to SAC-1 and took the liberty of leading her in the right direction, and the rest of the Bad Batch had no choice but to look at each other uneasily and blindly follow.

With enthusiastic hand gestures Tech said as they walked, "They have an extraordinary scientific collection, and though the Kaminoans keep to themselves I'm told this library rivals the Jedi Archives, rumored to hold the sum total of all galactic knowledge - I'd give ANYTHING to see it in person and read every bit of information there. The Library has maps of the entire galaxy, in addition to scientific holobooks, mathematical and astronomical holobooks, engineering and technology documents, detailed geography and cultures of various planets and species across the galaxy, as well as their botany and zoology."

SAC-1 listened intently to Tech gushing about his favorite holobooks found in the library, though the rest of the squad's ears rung from their brothers babbling in addition to having raging lightheadedness from their entire lives being turned upside down.

They got a new squad member, which was enough in itself to deal with - it'd been the four of them their entire lives - but this new member had all their enhancements combined, and if that wasn't enough, the new member was a woman. This was a lot to take in, and then Nala Se mentioned even MORE changes would take place tomorrow.

The Bad Batch boys would never admit it out loud, but they were terrified about this whole thing... well Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair were, because Tech on the other hand seemed to have made a new best friend, who to his immense joy listened to his rambling and also asked questions which showed she was actually interested in what he had to say, a truly rare but welcome occurrence for the brainiac clone commando.

It didn't help ease the other's nerves that every clone trooper openly stared and whispered as the squad passed.

A couple paces behind the geeking out duo, Hunter felt Crosshair lean closer from behind. "Are we just going to go along with this?" He asked in a low tone.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Hunter could only mutter back, "The Prime Minister didn't really give us much of a choice."

"We don't need another squad member, especially one like her." Crosshair spat.

Hunter shrugged indifferently. "You saw how she handled those droids - she seems like a good soldier." He said that more to convince himself than his brother.

"A simulation is different from a real battle." Crosshair intoned knowingly, "She's too wide-eyed and innocent - we'll be babysitters if nothing else."

"There's nothing I can do about this, Crosshair." Hunter hissed, tired of arguing. "An order is an order."

"Since when?" Crosshair challenged, and Hunter didn't reply because really, his brother was right.

Reaching the library, SAC-1 was in awe at the bookcases upon bookcases full of holo-books and data-tapes she was dying to read! She plopped her helmet on a random table and strides up to one of the nearby bookcases, feeling its contents and beholding at the infinite knowledge available to her. "They don't have these where I came from." Was her breathless observation while the rest of the crew sat down at the round table she'd claimed, with knitted brows watching the new recruit get so excited over something that was so trivial to most people.

"Where exactly do you come from?" Tech wondered, taking out his datapad. "There is no mention of you in the clone trooper database."

SAC-1 didn't turn around, pulling out a random holobook. "Type in the code name Beta." She did say though.

Doing so, a file Tech had never seen came up, perhaps it was unlocked after she came to Tipoca? "You were created four years ago in a remote facility two hundred miles from Tipoca City and have a different host for your genetic structure - a female host!" He revealed, surprise evident on him and his brothers, "And since you have passed the Citadel Challenge with flying colors, you are considered by the Kaminoans one of their greatest scientific accomplishments."

SAC-1 hummed in agreement, and having chosen a book seated herself next to Hunter. "And since I turned out so well, they plan on creating more Special Agent Clones, though not in the large numbers like the clone troopers for the Grand Army." The holobooks translucent screen lit up and revealed hundreds of chapters and maps of the planet Coruscant, to which she eagerly began soaking up all she could on the Core of the Galaxy.

Tech sat down next to her, still engrossed in SAC-1's file that magically appeared. "I can see why," He agreed to her last statement, "It takes more money to create and train a specialized clone agent like you than it takes to create an entire company of regular clone troopers."

"You get what you pay for." SAC-1 confirmed distractedly, eyes lit up from the screen which intensified the curious glint that was already present. "I'm designed to succeed in all types of missions."

"The name of your female human donor is An'Ya Tyree and... that's all the information on her." Tech looked at SAC-1 expectantly, wishing for her to elaborate.

"She's a rogue Mandalorian like your host - Jango Fett - and she was responsible for my training, then left Kamino after I proved ready for the Citadel Challenge." SAC-1 explained before turning to her screen again.

"How interesting - I'd love to scan you!" Tech said rather than asked enthusiastically.

Distracted SAC-1's nod was absent-minded, but he received quirked brow once she processed his odd request. "Um, excuse me?"

"Your DNA." He clarified, adjusting his specs. "To analyze it."

SAC-1 blinked but relaxed. "Oh... I suppose that's okay, just as long as I'm not hooked up to any machines or wires." A grim frown tugging at her lips, this was the first time they'd seen her do anything but be a bundle of sunshine. "I've had enough of that in my life."

Hunter felt a pit in his stomach form, hoping that didn't mean what he thought it meant, but Wrecker spoke up and diffused the awkward silence that followed... With more awkwardness. "Alright, I'm just gonna say it," He glanced at each of his brothers, and gestured erratically to back up his equally bewildered statement, "This is weird, right? All of... THIS?"

SAC-1's eyebrows furrowed while Crosshair crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair with a scowl. "I never thought I'd agree with anything Wrecker said."

Exasperated, Hunter swiped a hand over his face at their lack of subtlety. 'Couldn't they have waited until we were alone?'

"You should work on getting over your shock." Tech advised with no regret. "SAC-1 has proven she will be a good addition to our squad."

"You just like her because she's an egghead like you." Crosshair retorted coarsely.

Tech was about to retort himself, SAC-1 was about to ask what an egghead was, but Hunter abruptly stood, cutting them both off. "SAC-1, are you ready to continue the tour?"

SAC-1's forehead creased in confusion, sensing the weird tension. "Um..." Then she brightened, wanting to not add any more trouble. "Sure!"

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The tour ended at the cafeteria, where after many hours of walking Clone Force 99 was happy to finally eat something after all the walking, even if it meant going into Reg Infested Territory central.

Since SAC-1 wasn't engaged in conversation with Tech or devouring holobook after holobook, she was able to observe all of the clones in the area going down the food line. 'Strange...' Glancing to her left at burly Wrecker, then to her right at slightly stick-like Crosshair, her a puzzled expression earned an awkward smile from the first and a sneer from the second.

"What are you staring at?" Crosshair derisively asked.

She squinted, only further grating on him. "Are you sure you guys are clones? You don't look anything like the others."

Rolling his eyes he didn't grant her with an answer, just rudely turned his back on her and marched away with his full tray.

The young woman frowned, a hint of fear in her eyes. 'Did I do something wrong already?'

Tech replaced Crosshair at her side. "Our genetic mutations altered our appearance." He explained as he put food on his tray, kindly filling hers too, trying to make up for Crosshair's rudeness.

A fond smile erased any traces of insecurity for now, SAC-1 finally putting two and two together on why she was placed with them. "So you're unique, like me!" Nala Se had given her minimal information on these batch of clones beforehand.

"That's one way of putting it." Hunter muttered darkly to himself, but she easily picked it up with her enhanced hearing.

SAC-1 didn't know what he meant until they were careening to the table Crosshair claimed, the boys' eyes scanning their surroundings shrewdly and entire frames tense as they expected to be attacked or something.

In the home stretch, just as they were beginning think there was no danger, a trio of regular clones casually sauntered by the group-

And the one closest to Tech sneakily reached out and flipped the brainiacs tray, his bowl of soup spilling all over his front.

SAC-1 gaped.

Tech grimaced.

Wrecker's eyes became ablaze at the perp. "Hey!"

"Oh what? Can't take a joke?" One of the other clones taunted, and other clones nearby began immaturely snickering amongst themselves.

Scowling, Wrecker went to size up the clone who played the prank on his younger brother, but Hunter struck his free hand out. "Just let it go, Wrecker." He ordered tiredly.

"Yeah, just let it go Wrecker!" The third clone mocked, which did make Hunter shoot a glare at him.

The squad tried to continue their skulk to Crosshair's table without further troubles, Tech wiping the mess off of his armor, but the trio of regs finally realized SAC-1's presence as she attempted to follow the Bad Batch, while passing giving an astute glance up to the clone who did this mean thing to Tech.

With a smirk he held out an arm to stop her, and his honeyed tone that made her feel uncomfortable. "Well well well, if it isn't the new recruit everyone's talking about - I must say, you're hotter than the flames on Mustafar."

Clueless SAC-1 didn't quite understand pick up lines yet, her voice flat reciting, "That's impossible - the average human body temperature is between 97.7-98.6° Fahrenheit and Mustafar is full of lava which can reach a temperature of 2,000° Fahrenheit."

The regs smirk faltered.

Stopping, her squadron experienced severe second-hand embarrassment.

SAC-1 glanced between the two groups. "What?" She wondered innocently with a shrug.

"I - I wasn't saying that you were actually hotter than the planet, it was a... figure of speech." The reg felt weird explaining.

"Meaning?" SAC-1 again wondered innocently.

Scratching his chin, the reg chuckled awkwardly. "You're not very people smart yet, are you?"

The second reg snickered. "Of course she isn't - look who she's with! Any smart person wouldn't be hanging with the 'Sad Batch.'"

SAC-1's eyebrows snapped together, alarm bells going off. "They're called the BAD Batch."

She stood her ground when with that stupid smirk he stepped into her personal space bubble without her permission. "I know what I said."

'Then maybe you should retract that statement while you can still breathe.' SAC-1 tried communicating with a surly frown.

He didn't, instead reaching out and tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear despite her flinch against her will. 'Why is it when people touch me, it's only to harm me?' This gesture was supposed to be flirtatious, make her giggle like an idiot for catching the eye of such a stellar male specimen such as himself, oh but the Agent did not, only feeling that familiar burning sensation in her chest that wasn't pleasant at all. And it only got worse the more the idiot kept up this act.

"Little word of advice, sweetheart," His fingers brushed her soft, reddening cheek. "I wouldn't be hanging around the likes of them."

Her eyes narrowed, and she smacked his hand away which he didn't appreciate too much. "And why not?" Lofty SAC-1 asked, "They've been nothing but kind to me... well, except Crosshair."

The reg was frowning distastefully down upon her by now, dropping his twisted version of the 'nice guy' act. "Because unlike normal clones, they're not meant to be here - they're just mistakes."

She wasn't dumb enough to not know what an insult was, and those 'explosive tendencies' AZI warned her to suppress sparked to life. "'Mistakes?'" She sneered. "Unlike 'normal' clones, Clone Force 99 has a 100% success rate on missions!"

"Yeah, well they also have a 100% success rate on being freaks of nature."

SAC-1 now understood why Wrecker seemed to want to pummel these guys. Her face contorting in anger, she flung her tray to the ground. "That's it!" She launched herself at the unsuspecting man and tackled him to the ground with such strength that surprised him.

"Agent!" Hunter exclaimed, springing into action.

"I don't appreciate you insulting my new squad!" SAC-1 shouted, pinning the dazed regs shoulders to the ground with her knees and raised her fist for a sucker punch.

But before her fist connected with his face a set of arms enclosed around her and yanked SAC-1 off of him. "Oh no you don't, girly!" The first clone protested.

Survival instincts kicked in, and SAC-1 rammed her head backwards into the clones' face, his nose gave a sickening CRUNCH! making him cry out and release. Freed, SAC-1 hurled him several feet away at a pillar, the sharp impact knocking him out instantly, crumpling to the ground.

SAC-1 whipped around at the two remaining clones. "Any more insults about my squad?!" She taunted.

They threw up their hands in surrender, then scurried to their brother to honestly see if he was still breathing.

SAC-1 glared at anyone who dared look at her in the wrong way.

Without permission another hand was laid on her, her shoulder from behind.

She went to throw another punch but the person expected it and caught her fist. "Easy, soldier." Hunter said out of habit, fighting a wince, and released her hand when her fearful regret replaced that anger. "Why don't you go get a new tray?" He suggested tersely.

Still breathing heavily, SAC-1 stuttered a bit before getting out, "I think I'll just go to my assigned quarters before I break some more bones, if that's alright with you, sir? "

Hunter nodded once. "I think that'd be best."

So she stalked off, barely able to keep her head held high when a terrible thought came to mind: 'What if the mistress finds about this?'

Her blood ran cold.

Chapter Text

(DAY 1 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

On a mission, Hunter, Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair marched into Landing Bay One-Tac-One.

Hearing the clunk of their boots Nala Se turned away from her assistant and immediately asked, "Where is SAC-1?" Not wanting such an expensive investment to be lost by these careless commandos.

"She's meeting us here." Hunter informed her without saluting, no needing to put on a show with the lack of the Prime Minister. "But we'd like to discuss the situation at hand before she arrives." Nala Se's frown deepened, but he plowed on anyway, "We don't need or want a new squad member - she's never seen a real battle, so how can she be of any use to us?" He crossed his arms in finality, "We'll be forced to hold her hands. We have enough to do already, the extreme conditions during these suicide missions require our full attention, and having to keep a close eye on her at all times could result in a causality, or even a fatality." None of which they were willing to risk for an outsider.

"Your squad was chosen because you are the only ones who can complete SAC-1's training." Nala Se countered unsympathetically.

"'Complete her training?'" Crosshair repeated in disgust. "We're not babysitters."

"SAC-1's enhancements will require expert training to hone them fully, which we cannot provide for her. In order to become the exceptional soldier she was created to be, she needs to see first-hand how to use her capabilities in a real battle setting. Your squadron had to learn on your own how to perfect your enhancements, so I naturally assumed you would not wish that on SAC-1."

Her tone full of rebuke, Hunter mentally reverted back to their cadet days and almost gave in right on the spot, to protect his family from possible repercussions. But he was no longer a helpless child, he was a strong, grown leader now, who wouldn't back down to unfair treatment.

"Hunter, I do think we should reconsider." Tech chimed in though, the only one in the group disagreeing with this. "SAC-1 may be a shiny, but I am confident she is fully capable of being a great soldier. All the signs are there."

Hunter turned to pin him with a stern frown, though his eyes had a touch of sympathy in them. "I understand you like the fact that she's brainy like you, but what Crosshair said is true."

"SAC-1 will require little guidance." Hard eyes sliding shut, Hunter slowly directed a more sincere frown back up at Nala Se. "Once the Agent sees the skills she was created with in a realistic battle setting, she will be self-sufficient and a fine asset to your team."

Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker hesitated to respond, the latter two sending unconvinced Sarge expectant glances.

Seeing he was not still fully convinced, Nala Se had to resort to a bribe instead of a veiled threat, because what it boiled down to be was the Agent did need to complete her training, and Clone Force 99 were the only ones who could do so. She calmly folded her hands. "Let us negotiate a deal."

Hunter... started to see that their usual defiance wasn't going to be allowed this time. "I'm listening." He gruffly conceded. 'Might as well get something out of this cruddy situation, I s'pose.'

"Take SAC-1 on one mission."

'Not a very good start to the "negotiations."'

"Show the Agent how to use her skills in a real battle. If she does well, she will stay with you." A questioning brow shot up, a silent ask from Hunter to hear the flipside. "But if she fails, then you will return her to Kamino." He squinted suspiciously. "You will walk away with no blame for her failure," Nala Se promised, "And we will scrounge up an alternative way to train her."

Taking her on one mission would seem a trivial feat, but the missions given to the Bad Batch were the deadliest of them all, ones that regs even with their big and bad Jedi Generals and Commanders couldn't complete without their help. It was a huge risk, and Hunter didn't want to lose any of his brothers.

Not wanting to shoulder the burden of such a heavy decision he had no clue how to make, Hunter took it to a vote.

Tech fervently bobbed his head in agreement, which was no surprise.

After a beat Wrecker shrugged undecidedly, mumbling a very unhelpful 'I dunno.'

So Crosshair was left to break the tie and, after an excruciating moment, ended up reluctantly nodding in agreement to the deal. If anything, the Sniper would make sure the lab scrabber knew her place.

Returning the nod, Hunter turned back to Nala Se with reluctant concurrence. "Alright - we accept the deal."

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SAC-1 didn't sleep a wink the night before, partially because of being surrounded by unfamiliar things, sounds, and smells, but mostly because she expected the Chief Medical Scientist to burst in at any moment and drag her away to her execution for the terrible outburst in the mess hall. All night words of self-rebuke at her inability to keep her temper in check whirled around her tired head, and by the time she realized that she was not in any danger, the lights flicked on and an alarm sounded in her personal barrack.

It was morning and she had her very first assignment: finding Landing Bay One-Tac-One. No one previously gave her directions to said landing bay, so a whole sixty minutes late SAC-1 scurried into the correct area, out of breath and out of courage.

With a bowed head she approached Nala Se, who was typing on her datapad, but hopefully the Agent's perfect vision didn't fail her when upon first glance the Doctor didn't look peeved at her. Her new squadron sitting on some crates nearby were the ones with annoyed frowns on their faces.

The Agents cheeks were tinted pink in embarrassment and exertion. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got lost and had to ask for directions!" She had walked to the whole opposite end of the city by accident, then ran all the way back it to get to this bay a mere HALLWAY away from her barracks! How embarrassing!

His eyes widening, Wrecker rubbed the base of his warm neck in shame. "Oh... we probably shoulda gone and picked 'er up." He stated to Hunter.

"Oh no no, it's fine!" She quickly reassured him. "Other troopers were more than happy to assist me!" SAC-1 paused, lips pursing confusedly. "In fact, a fight broke out when they disagreed on who would escort me so, I refused an escort before it got too bloody and just begged for directions."

'Boy is she innocent.' All the guys thought with an internal grimace.

Without a scathing comment, Nala Se merely set aside the datapad and said on the subject: "Let us discuss the new arrangements for the squad."

Raising from their respective seats, a simultaneous sigh was moodily given by the Bad Batch boys while SAC-1 just kept on smiling broadly.

A large starship, roughly the size of three or four Havoc Marauders welded together, that was the ship Nala Se led them too and at first they just thought this was a sick and twisted joke on the long-necks part. "It has been decided that Clone Force 99 needs a new ship to accommodate its increase in size." Nala Se confirmed though, arms regally folded behind her back, "There was barely enough space for the squadron to begin with, and there is definitely not enough space for SAC-1 now."

Not quite sinking in yet that they had to say goodbye to the hunk of junk known as the Havoc Marauder, Wrecker pumped a fist, "A new ship?! Alright!"

"Is this a Kappa-class shuttle?" SAC-1 asked with squinted eyes as they approached the large, shiny, brand-spankin' new ship.

Tech raised his signature pointer finger. "No it isn't, it is too small, and they do not have rotating cannons."

"This is a Kappa-class shuttle, but it has been cut down in size for improved aerial assault and modified to have a rotating cannon for defense in addition to the front and rear guns." Nala Se explained.

Giving a short laugh, SAC-1 playfully nudged Tech's arm with her shoulder. "Told ya."

Instead of being annoyed that she knew what the ship model was before him, Tech was exceedingly pleased that there was someone else in the group that shared in his brilliancy. Would be a breath of fresh air, not having to explain obvious things to EVERYONE. Perhaps he'd finally have a decent shot at some intelligent conversation around here!

"This ship has a captain's quarters with its own refresher, four sets of bunks, a communal area, a dining area, a large work desk, a medical bay, a storage facility, and a computer system room between the spare refresher and the kitchenette." Nala Se baited them as they all walked up the smaller entry ramp, located in the interconnecting hallway between the common area and cockpit.

"I actually get my own room?!" Wrecker gasped excitedly, "Whoo, I'M IN!"

"Oh goody - Wrecker can do math." Was Crosshair's sarcastic response.

On the left wall was a storage area where rations and water and maintenance items of every variety would be stored, then the refresher and kitchen, computer room and medical bay, and to the right of them were the four small rooms that were simple and contained a bunk, a tall metal locker and a dresser made of the same material.

The captain's quarters were more elaborate. It had an actual bed, a large dresser on its one side for storing things and a slightly smaller one on the adjacent wall, an intricate desk on the opposite wall by the door, a tall wide wardrobe to hang clothes in by the bed, its own refresher with tons of cabinet space and a noticeably bigger shower, and plenty of room to add more things as long as they were bolted down.

In front of them was the common area where there was a large Holo-entertainment table with a HUGE red lounge around it, an actual dining table (black) with seats around it (white), and a big workbench with sizeable cabinets above against the wall of the bunks. Everything was colored to their squads' preferences.

There was a large space at the back of the ship. "A sizable cargo area, where equipment for your missions can be stored."

Enviously frowning regs were loading up crate after crate of equipment then the Bad Batch knew what to do with.

Scanning the large area with his eyes gleaming at the possibilities, Tech happily stated, "With such sufficient space, we will have to dock at reg bases much less frequently!"

Wrecker was exuberant for other, rather questionable reasons. "And we can have more EXPLOSIVES! YEAH!"

Power packs, regular bombs, smoke bombs, an assortment of basic blasters, rifles, and vibros - they would be set for weeks! The storage area they'd visited had shelves upon shelves of rations already. In fact, except to frequently replenish their freshwater supply, Tech was already calculating that they could go MONTHS without having to actually dock at a reg base, even more time if they found a freshwater supply on whatever territory they helped liberate. 

Nala Se pressed the access button, and they entered the living area of the ship with her sealing the deal with the final perk: "You will also be given 74-Z speeder bikes, and unlike the Omicron Shuttle, there is room to customize." Nala Se pointed out as they entered the cockpit, which had six seats instead of four.

Hunter's eyes widened in bafflement at the pure fanciness of it all this and all the technology available just in here, and glancing back in the direction of the cargo hold he saw she was not lying - five sulking regs were hauling in five bikes.

'Why are we getting all this special treatment all of a sudden?!'

Tech immediately sat down in the captain's seat, SAC-1 took the co-pilot's, and the two of them gushed about features of the ship, making the rest of the squad's heads spin with all the technology mumbo jumbo talk.

Hunter picked up Nala Se beckoning for the rest to follow her back to the common area, letting the brainiacs bask in the glory because it meant one less lesson to get out of the way for the Clone Agent.

Once the door closed them off, here is where that expected veiled threat came from Nala Se, "This ship is only yours if SAC-1 remains with you, so I suggest you factor in the comfort of your squad when you make the final decision on whether or not she stays." With those parting words, she left them to their own devices.

From where he stood in the middle of the extravagant living area that even had a kriffing holotable and sleek couches, Hunter surveyed this new, unfamiliar territory with an unreadable expression.

Making himself right at home, Wrecker perched his helmet on the holo-table's edge and plopped down on the cozy lounge with a happy sigh. "Maybe havin' her with us isn't so bad!" Clasping his hands behind his head and leaning backwards into the cushiony seat, Wrecker sighed contentedly. "Yeahhhhh, I could get used to this."

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Wrecker had to physically haul Tech and SAC-1 from the cockpit of the new ship while Hunter told them that they needed to help move stuff from the Havoc Marauder to the Havoc Marauder II - Wrecker's brilliant name for the bigger shuttle. 🤦🏻

When entering their old ship, a foul stench burned SAC-1's nostrils. "Ugh!" Waving her hand in front of her scrunched nose, she demanded, "What's that smell?!"

Stepping around her, Tech flatly said. "You are smelling two years' worth of no cleaning."

Horrified, SAC-1 held back vomit with all the trash that littered the floor, and the layer of grime all over the walls, and dirty clothing of all kinds lazily draped over anything and everything instead of contained in a toxic waste container.

"Problem?" Crosshair growled down into her ear, then stepped around.

Flinching back into her usual, downplaying self, laughing nervously, "No problem here!" SAC-1 took her first big, brave step into the ship... and already had to avoid some suspicious - and fuzzy?! - liquid on the ground. "Just uh, counting off the various health code violations!"

"If you have a problem, you can leave." Crosshair suggested without a hint of compassion and a dismissive shrug. "No one here is going to stop you."

Her eyes briefly narrowed into a squint, then a broad smile plastered onto her face. "Nope, no problem here!"

His frown deepened into a scowl, and Crosshair stomped away to the other end of the ship where the bunks were.

Her faux smile dropped as soon as he was out of sight, and with a gag SAC-1 shoved her helmet on. "Thank the maker for the filters in my helmet." She muttered to herself with that distorted voice. 

By the computer, Wrecker coughed awkwardly. "Uh, you might wanna avoid the bunks and 'fresher."

With her helmet on, they couldn't tell that the color drained from SAC-1's face, but Hunter could sense her unease. This was the first instance of Hunter showing a hint of kindness towards her, who he directed to the three crates in the corner. "Why don't you unload our extra weapons? They're the cleanest things on board."

"That's not saying much, Sergeant."

His lips curled downwards. 

She threw her hands up and added, "I'll do it!" And shuffled around more garbage to reach the crates. "But you should probably know that for the four years I've been alive, a sterile lab was my home so I'm not used to living in such -" She picked up a half-eaten - and moldy?! - space waffle off one of the crates and shivered, tossing it aside so she could wipe the filth off her gloved hand. "HAZARDOUS conditions."

"The condition of the ship is messy, not hazardous." Tech corrected. "You will be fine."

"Uh, won't those crates be too heavy for ya?" Wrecker asked, momentarily forgetting that she was an enhanced clone.

Despite the circumstances, SAC-1 couldn't help but scoff. "Too heavy?" Effortlessly, she heaved the top crate onto her shoulder, holding it up with only one arm. "This is child's play."

Wrecker' s eyebrows shot up in surprise, then he grinned. "Hey, now I got someone to arm wrestle with!" He pumped a fist in the air, as he turned around and wandered to the bunks. "YEAH!"

"Who'd you bet your creds on?" Hunter wryly asked Tech, who was downloading stored information from their giant computer system to transfer to their new computer.

"I will need to collect more data before I can decide." Was Tech's technical reply, making Hunter chuckle.

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After they stripped the ship and said goodbye-

-mostly Wrecker, who shed a few tears-

-the original Bad Batch members decided that since they were actually going to have rooms, extra stuff could be taken from their barracks, like prized nic nacs and extra clothing and even some furniture.

To her dismay when Hunter unlocked the door, an even fouler stench slapped SAC-1 across the face. "I can't believe it, but the smell is worse here than on the old ship!" She whimpered, swiftly put on her helmet again before venturing into the toxic wasteland. "You four aren't allowed in my room on the new ship - it will be my safe haven of cleanliness!"

"How will I bear it?" Crosshair leered, stalking past her and making sure to bump her out of the way.

"... You don't like me." She finally said outright. Since meeting Crosshair, SAC-1 had learned that a laugh or chuckle could also mean mockery or ridicule as opposed to amused.

When he stooped down to pick up his footlocker and gave one of those mean chuckles, it wounded her already fragile heart. "Took you long enough to figure that out."

And that was like a full-on stab. "Why?" She wondered quietly with droopy eyes. "I don't think I've done anything to you."

"And I thought you were supposed to be smart." Crosshair threw back, twisting down the blade further into her heart.

Across the room, another strike of kindness hit the Sergeant. "Knock it off Crosshair." The Sniper rolled his eyes dramatically but obeyed.

Hunter snapped his finger towards a pyramid of what looked like garbage. "Agent, grab the ready containers by the door and put them on the carrier."

Nodding, SAC-1 faced the disgusting fate of pushing off piled trash and trays, holding back vomit. Amidst the junk she did find some grimy crates... and a red, white and black tooka doll. "Anyone lose a toy?" She asked, waving the stuffed animal in the air.

Wrecker gasped. "Lula!" He rushed up and plucked the doll out of her hands, hugging it tightly. "I've been lookin' everywhere for 'er!"

SAC-1 tilted her head thoughtfully. "You still have your old toys?"

"Just Lula." Wrecker grinned, "She was my favorite."

'It wasn't illegal, then? Keeping stuffed toys from your childhood that brought you comfort?' This revelation brought back her smile, though Wrecker couldn't see it. "That's sweet. Nala Se took away all my toys and unnecessary items, but I managed to hide my favorite one from her." She lifted the crate in a similar fashion as on the old ship. "It's a Loth-wolf, and if you promise not to tell Nala Se, I'll show her to you!" That was her immediate reasoning, anyway, when SAC-1 found the doll stashed in her crates... the last few days have been really fuzzy.

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After they retrieved SAC-1's meager stash of items - several crates filled with necessities, weapons and training weapons - they returned to the new ship and there came the discussion on who would get the large captain's quarters.

It was a very loud discussion.

"I'm a big guy, so I should get it!" Wrecker insisted.

"I possess the most items, so it makes the most sense that I should get the room!" Was Tech's counterattack. "Plus, I am the CAPTAIN of this starship!"

"I need a place big enough to practice my sharp shooting!" Crosshair argued.

"HUNTER!" They shouted simultaneously.

Trying to message away his festering migraine, the Sarge turned sharply at amused SAC-1 next to him. "What's your argument?" With the edge in his tone, he was obviously expecting her to act as immature as his brothers.

All sharp eyes were on her now, and she huffed nervously. "Ummmm..." Eyes lighting up, an idea came to her, and she graciously gestured towards the Sergeant, "Honestly, doesn't it make more sense that the LEADER of this squad should get the captain's quarters?"

It took a moment to process her chivalry, then eyebrows snapping down he hmphed, "You know what, just for that selfless attitude, I am making a unilateral decision and say that SAC-1 gets the captain's quarters."

The rest of the squad's mouths fell to the floor. Hunter picked up his footlocker and shuffled into the room next to the captain's quarters, claiming that one as his own because it just so happened to be six square inches longer in width and length. Yes, Tech had measured for arguments sake, and for what he had to put up with daily, heck yeah Hunter felt he deserved a bigger room.

As soon as Hunter was out of the room though, SAC-1's fake slackened jaw lifted into a mischievous grin, which didn't go unnoticed by the rest of them. Like Tech did, she held up an authoritative finger. "Now THAT'S how it's done, boys." And picking up the crate of gear, SAC-1 sashayed into her new, luxurious room.

Crosshair growled, Wrecker groaned, and Tech merely crossed his arms, admiration softening his facial features.

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The Bad Batch boarded their new ship to leave the lovely homeworld behind. 'Except in a sick twist of fate, this time we're leaving with the problem,' Crosshair dourly noted.

But someone called out for SAC-1, and upon turning everyone was flabbergasted at seeing the graceful figure of Nala Se approach them.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?" SAC-1 asked, scurrying back down the ramp to meet her, heart threatening to pound out of her chest.

"There is something I need to discuss with you before you leave." Nala Se explained, then gestured for her to follow. "Privately."

SAC-1 felt her stomach churn, but with a back-handed gesture for her squad to go and start the preparations she followed the Doctor, successfully hiding her fear from everyone but the very first clone ever with enhanced senses who remained atop the ramp, skull-tattooed face scrunched suspiciously.

Nala Se led SAC-1 to a pile of crates a few yards away from the ship, turned, and focused her intimidating black abyss for eyes on the quivering-in-her-boot's female clone. "Clone Force 99 do not believe you are capable of assisting them on missions." She disclosed bluntly.

SAC-1 felt her weak heart sink, her face falling with it. She knew the one called Crosshair wasn't happy, but Nala Se said that the WHOLE squad wasn't. 'Even Tech? But he's so enthusiastic when interacting to me.'

"I have had to talk you up a great deal to get them to agree to take you on, and it still was not enough for them to accept you."

SAC-1 furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding one thing. "But... if I'm not accepted, why am I going with them now?"

"I have struck a deal with them." SAC-1's eyebrows rose. "They are taking you on one mission - if you succeed, you will be staying on the squad with no more complaints, but if you fail, you will be returned to Kamino." SAC-1 couldn't believe what she was hearing, but Nala Se wasn't finished. "We have invested a lot of time and money on you, SAC-1: Do not make us regret it." With a gulp SAC-1 was forced to hear one last threat, a souvenir to take along to her new assignment and no doubt long beyond that. Folding her arms behind her back, Nala Se finished with, "If you are returned to Kamino, we will be forced to rethink your usefulness to the army - I heard about your escapade in the mess hall so I warn you, you are already on thin ice. So, think carefully the next time you feel indignant, and make the wise decision to stay in line."

Those were Nala Se's biting words of goodbye, leaving the female clone in a dazed and terrified state. 'The whole squad didn't want me? I'm being tested?! And if I fail, my fate is sealed - it doesn't take a genius to know what Nala Se means.' SAC-1 felt the immense weight of what was at stake here settle on her shoulders, her chest, and the shaky breath let out did nothing to ease it. In one moment, her entire confidence in her new squad and her importance to the Grand Army of the Republic was taken away from her, which was unfortunate in itself, but what was even more sad was that she'd only had both for less than a day.

Squeezing her eyes shut SAC-1 jerked her head. 'No, I won't fail! I've trained for this my whole life - I'll show them I was worth the sacrifice!' It was a pitiful pep talk, but with her head held high SAC-1 proceeded back to the ship.

She found Hunter on the top of the ramp, probably watching the whole interaction between her and Nala Se. "Is there a problem?" He asked with... concern?

'Yes.' SAC-1 responded in her mind. 'You all don't want me.' But her verbal response was a simple, "Nope." Though her demeanor was now guarded instead of bubbly.

Hunter's squinted eyes revealed his disbelief in her response, so she avoided his gaze entirely so he wouldn't see the distrust, betrayal and fear in hers and wandered to the cockpit.

Tech looked back upon her entrance with a smile. "Agent, Wrecker has allowed you to be the new copilot so you can learn how to fly."

"More like he kicked me out." Wrecker muttered, pouting in the seat behind the copilots.

SAC-1 felt bad that Tech kicked Wrecker out of his designated spot, but on the other hand she knew she needed to learn this skill in addition to everything else to prove her worth, so she pushed aside her uncomfortable feelings and took her designated spot as co-pilot. SAC-1 could sense Hunter's piercing gaze on her, but she focused all her energy on watching Tech fire up then fly the ship, and soon they cleared the atmosphere and were in space.

The trillions upon trillions of stars marveled her, and she temporarily forgot her insecurities and that bright smile made a reappearence.

Chapter Text

(DAY 2 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Entering hyperspace, the tension present since creation left SAC-1's shoulders because finally, FINALLY lightyears were being put between her and the Chief Medical Scientist.

But she had to prove herself as an exceptional soldier to keep it that way. Swerving her seat SAC-1 faced the rest of the Bad Batch with determination. "What's our next mission?"

Occupying the chair next to Wrecker with his arms crossed, Hunter stared at her impassively for a moment, as if he was trying to see past the facade he knew she was putting up. But unable to break through, he merely half-shrugged. "Don't know yet. We were on leave for a few days, and it usually takes a day or two after we're back on the clock before we get another mission."

Sitting behind him with a toothpick between his clenched teeth, Crosshair leaned back in his chair and mimicked Hunter's posture. "Because of those gaps, we rarely take a leave of absence." His suggestive tone that revealed to SAC-1 that he was assuming she'd throw a hissy fit about the lack of real breaks.

To his frustration, the corners of her lips lifted. "Good to know that I'll never be bored." Crosshair hid his dumbfounded reaction behind a bored hum, deciding to rest his eyes for a moment. "But why will it take a few days to get a mission?" SAC-1 asked Hunter specifically, "Don't we just have to report to our commanding officer, and he'll give us one?"

"We're different from regular squadrons of Clone Troopers - we don't report to anyone."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Then, how do you receive your assignments?"

"Just because we don't report to anyone, that doesn't mean we don't communicate with others in the army. If someone has a mission his regular troops can't handle, they call us."

"So your missions come at random, without warning or any form of organization?"

Hunter gave a curt nod, growing annoyed that he had to explain every. Painstaking. Detail. And had a hunch that the next mission, whatever it was, would end badly.

SAC-1's cheeks puffed out with a baffled exhale. "Wow. Mistress Nala Se did say you guys were different, and I guess she wasn't kidding because this goes against everything I was taught about being a soldier." Then she shrugged to dismiss her pessimistic tone. "But, you guys haven't failed a single mission, so it works."

"We get the job done." Wrecker said with a confident thumbs up.

"I'm relieved we won't be getting a mission right away." Tech chimed in, turning his seat. "It will give me some time to learn the specs of this ship before we engage in combat."

"We'll learn together, right?" SAC-1 asked hopefully. "I respect that you're the designated pilot to Clone Force 99, and the others know how to fly as well, but I'm looking to learn more about the aerial combat variety - might come in handy one day!"

"I have set the navicomputer to the remote planet of Dantooine, and there we can safely test your pilot skills in addition to trying out our new weapons system." He confirmed.

And normally, SAC-1 would have jumped for joy - she was going to learn how to pilot a ship! - but Nala Se's words echoed in her mind so remained calm and guarded and in control of her emotions, just giving a muted smile to Tech, kinda now thinking that he was just being nice to her because of orders.

It was in this instant Tech noticed her lack of enthusiasm, and with his brilliant mind deduced that it had to do with her short conversation with Nala Se. He made a mental note to figure that out later; right now, he had to familiarize himself with the ship.

Per his original comment, Wrecker leaned forward excitedly. "You mean I get to shoot stuff up with our new cannon?!"

"That is what trying out our weapons system means, yes." Tech remarked dryly, getting up. "I'm going to utilize our new automatic brewer and have a cup of caf, would anyone else like one?"

"Oh oh, me!" Man, Wrecker loved the lap of luxury they were living in now!

"Sure." Hunter and Crosshair said simultaneously, more weirded out by all the luxury.

"Agent?" Tech asked.

"What's caf?" She wondered.

The boys would have to get used to SAC-1 being a sheltered clone like they were a year ago, and did not know what basic normal life things were like they did in the beginning. This would spare her a lot of embarrassment when they blinked at her and shared what she perceived as judgy looks when they were just surprised, that's all. It's just, when they looked at her, they didn't think 'clone' they just saw someone who looked like someone who belonged to the real galaxy.

"It's a caffeinated beverage that is generally served hot, sometimes with cream and sugar depending on your preferences." Tech explained, and asked if she'd like to try it.

"... Sure. Why not?"

Following them all out into the common area, Wrecker asked incredulously, "Ya never had caf before?" And kindly let her slide into the right booth first.

"I've never had caf or even real sugar." She said while scooting.

He settled down next to her. "Why?"

Hunter and Crosshair scooted onto the bench at other end of the table. Tech searched for the caf beans in the cabinets, but all intently listened to her explanation because even the Kaminoans served real food in the mess hall. "I had a specialized diet that only allowed me to consume things that would aid in my intense training regiment, so things like caf or sugary confections were out of the question - ration bars held all the nutrients I needed."

SAC-1 of course never complained how she hated the bland, oddly textured foods, forcing herself to choke it down three times a day so as not to anger her guardian, otherwise she'd - 'No, I shouldn't think about it. I'll just get riled up.'

"Oh." Wrecker uttered, a little uneasy and she snapped out of her wandering state of mind. "So, we shouldn't be giving ya caf then?"

"Well, considering it was never mentioned in the arrangements and I was allowed to eat in the cafeteria with the rest of the clones, I assume I'm allowed to eat whatever I want now... within reason."

Wrecker nodded slowly, then perked up. "Hey Hunter, since we have a kitchen does that mean that we can eat whatever we want now too?"

He wryly smirked back. "That depends: who's going to cook?"

*crickets*

By now Tech had finally found the ground caf bean container and made a mental note to organize the cabinets in a more intuitive way.

A new pleasant scent reached SAC-1's nostrils and she took in a deep breath with a serene look on her face. "That smells HEAVENLY." She declared wistfully, and Wrecker smiled approvingly. Tech set down a tray with five mugs of caf, a tin of sugar, and a cream jug onto the table. SAC-1 snatched a mug and excitedly took her very first sip, only for her eyes to widen, and she gagged at its bitter taste. "BLECH! If only it tasted as good as it smelled!" She lamented.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that caf is also very bitter." Tech pointed out two seconds too late.

Wrecker was shoveling spoonful after spoonful of sugar into his mug like a mad man and kindly did so with her mug. "Try it with this!"

She tentatively took another sip and licked her lips after. "Definitely... better."

"Here." Tech said from his spot next to Crosshair, handing her the creamer across the table.

Swiftly adding a splash of creamer she tried it again, and nodded in satisfaction. "Now it's actually drinkable."

But about thirty minutes after SAC-1 finished her mug of caf, strange things started happening to her. Heart was palpitating, tremors through her body, highly agitated, senses were heightened more than they already were - she swore she could taste colors and see sounds - it all alarmed her until Tech explained that's what caffeine could do... But not with such a little amount. When she began nervously pacing the common area, muttering nonsense then giggling uncontrollably over whatever she said, it was decided that it would be best if she didn't have caf regularly because she apparently could not metabolize caffeine too well, though Crosshair voted that they give it to her every day! Tech allowed her to pace which would release the pent-up energy and gave her water so she wouldn't dehydrate. Meanwhile Crosshair watched the whole scene with a shit-eating grin on his face, and at one point asked Tech if he could put this on a holodisk so he could watch this scene over and over and over again.

Tech unfortunately said no, much to his vast disappointment.

Then, after about five hours of this delirious - but comical - behavior, SAC-1 collapsed onto the floor in front of the workbench and conked out, completely dead to the world for three whole hours.

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SAC-1 groggily woke up and, upon realizing what had happened, felt her face heat up and turn crimson in severe embarrassment. But a pounding in her head that took all of her attention away from the things she had done under the influence of caffeine.

With a hand on her pulsating head, heavy eyelids and disheveled hair SAC-1 walked into the cockpit where everyone except Tech was sitting, waiting for the hyperdrive to signal that they had reached their destination.

"Have a nice sleep?" Crosshair goaded as she shuffled past him.

She shot him a piercing glare, which surprised everyone because she had appeared to be a friendly and bubbly kinda gal. "I'm not in the mood for your attitude right now." SAC-1 snapped, lowering herself into the copilot's chair with a heavy sigh, propping her elbows on her knees so she could clutch her head that weighed a thousand pounds in this moment. "I have a splitting headache."

Tech ambled into the cockpit at that moment with a metal water bottle and a painkiller capsule in hand. "I anticipated that." Kindly he handed her the contents before sitting in the pilot's chair, checking the navi-computer to see how much time left was estimated.

This whole incident made Hunter now know that their next mission would end badly. 'The woman can't even handle caf, how could she handle a real battle?' He felt a pit in his stomach and glanced up at SAC-1 with a mixture of annoyance and loathing.

Just as she swallowed the painkiller the hyperdrive panel beeped, signaling that they had reached their destination. Tech pushed the lever and they abruptly pulled out of hyperspace which gave SAC-1 a serious case of whiplash. Only ever seeing the thundering rains and tumultuous oceans of Kamino, wide-eyed SAC-1 was absolutely ENTHRALLED to see so much LAND on Dantooine!

Hunter noticed her slip back to her usual sunshiny self. 'What did Nala Se say to her?' He couldn't help but wonder in frustration, the Sergeant side of him not liking not knowing what was going on within his own squad. Though, he preferred serious over silly, because if she was serious, she maybe wouldn't screw things up.

Maybe.

Like she did on Kamino, SAC-1 watched Tech as closely as she could in her dazed state, filing away the piloting knowledge for when she started training. But once the ship groaned when it touch-downed onto the planet's surface SAC-1 flew from her seat. She impatiently hopped from one foot from another while the entry ramp lowered, and ran down the platform when it touched the surface. For the first time ever SAC-1 felt the sun kiss her skin. But oh, real dirt were under her boots, and instead of hurricane force winds threatening to knock her over, a gentle breeze just made the whisps of hair framing her face tickle her cheeks. The sweet yet sharp scent of warm grass was pleasant and refreshing, so unlike the nauseating antiseptic that the Kaminoan labs wreaked of. Pollen may have tickled her unadapted nose, caused an irritating itch to her throat, but a genuine smile made its way onto the womans face, despite the glare of the unobscured sun burning her eyes.

Her surroundings were eventually taken in with raging curiosity and awe. There were mostly rolling hills full of tall yellow and purple grass with a few short, thick trees and large rocks dotting the landscape here and there, and Tech had landed them near a shallow river, it's soft rushing water having a soothing element to her tingling body. The sun was setting, casting an enchanting orange glow over the landscape, two crescent moons replacing the dimming orb in the sky. To someone who had traveled all over the galaxy, Dantooine probably wouldn't be that impressive. But to sheltered SAC-1, it was AMAZING!

Her moment was ruined when a presence stepped up behind her, and she turned to see Hunter at the bottom of the ramp, and his frown revealed his disdain for her actions. Cheeks flushing again, SAC-1 realized that she'd once again had a comical reaction to a completely normal life thing, apparently. She should have tried to contain her bubbliness and kept her head about her, like a good soldier did. It was amazing how one conversation could make her go back to being so self-conscious about her actions. It was as if Nala Se was still standing above her.

Averting her gaze shamefully, SAC-1 tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear. "I've... I've never seen dry land before." She weakly laughed.

She missed the flash of softness but did here his 'hmph.' So in her mind, her Sergeant was thoroughly annoyed with her now, and it was going to take double the effort to earn his trust and respect.

"Why'd ya pick Dantooine, Tech?" Wrecker complained as the rest of them traipsed off the ramp. "It's so BORING here!"

"We needed a remote place to test our new cannon." Tech reminded him, not looking up from his datapad. "There are plenty of rock formations to use as targets out here."

Unsatisfied, snarling Wrecker kicked at the dirt. "Couldn't we use actual droids for targets?"

Tech adjusted his goggles so Wrecker would be sure to see his irritation. "Flying a new ship into battle without being familiar with the systems would not have been wise."

"We'll only be here a day, maybe two, Wrecker." Hunter assured him in that comforting, older brother tone to break up the tension.

"Promise?" Wrecker pouted.

"I promise you'll be knocking clanka heads before you know it."

SAC-1 couldn't help but ask, "'Clanker?'"

"Droids." Tech clarified.

"Oh."

"Can we eat now? I'm starvin'!" Wrecker begged.

"The Kaminoans provided us with different varieties of ration boxes." Tech informed them.

"Ration boxes? Those have the tasty bars!" Wrecker exclaimed. "Man, I'm lovin' this special treatment!"

"Why are we getting special treatment?" Crosshair voiced him and his more sensible brothers' thoughts, folding his arms.

To the surprise of everyone, SAC-1 actually laughed at their apparent cluelessness - it was nice to see it on someone else for a change! "You're joking, right?" They looked at her expectantly, so she pointed to herself. "It's because of me!" She disclosed this as of it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

It wasn't.

"What does you being with us have to do with it?" Crosshair questioned with a mistrustful squint.

"Isn't it obvious?" She was met with blank expressions. 'Apparently not.' Clearing her throat, she made a steeple with her hands and calmly explained in simple terms... Well, simple to HER anyways. "Alright, it takes 2,075 credits to make one clone commando with enhancements, not counting armor and gear. There were fifty-nine failed experiments before me - that's already 122,425 credits down the drain. Then because of my enhancements, I required special training, which adds thousands upon thousands of more credits on top of that to pay for equipment and trainers, and then if you factor in the cost of time, food, medical treatment -"

"What's your point?" Crosshair hissed, rubbing his temples at the migraine starting to form. 'Great, now there's chance these Tech-Talks could happen more frequently with TWO OF THEM.' Was his bitter realization.

Letting out a sharp breath of annoyance that flared her nostrils, SAC-1 tried simplifying her explanation even more than it already was in her eyes. "If you created a costly super soldier, wouldn't you want to make sure that your investment had everything needed to succeed such as sufficient nutrition, a good, safe place for proper rest and superior trainers to complete their training?"

The guys didn't know what to say to that and shifted on their feet, shooting each other looks that silently communicated they were weirded out.

'You did it again.' SAC-1 mentally rebuked herself. They jumped when she clapped her hands together. "You know something, I'm FAMISHED - let's eat!"

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"Ease up on the accelerator." Tech told SAC-1 in a remarkably calm tone... or was he so terrified that he could barely speak? SAC-1 didn't really know, but if she hadn't been too focused on flying she would have seen him clutching onto the armrests of his seat for dear life, knuckles white from the death grip.

Instead of listening SAC-1 pressed the accelerator further, the ship speeding low over the grassy savanna and scaring fowl out of their ground nests and other wild game from their dens. "But don't I need to know how to fly fast?" She pointed out, "What if we need to make a hasty escape?"

With a grunt Tech's whole body jolted, the ship lurching again when the bottom skimmed the top off a rock formation that she didn't apparently see. "If you were an advanced student I would say yes, but you are a beginner so no." Tech's eyes bugged out in fear and gritting his teeth a tall rock quickly approached them and he thought, in a moment of true terror, that he was about to meet his maker (if he was even real).

Huffing, SAC-1 barely avoided it, and Tech felt his heart leap into his throat at the narrow avoidance of death. "I'm hardly a beginner, I was taught the basics of flying before I could even sharpshoot."

"And yet you keep flying too low and scratching the bottom of the ship despite the sensor array being right in front of you." Again the ship violently lurched, several alarms going off. "SLOW DOWN!" He shrieked this time.

Groaning, SAC-1 yanked the tiller back and the g-force of the sudden speed change would've thrown Tech from his seat had he not been clutching onto his seat so tight. "So I may have hit a few bumps." She carelessly huffed, "What's the big deal?"

It took Tech a few seconds before he could speak, his heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest, as if he had just run a marathon! "The 'big deal' is that if you fly so poorly while in the middle of a combat situation, we will perish before the enemy has even landed a blast on us!"

SAC-1 scoffed, gently maneuvering the ship to avoid a tree. "Don't be so dramatic." This slow pace was highly BORING, too.

Blinking, Tech was put off with her attitude. "I am never dramatic, I only state scientific hypotheses based on the factual data presented to me."

"Well here's a fact: in order to learn how to fly fast -" Since there wasn't anything coming at them, SAC-1 briefly flitted her determined gaze to him. "I have to fly fast!"

'Again with the unusual attitude.' He noted. "When you have proven you can utilize the sensor array... among other things... then you may fly at a higher level of speed, but for now simply try to not hit the bottom of the ship." He pointed at the very helpful sensor screen. "Use this to watch out for ground obstacles, and avoid them."

Her nostrils flared. SAC-1 was still discontent. "Perhaps if you let me fly higher -?"

"You need to know how to avoid obstacles before I can even consider letting you fly in a higher atmosphere." So many things could go wrong, and they'd hurdle back towards the ground at a fatal speed!

"But if I fly higher, I won't need to avoid obstacles because there won't be any." She retorted.

A valid point, but Tech still squinted disapprovingly at her. "You seem keen on fighting every piece of instruction I give, implying that you know better than an experienced combat pilot when you have stated repeatedly beforehand that you only knew the basic specs of starships, but have never even left Kamino's atmosphere, never even been on an actual starship either, until you were transported to Tipoca City."

SAC-1 lips pressed together in a grim line, and she had decency enough to look embarrassed for her impropriety.

But for extra measure, Tech made sure to conclude with this straight fact. "If you cannot take constructive criticism well, you will never learn how to use your capabilities to the full extent possible, which is undoubtedly expected of you as it is with the rest of your team of enhanced clones."

Nala Se's words echoed in her mind, cold and unforgiving: 'If you are returned to Kamino, we will be forced to rethink your usefulness to the army.' SAC-1's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry."

Astutely looking to see if she was sincere... Tech was relieved to see she was. NOW since real progress could be made, AND his chances of returning back to camp in a body bag had greatly decreased.

Tapping her gloved thumbs against the steering, SAC-1 humbly continued, "I know that I have a lot to learn, and I should appreciate your willingness to even teach me, and take your orders with grace, like a good soldier." With frightened eyes, SAC-1 briefly glanced back at him. "I AM a good soldier, Tech." She said in a tone that mimicked someone pleading for mercy.

His eyebrows snapped together. "Of course you are - you were obviously designed to be an exceptional soldier. But you will benefit from additional guidance and a vast deal of patience, just as Nala Se predicts."

"Yes, but -" She jerked her head to clear it of the dark thoughts starting to cloud her mind, "Never mind."

More curious than ever, Tech adjusted his specs. "Experimental Unit: Clone Force 99 is known to be the squadron that doesn't follow orders, so you are already fitting in quite well, Agent." She still grimaced at this perceived slight on her behavior. "But oftentimes, directions from a mentor are necessary if you want to properly comprehend a new skill. If you wish to learn how to efficiently fly the ship through an aerial combat zone, you will need to follow my instructions and listen intently to my personal collection of offbeat tricks and stunts that have come in handy, or otherwise we will all be put in unnecessary danger at such a time you may need to take the pilot role on a mission - do you understand this now?"

First lesson grasped - SAC-1 FINALLY spared a glance at the sensor, saw an upcoming short rock appear on the screen. "Sir, yes sir." She said automatically, and managed to avoid it this time without giving Tech whiplash.

To which gave a small, proud smile. "Nicely done."

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(TWO HOURS LATER)

SAC-1 also managed to land their ship back at the base without hitting anyone or anything thanks to the sensor array - that nifty little feature turned out to be pretty useful!

When they disembarked the Marauder, Tech's brothers scurried away from their campfire with varying levels of worry written all over their faces, having witnessed the new girls erratic flying before the ship was cut out of sight by the hills.

"You okay, Tech?" Hunter asked rather openly, bruising SAC-1's feelings because she was right there.

But Tech brushed his concern aside, "'Agent' is a quick study and has shown promise, and with another lesson I would trust her to fly us beyond the protective atmosphere." SAC-1 smiled widely and proudly but Hunter was a tad unnerved at this suggestion. "Don't worry." Tech reassured him, pulling out his datapad to fiddle with. "She knows how a starship works, but had a problem with grasping the concept of patience, taking instruction, and multitasking. We reached an understanding, I found a way to effectively communicate my knowledge to her, and while she still has a tendency to unnecessarily jerk the ship, her flying has greatly improved."

After a quick one-sided staring contest since Tech's attention was glued to his datapad like always, Hunter's mistrustful eyes swept over to offended SAC-1 instead as he stepped back towards the campfire, "If you say so."

But it was Tech's turn to become uncomfortable once again with her flying when he turned and just happened to finally notice all the fresh scratches and dents on the bottom of their brand-spankin'-new ride. "MY SHIP!" He cried out, dramatically falling to his knees and lamenting at the ugly cosmetic damage with equally ugly sobs.

"You're in for it now." Hunter murmured in warning to the Clone Agent beginning to sweat through her blacks.

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Towards the evening, Wrecker's boredom was cured when an incoming communication sounded from the cockpit when they were all well on their way to dreamland. Everyone gathered, and Hunter answered, met a Clone Commander on the holoprojector.

"Commander Cody!" Wrecker happily greeted as he casually leaned against the back of Tech's captain's chair, making it creak under the pressure of his weight.

Hunter was seated in the copilot's chair with Crosshair behind it, so SAC-1 was forced to stand in the middle of the group and be conspicuous... But in truth, she was a little bit nervous to meet other regular clones due to what happened on Kamino, and wanted to postpone any unpleasantries.

SAC-1 failed to conceal herself in plain sight despite making herself as small as possible. This Commander Cody furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when he beheld the strange woman in the distinct clone trooper armor. "Who's she?" He wondered, though originally thought it was a newly promoted Jedi General assigned to work with them on a mission.

Hunter internally sighed. "She's a... new recruit." He stated simply, which did nothing to appease Cody's curiosity.

Tech divulged more information even though he was still not speaking to her. "SAC-1 is a new type of clone that the Kaminoans bred from a different genetic template than standard clones."

"She's a clone?" Cody asked incredulously.

"Yes, but she was created with enhanced senses, eyesight, strength and intelligence - all of our abilities combined."

This news visibly shook Cody to the core, yet he furrowed his eyebrows at her. "What does SAC stand for? I've never heard that designation before."

Stepping forward now and clasped her sweaty hands behind her back. "It stands for Special Agent Clone, sir. I'm not a regular clone trooper - I'm designed to go on any type of mission the regular troopers can't handle, hence the reason I'm with Clone Force 99, but I will eventually specialize in undercover missions."

Nodding slowly, Cody's brain seemed to short circuit, then before he could say anything more about her, Wrecker interjected. "Speaking of tha' - got another suicide mission for us, sir?"

Cody couldn't help but chuckle at his eagerness. "You're going to love this one - there's whispers of a Separatist plot to kidnap the Chancellor, so we need your help to infiltrate a Separatist base to recover a hologram that will tell us who's the mastermind behind all this."

Chapter Text

SAC-1 being placed with the Bad Batch brought more changes than the four original members knew how to keep up with, like a whole new ship. With like, a dozen rooms more than the original.

A cargo hold.

A common area.

A kitchen.

A computer room.

A whole other storage room.

A whole medbay.

A whole refresher.

A huge cockpit.

FIVE WHOLE ROOMS.

No big deal or difference, right?

...

It was a VERY big deal.

The boys didn't quite know how to handle having all their own rooms, specifically. All their cadet lives they'd shared barracks, and all throughout their soldier careers they had the tiny Marauder.

SAC-1 thought they'd be thrilled to have their own room a piece, which is why it came as a surprise when leaving the computer room for a glass of water, she found the four grown men not sleeping in their individual bunks, but each had all ended up back out here, making camp on the two L-shaped couches instead.

Wrecker took up one whole side of a couch on his own, and the too-small blanket from his bunk was draped over his abnormally massive body the best it could be. Sadly, the lower part of his long legs were exposed to the air-conditioned room, but he didn't seem to be cold, one arm being draped over the back of the couch and the fingertips of his other brushing the ice cold durasteel floor when his hold on the famed 'Lula' doll slackened.

Adjacent to Wrecker, seeing Tech with his back pressed against Crosshair's side stirred a foreign type of warmth in the Clone Agents chest. His goggles were uncomfortably lopsided as he used the silver haired soldiers' shoulder for a pillow and his mouth was ajar, emitting quiet snores. SAC-1 felt the word 'adorable' could accurately describe this set up of Tech being so comfortable with his standoffish comrade, who shockingly even used the arm the brainiac was gripping to keep him close.

And Crosshair, well, SAC-1 did want to laugh out loud when even asleep he still managed to have traces of that permanent grumpiness which kept the slight anger and stress lines on his forehead present, still frowning deeply despite being dead to the real world with his coma-like sleeping habits.

Tilting her head at the corner of the opposite couch from the rest, SAC-1 saw ever the protective leader, Sergeant Hunter, seemed to not allow himself to get too comfortable. In a sitting position with his arms crossed, he might have certainly LOOKED conked out with his eyes peacefully closed and his chin pressed against chest, but she'd soon find out he was a light sleeper like her.

He was completely aware and completely ready to fly from his seat and defend his brothers when she walked towards the sleeping duo, but Hunter stopped himself just in time. The Agent only gently lifted Tech's goggles off his squished face, shaking her head lightheartedly at the harsh red lines left behind.

Her next task was taking the small blanket from Wrecker and putting it over the curled-up form of Tech, Crosshair already having one draped over his legs.

Seeing her walk into her room, Hunter was confused as to why she'd deprive Wrecker, only to get an answer when SAC-1 came back out, and she had in tow the large comforter from her bigger bed.

And since Hunter already had a blanket and was semi-comfortable, she didn't have an unknown act of compassion for him, simply padding back into the computer room quietly as possible.

And he was left to stew over the fact that SAC-1 was making it very hard to loathe her very existence, the very reason why things had drastically changed in the first place.

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SAC-1's eyes burned from staring at the bright screen of the ship's computer... how many hours had she been in this dark room now? Three? Four? Wow, she'd lost track.

Sighing, the Agent tried rubbing away the tiredness and stinging in her eyes, feeling like her eyelids weighed ten thousand pounds when she could only manage a few blinks to get them to focus on her research again. But against her will, the huge paragraphs on the bright screen with line after line of tiny yellow words blurred away, her groggy head plopping against her palm.

Commander Cody informed them yesterday evening that Separatists had set up a large command center on Silva, a planet aligned with the Republic but being a peaceful existence had no military occupation whatsoever, and the base was guarded by three times more droids than usual, meaning that lots of information about the Separatists movements in that sector must be kept in there. Due to the clone army being spread thin, the Republic could only send a platoon of soldiers from the 212th, and they failed to infiltrate the base to see who was behind the plot to kidnap the Chancellor, losing most of the troopers.

So, Cody called them because the Bad Batch were more capable than an army, and he knew that they could get the job done. The operation to get inside the base would include Clone Force 99, Commander Cody, and three Jedi that the Order decided was needed to succeed. It would be a full-frontal assault to get inside the base and retrieve the information, then destroy the base after liberating the planet. They were meeting on a Jedi Cruiser at Coruscant, and would travel to Silva together.

SAC-1 didn't want to be at a disadvantage, being the new soldier and all, a ‘shiny’ as Crosshair crudely put it, so that's why on her first night with her new squad, she was up at 0300 and already in her blacks, researching the planet of Silva to get a feel as to what kind of environment she'd be fighting in. Not that she would've slept soundly anyways - she had new surroundings and smells and sounds and people to thank for that.

A person silently stepped into the computer room behind her-

"Did I wake you?" She asked softly, regretfully, turning her head slightly to acknowledge startled Hunter. "I thought I was being quiet enough."

Hunter forgot in his sleepy state that she had enhanced senses like him. "... I tend to sleep a lot lighter than normal people." He replied in the same quiet manner.

Silently wincing, SAC-1 shook her head at her own stupidity. "Right - enhanced senses... I forgot that you have it too. I'm sorry."

Becoming wary out of habit, Hunter crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam, squinting at the plethora of brightly colored charts and paragraphs on the large screen. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Research." Getting back to it, SAC-1 pressed a couple of keys to zoom in on the coordinates of where the Separatist base was in the southern hemisphere. "I want to know what to geographically expect on the mission so I'm not at too much of a disadvantage, and slow you all down."

"You'll slow us down if you're half asleep." He bluntly remarked.

Annoyance and loathing were something SAC-1 was very familiar with, and while wanting to shrink in on herself she forced herself to remain calm because she needed and wanted to prove him wrong, them ALL wrong - SAC-1 was a good decision on the Kaminoans part and she was a good soldier. "I've been trained to go long periods of time without sleep." Was her civil response to his 'concern,' and wanted to leave it at that so she could study a passage about a river that ran from the base to miles and miles into the surrounding woods.

But Hunter's harsh gaze burned holes in the back of her head. "A person can be trained all they want, but even one night without sleep still affects performance - we need you sharp on this mission, soldier."

Instead of shrinking back, that all too familiar temper sparked to life at this unfair treatment. "I'll be fine." She promised with her jaw tightening. "I've been designed to -"

"One thing that you'll learn being a real soldier is that war is unpredictable, and if you're given the opportunity to safely get some shut eye you should take it, 'specially trained' or not."

If Nala Se spoke to her like this, SAC-1 would've been halfway to her bunk by now with her tail between her legs, knowing she had deserved it for being incompetent yet again. But since these batch of rejects formed a negative opinion on her without any rhyme or reason, she sharply turned the chair. "I know my own limits, Sergeant." She firmly swore, because while the air quotations around 'special training' clearly communicated he thought nothing of it, Nala Se would not have approved her deployment if it was just that.

Her perceived defiance turned that spark of frustration in his into a forest fire. "And how can you possibly know your limits if you've never even BEEN on the battlefield?"

To this, SAC-1 didn't have a response, and she realized this was why the squadron wrote her off before giving her a real chance - she had never been on the literal war front like the rest of the best squadron in the Gar. ‘But they saw me with the simulations, right?’ She mentally pouted. ‘They saw how I aced them without breaking a sweat, right? Those are designed to emulate a real battle, so it was a highly probable solution that I'll succeed out there. Why can't they see that?’ But once again to show that she was a good soldier who took orders well, SAC-1 turned back to the screen and this time to backed out of her research tabs.

Before she was completely out of the room though, she craned her head up towards unsatisfied Hunter and gave him a piercing glower, a stark contrast to her overflowing bubbliness. "A small part of me wishes you and Crosshair hid your loathing for me better, like Tech and Wrecker have, but on the other hand it's a good thing to know where I stand with this squadron. And I will enjoy proving you all wrong about me." As usual, successfully hiding his emotions she didn't pick up on his surprise at her boldness, and with the lack of change in his hard expression she marched away saying a flat, "Goodnight, Sarge." Over her shoulder... Though sincerely hoped he actually DIDN'T have one because she was just that frustrated with him.

Door sliding shut behind her, SAC-1 surveyed all her unpacked crates with sullen features. She had been all excited to set everything up, but after that talk with Nala Se, she didn't feel the inclination to because a small part of her worried: ‘What if I DID fail this mission? Then I'd have to pack everything up again and leave with my tail between my legs as always.’

The crushing weight of being surrounded by people who didn't want her, and the importance of succeeding on Silva, it finally hit like a ton of bricks. Shakily exhaling, SAC-1 marched up to her bed and caught sight of the one thing she did unpack: her Loth-wolf doll. The disheartened clone picked up the stuffed toy, turned, and flopped onto her back on the bed, clutching the wolf to her chest, wishing for the comfort it always brought after such degrading confrontations with her superiors.

It did, but not by much.

SAC-1 HAD to succeed in this mission, and her mentors provided no tips or tricks because they wanted her to fail. So, it was all up to her, and her unfinished training ... ‘Man, I thought my lone-wolf days were over.’ Was her embittered thought, nudging her nose into the soft head of her comfort item.

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Due to the challenge lying at her feet, SAC-1 ended up not sleeping at all, though she was right in saying that it didn't affect her that much, so when the morning rays trickled in through the viewports, she marched into the common area with minimal grogginess.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness (and mortification on SAC-1's part) when the men forgot that they had an innocent living with them, emerging from their rooms in various forms of undress - Hunter was shirtless in his boxer shorts, as was Crosshair, Tech was just in his blacks which left nothing to the imagination, and Wrecker was just plain in his body glove bottoms.

To which after she gave a short, high-pitched shriek as her face turned crimson, they looked at her like she was crazy, then came to the realization that she was here, and they were-

Their wide-eyed gazes beheld their clothing... or lack of it rather. Even the body glove did not leave much to the imagination. 'KRIFF!' And other various curses were yelped and there was some shoving and elbowing and tripping as they tried to climb over each other to scurry back into their rooms and make themselves decent, those battle-hardened soldiers blushing so fiercely at this totally juvenile situation, wanting nothing more than to be swallowed by the floor at their own colossal mortification.

Wrecker immediately tried to diffuse the awkward moment after everyone was back in the common area, going to the storage closet to retrieve breakfast: two packs of rations for him and one each for the rest of the squad including SAC-1, which confused her. She sat at the edge of the tables lounge facing away from everyone as much as possible and silently nibbled on her rations, wholeheartedly believing that they all didn't want her to participate in the conversation, deciding for the sake of preventing any more unpleasantries that she wouldn't fake along with them anymore. It was taxing on her fragile mental state.

Tech noticed the firm frown on her face when she turned to grab a saltshaker nearby, and her unusual silence. Despite his vow of silence towards her for the state of his ship, he felt compelled to try to include her in the conversation several times... but she rejected his every effort. It was fake in her eyes, just like Nala Se and all those scientists were to the rest of the galaxy. So he left her be, confused as to why she wasn't her usual self, though perhaps it was because of them being INCIDENT five minutes ago.

Hunter merely ignored her, knowing that it was all in the air now and he didn't have to pretend to approve of her presence. Crosshair never pretended in the first place and easily ignored her too. And Wrecker was just too clueless to notice the tension in the room.

After breakfast, the squadron plus SAC-1 gathered into the cockpit because they were seconds away from arriving at Coruscant. She was going to hunker down in one of the very back seats to avoid interaction, but Tech had other plans for her.

He gestured to his chair and called out to her. "Take the pilot seat." She raised a brow at him, hand seizing the back of the chair when all judgy eyes were cast on her. "You will be taking the ship out of hyperspace and landing us on the cruiser."

SAC-1 secretly felt as uncertain as the others openly looked. "… I've only had two lessons."

"And you have shown great progress already, so I am confident that you can land the ship on a cruiser."

Praise, SAC-1 never got. 'Do not fail us,' that was the motivating speech the Kaminoans had bestowed upon her before every test of her progress.

He mistakened her silence and reserve for nerves and added. "I will be guiding you every step of the way, of course."

Almost a slight but not quite, she was just baffled he was helping her in the first place, when he didn't even want her there. But she rose to the challenge like she always did, and trudged up to the seat and Tech, as promised, uncharacteristically took the copilot's chair.

"Uh, Tech..." The intelligent clone turned questionably at the Sergeant. "I rarely question your actions, but are you sure this is such a good idea?"

Burning indignation sparking in her heart, out of spite SAC-1 promptly sat down in the pilot's chair. Greatly confusing her Tech began defending his student as she pressed various buttons and flipped several switches to prepare the ship to come out of hyperspace.

The hyperdrive panel beeped. "Coming up on Coruscant." She announced.

The men took their seats, she uneasily grabbed hold of the lever and pulling it gently like she'd seen Tech do once before, the streaked stars of hyperspace abruptly came to a halt. SAC-1's lips parted in awe, eyes flitting around to take in all the massive Republic Attack Cruisers seen through the viewport, around the vicinity of this city planets surrounding space highways. And the planet itself was a sight to behold, it's twinkling surface against a dark backdrop from up here looking like a it had been simply painted with a heaping helping of shimmering golden glitter. 

'THEY'RE HUGE! A ND THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM!' 

"Now," She blinked back into focus and Tech instructed, "We will be receiving a comm in three, two, one -" He pointed at the console. The comm beeped.

And SAC-1 let out a quick silent breath to steady herself before answering.

"Unidentified shuttle, state your business." A regular clone officers voice demanded.

"This is Clone Force 99 requesting permission to dock on the Negotiator." She pressed a sequence on the panel above her. "Transmitting clearance code now." Sucking in a sharp breath, she anxiously waited for the reply and hoped she said and did everything the right way, the back of her sweaty neck prickling from the potential of disappointing results everyone seemed to expect of her.

"Code confirmed."

SAC-1's cheeks puffed when she sighed in relief.

"You've been assigned to Bay Eleven.   Sending coordinates now."

"Thank you!"

"Uh... You're welcome."

Cheeks flushing, she quickly realized that what should've been said was 'Copy that,' so she clicked off the comm to spare him and her any more embarrassment, and glanced expectantly at proud Tech, awaiting further instruction. "Once we find the Jedi Cruiser, head towards the ventral hanger bay, which is located on the bow."

SAC-1 nodded, and when the coordinates came through she pressed on the accelerator.

Flying through space wasn't as nerve-wracking as she thought, but flying down into the cruiser then into designated bay was what was really hard. She had to slowly lower the starship into the hangar, then maneuver the repulsors perfectly to shimmy their way into their assigned space without hitting personnel or objects. When she managed to avoid hitting anything and the landing gear touch-downed, all the tension left her shoulders and she gave a small, proud smile to herself because she just flew through space and safely docked the ship all on her own! After only two lessons! 'This is something to be proud of, right?! I didn't fail!' 

By the looks of Tech's own smile, while a bit more muted, he was proud of her accomplishment too. And when he rose he patted her shoulder proudly. "Well done."

Odd coming from someone who didn't want her here, but with another shake of her head she dismissed this controversial thought so this odd warmth in her chest wouldn't be extinguished. It was nice, basking in the glow of a proud accomplishment.

After powering down the ship, SAC-1 swiped up her gear from the floor below on her way out, helmet tucked safely under her arm. She had to take long strides down the ramp to keep up with the others yet it was hard not to stutter her descent when her eyes were wide in awe and focused more on taking in the sights instead of where she stepped. 'It looks even bigger on the inside!' This massive Hangar alone had hundreds of ships, from star fighters to bombers to other shuttles. SAC-1 couldn't even fathom how beyond this Hangar, there was even MORE to see!

Commander Cody met them on the loud and bustling ground floor, everyone preparing for the journey to the Mid-Rim. Alongside him were three figures in long brown cloaks, hoods down. Two tall, fair-skinned human males and female orange hued Togruta. The older man had auburn hair and a kind smile softening his weathered from age features. The younger man had longer, curly brown hair and an air of determination surrounding him, and the young female Togruta's demeanor mirrored the young man exactly.

Part of SAC-1's flash learning included much of the Jedi culture, so she recognized them instantly. Her vibrosword technique greatly mimicked some of the great Jedi combat styles with their laser swords. One of the few things she couldn't understand though was their powers - 'the Force,' it was called. There wasn't very much information on it, but from what she could gather the Jedi had a special connection to the energies that bind the galaxy together. But how could an individual sense an energy field that was not supposed to be sensed by anyone? It scientifically made no sense.

So, SAC-1 drew the conclusion that the Jedi merely were another religion of magic welders like the Witches of Dathomir, but more prominent since they were granted positions in the GAR.

SAC-1 meekly remained behind her taller squad members when they reached the leaders of this mission, deciding that it would be respectful to wait until she was introduced before approaching her commanding officers. In her favor, Wrecker's large body covered her from their direct line of sight, though the three Jedi sensed her anxious presence long before she concluded this.

As always, Hunter grasped forearms with Cody in a good-natured greeting. "Nice to see you again, Commander."

"You too, Sergeant." Cody gestured to the Jedi and introduced them in order. "This is General Obi-Wan Kenobi, General Anakin Skywalker, and Commander Ahsoka Tano - the three Jedi that the Republic sent to assist us on the mission."

Then he halfway turned back to his commanding officers and gestured to the Bad Batch. "This Sergeant Hunter, Wrecker is the muscle, Tech is our slicer, and Crosshair is our eyes in the skies - Experimental Unit: Clone Force 99."

Hunter and the rest of the squad saluted to their superiors with Tech of course spouting forth, "But we preferred to be called the Bad Batch." And the amused Jedi nodded back in acknowledgement, sharing ghosts of smiles with each other.

"I've heard great things about your squadron." Obi-Wan informed Hunter approvingly. "Cody says that you'll be able to infiltrate the base with no problems whatsoever, and I trust his word. I look forward to seeing how you four enhanced commandos succeed where our regular soldiers unfortunately could not."

"Thank you, sir." Hunter responded with an approving nod to back it up. This batch of Jedi seemed decent enough, he didn't catch any wavelengths of things to worry about, like arrogance or prejudice.

Expecting a new fifth member to this freak show, Cody couldn't help but peer around and even over them. "Where's that new recruit I met during the holo briefing?"

"Oh goody," Crosshair mumbled, rolling his eyes as the outsider was going to be given another chance to embarrass herself and by extension them.

Hunter heaved a reluctant sigh, and the soldiers behind him parted, creating a path for SAC-1 to march up to Commander Cody and the Jedi, who with her free hand saluted them respectively.

"This is SAC-1." Hunter introduced with a slight grimace, hoping she wouldn't embarrass him in any way. "We've just been calling her Agent."

Ahsoka's eyes especially were twinkling in awe as she took in the Special Agent Clone. "It's hard to believe that you're a clone trooper. I've only seen the one type throughout this whole war." She openly commented, though SAC-1 didn't detect any hostility behind those words like her squadron used. 

"I agree with my padawan - you're unlike any clone trooper I've ever met." Anakin chimed in, also bewildered.

"Well, I'm not exactly a clone 'trooper,' I'm a clone agent." SAC-1 pointed out on impulse. "I'm a new division to the Grand Army. I don't fight in regular battles, I go on special missions that clone troopers of any kind can't handle, like for instance undercover missions."

Hunter's eyes would've widened in fear as he realized the warning signs of a ramble, yet the leader preferred to keep his emotions to himself. But boy, did he want to smack her though as the unnecessary words kept pouring outta her mouth.

"See, it would be difficult for a clone trooper to go undercover because there's a million others with his exact, well-known face - the Separatists would sniff him out instantly. But Special Agent Clones will be kept on the DL with the enemy, and they will each be created by different genetic hosts so that they can blend in with whatever environment they're in and not be traced back to Kamino or the Republic Army."

Everyone's eyebrows snapped upwards, startled at this information dump, and for a moment SAC-1 felt her face heat up in regret. In the short time she was with the Bad Batch, she saw how the others sometimes expressed annoyance at Tech for going off on a tangent about anything and everything no matter the situation or time of day... and she did just that now, in front of her commanding officers no less. '... Should I just have kept my mouth shut?'

Even without enhanced senses Sergeant Hunter's ire could be felt, and SAC-1 hated the fact that he now must have another reason to despise her: because she embarrassed him.

But then Ahsoka smiled coyly and gave a sideways glance at the two other Jedi and Cody. "Well, I hope they make them all women, because I get tired of being surrounded by stubborn men all the time. You're a breath of fresh air."

Anakin's response was a stink eye, but Obi-Wan merely chuckled in amusement at his padawan's padawan. Ahsoka was indeed paying the younger man back for everything Anakin put him through these last ten plus years and the older man was not above feeling some satisfaction over it.

Relieved at no backlash even though she clearly deserved it, SAC-1's eager smile returned, directed at this nice superior partially in charge for this assignment. "I've only been with Clone Force 99 for one day, and I already understand how you feel, sir." She felt brave enough to concur with, and from above Hunter shot her down a warning look. "What?" To his dismay Commander Tano's sassiness rubbed off on her. "Why pretend we actually get along? They'll find out soon enough that we don't."

Jaw clenching that all-too-familiar glower was pinned on her, and SAC-1 rightfully assumed that if they weren't currently with their superiors, he'd verbally chew her out right now. It was strange, though, how stupidly bold she was being. But with these rude soldiers, SAC-1 just couldn't bring herself to care. It might've been stupid, but she couldn't ignore how narrowminded they were being about her presence. It hurt. For so long, she'd hoped leaving Kamino would bring her some relief from mistreatment of her superiors.

If only she knew next to her, Tech hated that she felt unwelcome. And that Wrecker behind her... kind of felt the same way. He was getting used to her. They got a new ship because of her. To her right, Crosshair was actually quite amused at the edginess between the Sergeant and the Agent, but was also irritated at her behavior and communicated it through a roll of the eyes.

Shooting each other awkward looks, Anakin and Ahsoka had grown uncomfortable, sensing the bad blood in this infamous squadron.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan cut in before things could escalate further, a legitimate fear that there'd be hands thrown - Cody had plenty of stories on that score with this batch of clones. "Well, it's wonderful to meet you, Agent, and I'm excited to see a specialized clone like you in action." After defiantly holding the Sergeant's harsh gaze for a tense moment longer, with a fake soft smile at General Kenobi SAC-1 nodded at him in thanks. Obi-wan took the victories where he could get them, grabbing Sergeant Hunter's attention with a pointed compliment to break the tension. "I look forward to seeing ALL of you in action." SAC-1 monetarily forgotten, Hunter cooled down enough to politely thank him.

Clearing his throat Cody interjected to say they should go over the plan, and bobbed his to the right, "Follow us to the bridge."

Marching out of the Hangar first, the Jedi followed, and Clone Force 99 after them, but SAC-1 singlehandedly brought up the rear, feeling a pang of sadness in her chest despite the group's actions towards her. Being deprived of social interaction her whole life, she was absolutely thrilled to be a part of a squad! To be surrounded by good people who fought for the same thing she did: peace. But now it felt like she was back in that lab on Kamino: surrounded by people who made her feel nothing but awful about herself and doubtful about her skills. She hid her insecurities well, behind a mask of righteous indignation, for she'd rather come off as strong than weak, but she wished she didn't have to put on a mask at all.

SAC-1 was put out of her stupor when she felt a presence step into pace next to her, and glanced up from her boots to see Commander Tano. "Want some compa - Hey, you okay?" Ahsoka wondered with a concerned frown at SAC-1's dazed look.

They stepped out the hanger doors, the confused Agent asking, "I am... Are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" The young Jedi truly wondered.

"No one ever wants to be in my company." SAC-1 disclosed bitterly.

"What about your team?"

A mirthless laugh increased Ahsoka's concern tenfold. "Especially my team." Why did these people rejecting her hurt so bad? It was as if a massive weight was crushing her chest.

Ahsoka glanced at the four enhanced clones with furrowed brow lines. "Why's that?"

SAC-1 eyes narrowed at the back of Hunter's head specifically. "To put it simply, they think that because I've never been in battle, I'll hold them back." She explained, voice low because she didn't want to risk angering the Sarge further if he overheard her gossiping about him.

Surprisingly, Ahsoka reached out to put a reassuring hand on SAC-1's armored shoulder. The foreign contact made the touch-starved female clone stiffen, but the padawan didn't shy away because she knew all clones experienced this, and decided to help ease her into it, "Don't worry, I'm sure once you prove yourself they'll warm up to you - that's what happened to me and my Master."

Eyes darting from the orange hand to the orange face of the encouragingly smiling togruta teen, SAC-1 found the physical reassurance to be odd... but not unpleasant. "You and General Skywalker?" She was surprised to hear that someone else went through this exact problem. Uncanny!

Ahsoka snickered at the memories of their strained first interactions, "Yeah, he didn't want to take me on at first, but once I proved I wouldn't slow him down like he originally thought, he accepted me as his padawan and we've become a formidable team that leads the 501st Legion to victory every time."

Finding herself to be a pessimist SAC-1 gave the Commander a tight-lipped smile. "That sounds all good and well sir, but I think it's going to take a lot more than that for them to accept me. They don't seem to interact well with anyone outside their tight-knit group." Boy, had she seen some things already.

"Don't worry, I know this will all end well." Ahsoka patiently repeated.

SAC-1 still didn't quite believe her, so she decided to change the subject, drawing to the conclusion that Ahsoka actually wanted to interact with her, which is what lifted her spirits. "So, I've read some things about the Jedi."

The deliberate change of the subject wax obvious, but Ahsoka went along with it. "Mhm."

"I don't quite understand your ways and beliefs, but I'm intrigued to learn more about your unique weapon - the laser sword."

"You mean lightsaber?" Ahsoka amusedly corrected with a grin.

SAC-1 nodded sheepishly. "As you can see I know very little about them, and I want to understand my generals and commanders better if I'm to fight alongside them." It would definitely help with the whole trust things soldiers were supposed to have amongst them.

Because the small immature part of her liked to show off, the young Jedi reached into her cloak and unhooked her lightsaber from her hip, holding it out for SAC-1 to study. The female clone eagerly took it with a gentle hand and observed the seemingly simple weapon that was able to tame such raw energy while Ahsoka explained how it worked and how it was wielded. SAC-1 hung onto her every word and asked intuitive questions when appropriate, all the while itching to press the button that turned it on, to see its power with her own two eyes.

After Ahsoka was done explaining the basics, SAC-1 did finally give her a pleading look, like a child asking for candy.

Grinning, Ahsoka gave a firm nod in permission. SAC-1 passed off her helmet to the Jedi, and held the lightsaber with both hands now, taking in an excited breath while taking care to lean her head backwards a bit.

She pressed the activation button-

Pssshhew!

The brightest of a glowing green lit up SAC-1's already shining eyes, and her awed grin over its magnificence intensified this.

The sound of the lightsaber activating snapped the others to attention and they whipped around to, thankfully, just see Ahsoka smiling and strolling several feet away from SAC-1, who was doing some test stances with the exotic weapon since there wasn't anyone in this particular hallway, the vibration/hum-like sound bouncing off the walls of the almost empty hallway.

"You wield it like a professional!" Ahsoka commented, highly impressed and admittedly a bit put off.

"I've been trained to use a vibrosword, but even though it's a remarkable weapon, I think your lightsaber upstages it just a smitch." SAC-1 was full of admiration for the work of art. A plasma blade powered by a simple magic crystal - absolutely fascinating! However, when she noticed the group had stopped and specifically Hunter's disapproving frown, she sobered up and deactivated the lightsaber, giving it back to the Commander and retrieved her helmet.

"That's what that is?" Ahsoka asked in curiosity, pointing to SAC-1's sheath. "I wondered what was in the scabbard. I knew it couldn't be one of those ancient swords that wouldn't last two seconds against a droid army with blasters."

Anakin was smiling proudly at his little padawan who was socializing so well, but he knew that they had important business to attend to. "Come along Ahsoka, you and your new friend can play with swords later." He teased light-heartedly, easing SAC-1's anxiety. Lifted her spirits, actually.

'Commander Tano and I are now friends?' 

:D

Ahsoka sneered playfully at her master but genuinely grinned at the hopeful Clone Agent, feeling borderline euphoria.

'I finally have a friend!!! Someone who is kind to me!!!'

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Activating the holo-table in the bridge to show a detailed map of the base, Cody explained all the details of their assault, on each side Anakin and Obi-Wan chiming in when they thought necessary. 

The more that they explained the plan however, the more that SAC-1 didn't think it was adequate for this particular layout of the Command Center. Nor for a second strike, because the Separatists might be expecting them. 

"Any questions?" Cody asked when they finished.

SAC-1's finger shot up. "I have one." All attention now on her, an intrigued Cody nodded for the new recruit to continue. "Wouldn't it make more sense for this to be a stealth mission?"

"How so?" Obi-Wan asked, hand astutely stroking his beard.

"It's my conclusion that making our presence so explosively known right from the beginning will greatly minimize the odds of retrieving this tremendously important information because once we do, Tech will have a thousand droids on his heels which will give him less time to retrieve the incriminating hologram, and we cannot afford to lose another chance. But, if the droids weren't alerted of our presence, we could plant charges as we snuck up to the mainframe, Tech would ideally have more to retrieve and transfer the data onto the holodisk, then we sneak back out and blow up the base once we escape."

She may have finished with a confident air about her, but was only to be met with silence and stares.

Several seconds later, Crosshair cut through that silence the only way he knew, taking out the toothpick from his mouth to degradingly say, "Why don't you leave the plans for the ones who've actually fought in the war, cyar'ika?"

She had no idea what 'cyar'ika' meant, but after several beats of outright astonishment, to everyone's stupefaction SAC-1 grinned mockingly at the Sniper because she had an inkling what he said was an insult.

Crosshair wasn't her superior in any way, so she felt more than qualified to retaliate to the soldier determined to make her look bad. "You are so right; I mean what would I, 'a shiny,' possibly know what I'm talking about? My training and research will never match your experience." She haughtily huffed, "I guess I should just leave the planning to you seasoned veterans of the war." 

A direct insult at his silver hair, Crosshair's face twisted in a vicious sneer, yet Wrecker guffawed 'cause that was kinda funny.

SAC-1 made to stalk out of the room, but was stopped by Hunter with a hand clamping down on her pauldron.

"Where are you going?" He questioned in his harsher Sergeant voice, and she briefly wondered if he had any other tone as she hadn't heard him really use another one since she met him.

"We have a couple of hours before we reach Silva, so I want to explore the cruiser." She answered tersely over her shoulder.

"Uh, are ya sure that's a good idea?" Wrecker asked concernedly. "Remember what happened in Tipoca?"

Her soulders slumped in humiliation at the inability to wander around by herself yet. As much as SAC-1 wanted to get away, she really didn't want to embarrass herself again.

Her new friend actually came to her rescue, jogging up to her and once again put a caring hand on SAC-1's other shoulder. "I can show you around!" Ahsoka offered kindly, and absolutely meaning it.

SAC-1 gave her a look of pure gratitude and the two of them left, SAC-1 feeling comfortable enough to immediately spout off her mountain of questions about the ship, and Ahsoka happily answering them all, having been taught ship mechanics by her Master.

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With her enhanced mind, SAC-1 had a fierce thirst for knowledge, especially since everything she had learned in her four short years was strictly about what would benefit her in the field. That meant that she had a lot to learn about the galaxy around her... and had zero people skills whatsoever. She had no idea how to know when she was being overbearing, and was put off when Ahsoka, after a full hour of patiently answering all of the questions that popped into that exceptional mind of hers, seemed to snap in a clipped tone, "Maker, I don't believe you've drawn a breath this whole time!"

Her steps faltering, SAC-1 was stunned to silence. Her face paled when the figure of Nala Se appeared next to her instead of Ahsoka. SAC-1 cowered in shame. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to annoy you! Please don't be upset, I won't do it again I promise."

"Woah, hey!" Regretful Ahsoka grasped SAC-1's trembling shoulders and tried to get her to raise her head, "No no no, it's okay I'm not upset!"

SAC-1's head snapped up. "You're - you're not?" She asked in a small voice.

"No of course not, I was just teasing you!" Ahsoka reassured her.

"Oh..." SAC-1 sniffed, the red tinted cheeks not letting up, "Sorry." She weakly added, not knowing what else to say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for!" Ahsoka placed a hand over her own heart, "I upset you, so I'm sorry."

"I didn't realize that you were teasing." SAC-1 admitted in shame, "Usually when people point out my annoying tendencies it's because I've - well - annoyed them."

Ahsoka knew about the Kaminoans tendencies to be negative towards their 'property', and immediately understood where Agent was coming from. She now tried counter that negativity with positivity and draped an arm around Agent's shoulders with an encouraging smile. "You've led a sheltered life, so you're naturally curious about the galaxy - it's not annoying, it's actually a quality that should be celebrated! I was just making a joke to lighten the mood, seeing if you wanted to talk about something other than the cruiser."

"What else is there to talk about?" SAC-1 truly wondered.

"Well, I know that even though you were subjected to intense training rituals, all cadets still had some leisure time." Ahsoka got them to start walking again, "So, what did you do for fun?"

"Fun?" The Agent repeated with a befuddled look, the foreign word feeling odd in her mouth, "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that term, what is 'fun?'"

That was not the answer the young Togruta was expecting, and her smile faltered while her heart sank, "Oh... it's something you do for yourself, for... enjoyment."

"Oh!" The Agent hummed in deep thought, which only made her companion even more sad. After a full ten seconds, SAC-1 snapped a finger with a broad smile, "Once a week during my Anti-Trauma De-Programming sessions, I got a full hour to ramble without any reproach or punishment - does that count as fun?"

Ahsoka abruptly stopped, blue eyes becoming icy, "What 'trauma' did you need 'de-programming' from, exactly?"

SAC-1's eyes bugged out and chest constricted in fear, "Uh -"

"And what sort of 'punishment' did you receive for this quote unquote, 'bad behavior?'" Ahsoka asked more forcefully.

SAC-1 sputtered, becoming unglued at the thought of this massive slip up. If Nala Se found out about this, she'd be FURIOUS, for no one was supposed to know about the experiments at all, especially since they were, sometimes, also used as rightful punishments for her stupid mistakes. 'If the Jedi find out, all our cloning scientists will be locked away in jail and we would not be able to produce more soldiers for the GAR, and the Republic would lose the war - do you want to shoulder that burdening responsibility?' Nala Se repeatedly threatened her with to ensure she'd never breath a word about it to another soul once she was free from her control... though even thousands of light-years away from her, Nala Se still had a hold on SAC-1 it seemed.

Ahsoka, the Jedi who took her peace-keeping duties very seriously, thrust her hands forward and firmly grasped the anxious clones' shoulders, "Agent, if the Kaminoans are doing anything underhanded -"

"Forget I said anything!" SAC-1 blurted out, which only made Ahsoka more suspicious but the Agent reached up and gripped the padawans wrists, and gave her the most entreating look she could muster, "Please, sir, I was just exaggerating, it's really nothing!" The Jedi skeptically quirked the facial marking that would be an eyebrow if she was a different species, "... nothing I can't handle?" SAC-1 mentally berated herself for the pitch in her tone, which only furthered Ahsoka's suspicions, "Commander, can I respectfully ask that you forget about this, and we move onto another subject of conversation that doesn't include questions about the starship..." Ahsoka didn't want to budge, but after SAC-1 gave the most pitiful, "Please?" 

With much reluctance and questions the young Jedi dropped the subject. "Alright... but just know that if you're being mistreated in any way, you need to tell someone." She dropped her hands, "My door is always open, but if you don't feel comfortable talking to me, then go to General Shaak Ti, she represents the Republic there on Kamino, overseeing the training of troopers and is an advisor to the Prime Minister."

SAC-1 fervently nodded, though she would never ever take her up on the suggestion, actually vowed to watch her tongue more astutely. "Sooooo, what made you decide to become a Jedi? The lightsaber? The padawan braid - erm - bead accessory?"

Ahsoka was not going to let this go, but decided to humor the curious, deprived young woman. "It doesn't exactly work like that." She halfway chuckled. 

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Silva's picturesque landscape was said to rival Naboo's, holding many jewels within its trees, like waterfalls, meadows, lakes and many more wonders. There were only three large modern cities on the planet, the people preferring to preserve the beauty of the forest landscape and live in harmony with nature in small, primitive villages. Their houses were built from the natural resources found around them and had minimal-to-no technology. Anyone who wanted a tranquil life could find it on Silva.

So of course, it wouldn't be beneath the Separatists to invade the peaceful planet.

An hour later, right at 0900, SAC-1 and Ahsoka walked back into the Hangar Bay to meet with the team for this mission. SAC-1 hadn't been able to explore the whole ship in two hours but was satisfied with what she did see. Despite the shaky start, the casual conversation between the two new friends never died after that, though Ahsoka had more to say than SAC-1 due to her travels and status as a Jedi Commander.

SAC-1 didn't like all the stares she was getting from the clone personnel while they roamed around the occupied parts of the cruiser - it was like Kamino all over again - and Ahsoka was in the middle of explaining why they did when they strolled up to their assigned gunship.

"Wait, so when that clone said I was hotter than the flames on Mustafar, he was saying he found me... attractive?" SAC-1 double-checked, having mixed feelings.

"Yeah, it's called a pickup line." Ahsoka clarified with a disgusted look on her face. "I once had a guy say my smile glowed brighter than the lightsaber on my belt."

"Huh." SAC-1 breathed as they stepped into the group circle.

"What do you think of my cruiser, Agent?" Anakin asked politely.

She beamed, ignoring the dirty looks she received from her Sergeant and the Sniper next to him. "It's unbelievable, sir! And I mean that in a good way, of course." He smiled back. 

"Let's get going," Cody interposed, "We want to keep the element of surprise with the Separatists."

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"First battle." Ahsoka proclaimed to her new friend beside her, rolling her shoulders to release any tension. "You ready for this?"

SAC grinned back at her, placing her helmet over her head, response altered by the voice modulator. "Ready and eager, Commander." But not able to mask her chipper tone. 😏

The blast shields creaked open, and a strong gust of air whipped about them, the planet's surface thirty yards below.

With two years of training under her belt Ahsoka was unaffected by the harsh push and pull of the wind, and effortlessly approached the ledge. Before jumping, she smirked over her shoulder at the Clone Agent so far keeping her footing pretty well. "Too bad you're not a Jedi - we could've raced to the surface."

SAC-1 returned the smirk under her helmet, Ahsoka's playfulness rubbing off on her. "Who says I need to be a Jedi?" Ahsoka furrowed her eyebrows at SAC-1, who without any explanation ran and yeeted herself off the ship.

Hunter felt his heart drop and rushed to the ledge along with everyone else, thinking he'd see her fall to her death. He might not like her but that didn't mean he wanted her to die! 

To his relief and massive frustration her jetpack that he forgot she had activated just before she hit the ground and slowed her falling the last few feet, preventing her from becoming part of the ground. He could only shake his head at her crazy antics. Ahsoka on the other hand barked a laugh then jumped after her.

"I think you've been replaced, Anakin!" Obi-Wan teased over the howling wind, making his former padawan give a sideways peeved look but with a playful smile. Wrecker loudly cheered her on. Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair were baffled at her courageousness... or was it stupidity? They pulled crazy stunts everyday, but were not used to others doing so. It was their trademark.

SAC-1 touch downed on the planet's surface first in a crouch, having had an unfair start, and Ahsoka landed several seconds later. "You cheated." She claimed with a grin, unhooking her lightsaber and ready for anything.

"Sorry about that, sir." SAC-1 straightened and yanked out her vibrosword, "Next time, I'll give you a head start." She teased, liking this whole playful thing, and Ahsoka's reply was a good-natured punch to her pauldron. 

Now came the time to put her enhancements to use. Tense and alert SAC-1 surveyed the meadow with her enhanced eyes and ears. 

The gunship landed behind them, dirt and blades of grass being strewn about by the force of the repulsors and the rest of the crew whipped out their weapons and cautiously stepped off, but SAC-1 signaled for them to relax. "I don't sense any droids nearby." She informed them.

Ahsoka's eyes widened. "You can sense droids?"

"Both Sergeant Hunter and I can, yes, it comes with our enhanced senses."

Ahsoka looked at Anakin with appalment. "Even we can't do that, Master."

"It's definitely impressive." Anakin agreed with equal energy.

"Are there any droids nearby, Hunter?" Crosshair still overtly asked his Sergeant which peeved his new teammate, and Ahsoka once again noticed the pass at the Clone Agent which made her feel uncomfortable and a bit annoyed as well. There was definitely a lot of tension with this famed squadron, and she hoped it wouldn't affect the mission.

Hunter apparently didn't care about sparing his squadmates feelings either, taking a moment to check out their surroundings with his tried-and-true trustworthy skills. "Not yet, but we should stay sharp; we're not that far from the base."

Cody cut the chit chat, "Alright, remember the plan: we have to get Tech into the mainframe so he can - "

SAC-1 felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Whipping around, which made Cody stop re-briefing and everyone become battle ready, her enhanced eyesight zeroed in on a probe droid thirty feet away hidden in the trees, recording them.

Without any warning she darted towards the tree line and disappeared in the forest, the sound of blaster fire and then the clanking of metal against metal making her team rush to her aid, only to find her on top of the distressed probe droid. SAC-1 jabbed her knife into its main photoreceptor, causing sparks to fly at contact and its systems to shut down, and the droid fell to the ground with the beeps and other sounds dying clankers made. It was music to her ears.

Once it was gone, she hopped off of it and wrenched her imbedded knife free. "The Separatists anticipated your return." She declared, sheathing the knife onto her wrist guard.

Obi-Wan was impressed at her quick work, "You took out the probe before our plan was revealed to them - nicely done."

SAC-1 nodded and underneath her helmet gave a confident grin.

Hunter was in shock that she sensed the droid mere milliseconds before he did and was able to take it down without getting injured. He felt a spark of hope in his chest for maybe, just maybe, she wasn't going to screw up things up for them.

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There they were, breaking into the base and blasting down droids, or in Wrecker's case punching them into oblivion. In the midst of the battle, Hunter tried keeping an eye on the Clone Agent and couldn't help but be impressed at SAC-1's abilities at the moments he could flit a glance in her direction, and he wasn't the only one. The Jedi were shocked to see her absorbing blaster bolts like them with her vibrosword. She took down dozens of droids with her sword and even her fist and booted foot, effortlessly alternating between the three that everyone thought 'Wow, she really is a super soldier!' 

For a brief moment, Hunter thought she actually belonged with his team of abnormal soldiers, thinking her to be a great addition to the squadron. He'd be proud to fight alongside someone like her.

But one thing SAC-1 and Hunter would and did learn the hard way was that simulations weren't completely capable of preparing her enhanced senses for the battlefield.

They were so close to getting Tech into the building where the computer would be, only having one more wave of clankers to get through.

"Wrecker, time for some explosions! Clear a path for Tech!" Sergeant Hunter ordered over the comm, slicing a droid's head off and it cried out in 'pain' - could droids even feel pain?

"Ah yeah!" Wrecker cheered from across the battlefield. "You got it, Sarge!" Wrecker took out a charge while still shooting his rifle with his other hand, pressed the activation button to bring it to life and chucked it towards the line of droids by the door of the command center.

But when the explosion hit, that's when things started going terribly, utterly wrong.

SAC-1 didn't know what happened, but her sword dropped from her hands, violently shaking. She needed to hold her throbbing helmeted head in those hands, her ears ringing so loudly that her eyes squeezed shut and face screwed up in unbearable pain!

Twenty feet away Ahsoka saw her crumple to her knees. "Agent!" She rushed to her side, deflecting blaster shots for the both of them, though SAC-1 wasn't aware of this. "Agent, WHAT'S WRONG?!"

The Clone Agent didn't hear her Commander's frantic calls though.

SAC-1's eye snapped open when the rings came to a halt, but things weren't any better. Her hands fisted into the grass beneath her, the blaster fire, shouts and lightsaber noises were for some reason overwhelming her thought to be fine-tuned senses. These typical sounds of battle were now completely deafening and disorienting her. Her dilated wide eyes darted back and forth but did not comprehend anything. She tried so hard to make sense of the situation and the readings on her helmet screen but everything was blurry and unfocused, and she was breathing heavily despite not moving, her heart was practically thrumming out of her chest as she was just knelt there-

Something searing, bright and ear-piercing whizzed past her head and she recoiled a few feet sideways... ramming straight into the back of Ahsoka's legs and knocking the Togruta right off her feet.

"Agent, what are you doing?!" Hunter roared in frustration, striking a droid in the chest piece but seeing the whole thing incident out of the corner of his eyes.

Ahsoka quickly scrambled to her feet, but alas she was not fast enough. Just as the Jedi was about to ignite her lightsaber, a blaster bolt she senses too late struck her in the stomach. With a pained cry from the burning sting she collapsed to the ground.

"AGENT!!!" Hunter shouted.

All at once, SAC-1 was wrenched back down to reality. "COMMANDER!" She cried out when seeing her new friend unconscious on the ground - or worse, dead. Another bolt flew past her head, and she rolled away a few feet back to her sword and swiftly picked it up to deflect blasts coming at her. Hunter decided not to interfere, seeing that she was up again.

SAC-1 pressed her helmet comm. "Commander Tano is down!" She frantically shouted, slicing through a droid that appeared.

Panic-stricken Anakin shouted back, "DEAD?!"

"I don't know!" SAC-1 whimpered, "She took a bolt to the stomach!"

"Get her out of here!" Anakin furiously instructed.

SAC-1 gritted her teeth and explored her options yet while having to deflect shots. Over twenty droids between her and the exit. That would take too much time to pick them off one by one, and Commander Tano needed medical attention now.

Then her first clear thought popped into her mind: 'SHOCK GRENADE!' With shaking hands she whipped one out of her belt pouch and hit the activation button. But just as she was about to throw it in the direction of the droids in her way, another bomb exploded right in front of her.

This disoriented her, the grenade was tossed haphazardly in the opposite direction it needed to go - straight into the path of Tech and Crosshair. The two Bad Batchers didn't see the grenade until it was too late, and they couldn't scramble away fast enough from their doom. An electric shock coursed through their bodies causing them to scream then collapse onto the ground unconscious.

Having been thrown onto her back, SAC-1's hearing came back in just enough time for her to hear through her comm, "- WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU JUST TOOK OUT TECH AND CROSSHAIR!" Hunter bellowed. She winced and held the side of her helmet.

"We won't be able to retrieve the hologram without our slicer!" Cody piped in.

"We're down four men!" Wrecker also shouted.

"That settles it - we're retreating!" Obi-Wan decided.

Hunter growled loudly in rage. "Wrecker, grab Tech and Crosshair!"

"Anakin, you cover him!" Obi-Wan instructed.

Wrecker and Anakin made their way to the downed Batchers and Wrecker threw them over his shoulders. Anakin provided cover when the two started towards the exit, Anakin redirecting red blaster fire and slicing through droids. Wrecker lugged his two limp squadmates on his shoulders.

"Hunter, get to the other two! Cody and I will cover you!" Obi-Wan said.

SAC-1's vision and mind were clearing up, and she was about to jump up on her own but a hand roughly seized her forearm and she was yanked up from the ground. She shook her head and, in slow motion, saw a red blaster bolt coming straight at her, but a blue lightsaber ricocheted it before it hit its intended target.

Suddenly, she remembered where she was and what was happening, but it was too late. Hunter, who already had Ahsoka over his shoulder, jerked SAC-1 along. Obi-Wan redirected blasts. They booked it out of the base before the droids closed off their exits, and Cody was behind them giving cover fire, dropping droids like flies.

Once they cleared the base, they darted into the forest.

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By the time the group reached the gunship Tech and Crosshair had regained consciousness, and Wrecker set them down when they started protesting about being manhandled. Ahsoka, who thankfully was still alive but not by much, groaned as Hunter gently laid her on the floor of the ship. Obi-Wan commanded the pilot to get them out of here NOW and the blast shields clanged shut and the ship rapidly ascended into the atmosphere and beyond. 

Fully alert Tech saw that Ahsoka needed medical attention, and being the medical expert of the squad treated her with the medpac, anxiously trying to keep her alive until they reached the cruiser. Anakin knelt down next to Ahsoka and gingerly held her limp hand when Tech applied a bacta patch onto her wound and injected her with painkillers.

Poor SAC-1 was frozen in her place at the back of the ship, an intense and all-too-familiar guilt crushing her very soul over what her uselessness had caused, unable to look at her suffering Commander. To remain quiet and inconspicuous she didn't even take off her helmet like the others lest it drew attention to herself even though she felt like it was suffocating her. But Tech did finish with what little he could do for Ahsoka, and all focus shifted to the trembling Agent. Cody, Obi-Wan and Anakin all bore confused frowns, not knowing that she was inadvertently responsible for Ahsoka's injuries and not understanding why she took out Tech and Crosshair; Tech and Wrecker exchanged thoughtful looks; Crosshair and especially Hunter ferociously glared at her with blazing eyes.

"Care to explain what happened out there?" Hunter asked in a dangerously low and shaky tone as he was trying - and failing - to contain his rage at the 'Special Agent Clone'.

Squirming under his fiery gaze SAC-1 eventually peering down at her boots in shame, "I - I don't know." She murmured weakly.

Hunter visibly shook in fury. "You don't... you don't KNOW?!" 

This sent piercing daggers through her head and she winced, holding the side of her helmet with her free hand. Tech noticed and... understanding dawned on him.

"You almost killed my brothers and Commander Tano and you can't explain why?!" Hunter continued raging, making Wrecker and Tech's eyes widen in fear - he'd never been so angry before.

Anakin shot up from the ground, harsh face looking between the two. "What do you mean she almost killed Ahsoka?"

"'Special Agent Clone' over here is the one who knocked her over and left her vulnerable." Crosshair the Instigator decided to helpfully elaborate, giving the cowering SAC-1 a sideways glare of his own, unfazed by Hunter's yelling - he thought it was just.

Anakin's eyes sharpened when he was told SAC-1 was responsible for his padawan's current state, "I don't know what happened, I -" She murmured in despair. 

"You screwed up the mission, that's what happened!" Hunter raved, and she gritted her teeth as a new wave of pain seemed to penetrate straight through her skull. "The chances of us being able to get back into that base are practically nonexistent because there'll be ten thousand clankers there by days' end, so now the Chancellors safety is at risk because of your mistakes!"

Her head was pulsating. The ear ringing was back. "Please stop yelling." She begged in a whimper, both from the pain in her head and the pain in her heart.

Crosshair scoffed in derision.

Hunter was absolutely appalled, and somehow, he raised the level of his tone even more. "You just made us fail the mission and nearly killed off half our men and you want me to be CALM about it?!"

Tech decided it was time to intervene and fearlessly put a hand on Hunter's shoulder. "Hunter, if I may ease your -"

"Not now Tech." Hunter growled in warning.

"But I -"

"NO TECH!" Hunter barked, and SAC-1 nearly dropped to her knees. She couldn't take much more of this.

The Sergeant whirled on his brainy squad mate who snapped his mouth shut. "I don't want to hear any more of your excuses about her! The woman kept going on and on about how she was supposed to be this 'great soldier' who 'couldn't fail missions' - you even fed into that! - but it's clear that she's all talk and no action!" He growled in anger again. "I knew this would happen! I should have fought harder to not take her on!"

Despite the throbbing, SAC-1 acutely felt that crushing weight of shame. It was all true, what he said. She had almost killed Commander Tano, Tech and Crosshair, and completely screwed up the mission, and Clone Force 99 was known as the squadron that always succeeded, so she had mucked up their perfect record.

Obi-Wan finally stepped in with his hands raised. "Alright, let's all try and take a deep breath." Yet covered in smoke, dirt and singed garments, he was vastly disappointed too. 

The ship lurched. They had landed back on the cruiser.

Wrath towards herself had grown into a forest fire within SAC-1 during this whole condemnation display, so much so that when the blast shields freed them, she stomped off the ship, yanked off her helmet and rammed it into the side of the ship, her enhanced strength making it shatter as if it was a piece of glass, pounding an indent into the durasteel. She stalked off, her erratic actions catching the attention of some clones in the area, and with wide eyes they smartly stepped out of the way of the fuming woman making a beeline towards the Havoc Marauder II.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Hunter roared after her, storming off the ship.

SAC-1 didn't give a verbal reply, not trusting her voice, only barely acknowledging him by a shove of her hand in his direction with her face twisted in indignation, then wrapped her shaky arms tightly around her middle and hung her pounding head whirling with words of deprecation. She felt she didn't need anymore of it, what could he possibly say that could be worse than what she was telling herself? 

Hunter was about to pursue her, but Cody grasped his armored shoulder firmly, stopping him. "Just let 'er go." He advised sternly.

"She's not getting off the hook so easily." Hunter seethed as Ahsoka was carefully laid on a stretcher and swiftly carried off to the medical bay, Anakin tailing them. Obi-Wan reluctantly marched to the bridge so he could give the unfortunate bad news to the council, who had high expectations for this mission. The rest of the Bad Batch stood stiffly off to the side, awaiting orders from their Sergeant, who was currently seeing red. 'What would happen now?' They wondered. Do they throw a party cause she's gonna get sacked or do they throw a funeral for their dead perfect mission success record. 

"There'll be consequences to her actions." Cody assured Hunter.

After he saw the pathetic excuse for a soldier disappear inside the ship, Hunter briskly turned towards the Clone Commander. "I want her shipped back to Kamino first thing in the morning." Tech's face fell, but Hunter ignored this. "Can you do that for me, Cody? She's a liability not worth the risk."

Cody inquisitive eyes bore into him for a second, but Hunter didn't flinch. So with no choice he nodded in concurrence, though said suggestively, "If that's what you really want." He knew what fate beheld all clones, Special Agent or not, who couldn't fulfill their duties successfully - maintenance work. He didn't know what Nala Se threatened though.

Hunter didn't seem to care either way, "It is what my squadron needs."

Cody hummed thoughtfully, but didn't press him any further, wanting to be a friend for him in this moment instead of a commanding officer, "I'll find a form of transportation for her." Cody cleared his throat awkwardly. "But uh, why don't you guys try bunking somewhere else tonight - maybe the barracks? Let her be alone for a while." Hunter squinted dangerously at him, and the reg brother held up his free hand in defense. "I'm not condoning her actions, but I'm sure she feels guilty enough about what happened and doesn't require another loud scolding to make her understand the gravity of her mistakes." Cody eyes landed on the shattered remains of the helmet strewn about the ground next to them.

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for her," Hunter asserted with no sympathy whatsoever. "That chick should feel guilty."

Chapter Text

Back in her room, SAC-1's dead, bloodshot eyes stared blankly into the large, round mirror hanging on her right wall.

Hunters berate was whirling through her mind at a million parsecs per second, blaring and hateful.

'You screwed up the mission, that's what happened!'

'The Chancellors safety is at risk because of  your  mistakes!"

'You just made us fail the mission and nearly killed off half our men  - '

Nala Se's parting words were next, soft but threatening.

'If you are returned to Kamino, we will be forced to rethink your usefulness to the army.'

Her face contorted in ferocity, and tears of pain came out of the corners of her squeezed eyes. "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?!" She shrieked, then once again hurled a punch at whatever was in front of her, which happened to be the mirror this time. It shattered under her fist, shards shot in any and every direction upon impact. The pieces of broken glass that remained under her fist severed through her glove and sliced into her knuckles but she didn't feel the sting. All SAC-1 felt was the crushing weight on her chest of guilt and impending doom.

Once Nala Se found out about her failure she'd be executed on the spot for sure, and while it would be just... SAC-1 didn't want her life to end so shortly after being introduced to the wonders of the vast galaxy.

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(DAY 4 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Tech heeded to Hunter's curt order that they leave SAC-1 alone... at first. But as the night dragged on his anxiety over the situation steadily increased. 'I know why SAC-1 failed, but no one wants to listen to me!' It was the bitter story of his life. More than once, Crosshair in the bunk above him hissed for Tech to stop shaking his leg or he would come down there and make him stop. Tech's nervous habit so fiercely shuddered the bunk frame that it made Crosshair feel like he was in the middle of an earthquake.

This made Tech even more anxious as it was a part of his thinking process!

Then, a bright light bulb appeared over his head as his exceptional mind did come up with a solution: 'Commander Tano would listen!' 

Instead of elaborately explaining his (almost) scientifically proven ways to ensure a brilliant idea every time to his grumpy little brother, Tech shot out of his bunk and bolted out of the barracks. Thankfully Hunter was out wandering the cruiser, too worked up to sleep, so Tech could easily slip away. Wrecker was a heavy sleeper, unlike the Sergeant, and Crosshair just muttered a 'Good riddance' under his breath before falling into a deepest peaceful slumber be could under the circumstances being surrounded by filthy, underhanded regs.

Halfway through his sprint to the medical bay, Tech realized that he forgotten his armor that was taken off so he could sleep more comfortably, but he quickly pushed that impropriety aside - 'There are more important things to worry about!' He barreled into the medical bay and beseeched a perturbed clone doctor for the location of Commander Tano as he had urgent business to discuss with her.

The doctor was surprisingly friendly to the defective clone despite his crazed eyes and disheveled blacks and hair, "You're in luck - Commander Tano just came out of the bacta tank, so she should still be awake." He motioned for Tech to follow him with a bob of his head, "I'll take you to her."

Tech found Ahsoka thankfully up and alert in her hospital bed, the bacta speeding up the healing process of the blaster wound, and she was dressed in a simple white hospital robe and pants. She was confused at Tech's presence, but set aside the datapad she was looking at to give him her full attention anyways. "What are you doing here?" 

Tech tugged up a chair next to her bed, promptly sat down and leaned forward slightly in eagerness. "I needed to speak with you, Commander, because I think you are the only one who will listen to me." Ahsoka raised a figurative eyebrow, silently urging him to go on. "I know what happened to SAC-1 on Silva: she experienced a sensory overload, which happens when something around us overstimulates one or more of our senses. That could be a crowded room for example, or in SAC-1's case, an explosion. There is suddenly too much information coming in through our senses for our brain to process. It can happen to new soldiers on the battlefield but I have found that it definitely happens to clones who have enhanced senses, like SAC-1. The explosion was too much for her unnatural hyperawareness to handle so she became disoriented thus subjecting her to erratic, uncontrollable movements and actions that caused you and I and Crosshair to be injured."

It took Ahsoka a few seconds to process all that rather heavy hypothesis he laid out for her seemingly in one breath. 'I guess all clones with enhanced minds do this?' "But shouldn't her training have helped her deal with bombs?" She argued once his speculative words did register.

"The Kaminoan training program does not include bombs, so SAC-1 had never experienced an explosion until Silva." Tech recited knowingly and grimly.

Understanding softened Ahsoka's features. "So it wasn't her fault she messed up... She had no way of knowing the bomb would affect her."

Tech's shoulders relaxed when FINALLY, someone was sensible enough to actually listen to him. "Exactly. So she does not deserve to be returned to Kamino."

Ahsoka became distressed at this news. "She's being sent back?" If there was one thing she understood about their conversation earlier is that SAC-1 received punishments for trivial things... So what sort of repercussions were in store for her for a failed mission and an injured Commander?

"Hunter has asked Commander Cody to find her transportation back to Kamino first thing in the morning." Tech explained mournfully.

Ahsoka heavily sighed, which irritated her tender wound but she sucked it up and, to Tech's discomfit, swung her legs off the bed. "Then that doesn't give us much time." She slowly raised from her bed, albeit a little shakily.

Tech's eyes became the size of saucers as he shot up from his chair, holding his hands out as if to catch her. "W-what are you doing?! You should not be exerting yourself!"

Ahsoka gripped the bed rail to steady herself then gave Tech a serious look. "My friend is in trouble for something she couldn't control." She placed her other hand up on his shoulder, "Take me to her, and the three of us can work out a plan to fix this."

Tech sputtered for a moment - he had planned to retrieve SAC-1 himself - but the determination in the young Jedi Commanders eyes told him that she wasn't going to sit around and do nothing. He reluctantly obliged and helped Ahsoka remain steady as they trudged to the Havoc Marauder II.

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SAC-1 was hunched over against the wall with fragments of broken glass surrounding her. Arms were limply around her knees and her heavy head set against them, mind racing about how by the end of today she'd most likely be executed in the most painful way possible. Nala Se took a sick pleasure in seeing how much pain the female clone could take before passing out anyways, and it'd thrill to see what it would take for her to actually perish after all that endurance training.

No longer would she Special Agent Clone-1, but Failed Cloning Experiment-59.

A timid knock sounded on her door, but SAC-1 didn't stir. Ignoring it, she hoped whoever was behind it would just leave her be, knowing she couldn't endure anymore shrieked reprimands.

After ten seconds, whoever was behind the door knocked again, more persistently, causing her to hoarsely whisper, "Go away." 

Well, of course they didn't hear her, and they probably wouldn't have listened to her anyways. Tech let them both in, and he and Ahsoka gasped when the light illuminated the broken glass and blood.

"Agent, are you alright?!" Ahsoka fretted as she, with Tech's help, rushed as best she could to her friends' side. 

SAC-1 raised her tear-stained face with furrowed eyebrows. "What are you doing here?" 

Tech admonished Ahsoka to sit on the bed instead. He grasped SAC-1's arms and forcibly raised her from the mess with such strength that she wasn't expecting. She was gently say next to Ahsoka, briefly examined for her injuries.

Tech rushed off to the medbay to retrieve supplies for her cuts, and Ahsoka as always placed a friendly hand on SAC-1's shoulder in an attempt to soothe her, sensing her emotional and mental spiral. "Tech explained to me what happened out there on Silva - I know mine and the Bad Batch's injuries aren't your fault."

To which SAC-1 shook her head in disagreement, pushing Ahsoka's hand away, not thinking she deserved the gift of physical reassurance. "I knocked you over and threw that shock grenade at Tech and Crosshair, so I did in fact cause your injuries. It's as plain and simple as that."

"You couldn't control your actions." 

SAC-1 knew this was true, but couldn't fathom it. 'How could someone not be in control of their actions? That's just crazy, and so am I.' 

Upon returning, Tech plopped down on the other side of SAC-1 and took her cut up hand, carefully removing the shredded glove. He ripped open a small packet that contained an antiseptic wipe and applied it to her bloody hand without warning, the sting causing a sharp wince on her part, but honestly she had been through worse pain in her short four years.

The sting subsided, but she kept her eyes trained on Tech's adept and quick moving fingers as they applied a grafting patch to her clean cuts, "Look, Commander, I don't understand what happened on the battlefield -"

"You had a sensory overload." Tech interrupted, now moving on to swaddling her hand up with a white cloth bandage.

'Sensory overload?' SAC-1 met his gaze with a line appearing on her forehead. 

Releasing her freshly mended hand, he moved his hands animatedly when he explained his long conclusion all over again. "A sensory overload happens when something around us overstimulates -" By the time he was finished, SAC-1 certainly didn't have any questions, but still felt conflicted.

"So you see, none of this is your fault." Ahsoka made sure to reiterate.

"That's not how everyone else sees it." Was SAC-1's jaundiced mutter, Hunter's rage replaying in her mind.

"It does not matter what they think right now." Tech stated rigidly. "What matters now is: how are we going to rectify the situation and reclaim your honor?"

"'We?'" SAC-1 repeated suspiciously.

"Yes."

"Why are you helping me?" Tech opened his mouth but SAC-1 held up a hand. "I know about your deal with Nala Se, Tech." He frowned, now understanding everything that changed with her. "I know that if I failed this mission, I'd be sent back to Kamino, and I know you all agreed to this."

Tech held up his pointer finger. "Yes I agreed 'to' it, but I did not agree with it." She quirked a brow, "I always supported the idea of you joining the squad, and made my position exceedingly clear to everyone."

She softened. "You... did?" Tech nodded fervently, and warmth began to thaw the ice that had formed in her heart. 'So Tech was really being sincere all this time, not playing with my emotions.' :D

The beam of light finally returned to her face, but almost as soon as it was there it was gone, getting back to the more consequential issue at hand. "I have an idea on how to fix this, but I'll need your help and complete trust even though I'm probably gonna sound crazy."

"You have both." Ahsoka guaranteed.

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"You did WHAT?!" Was Hunter's aghast response at 0800 when Tech commed the Bad Batch, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Cody and requested that they meet him and Commander Tano at the bridge. And once they did, he informed them that the two had helped SAC-1 commandeer a Y-wing starfighter so she could go back to Silva and use her original plan to sneak into the Separatist Command Center to retrieve the hologram with minimal resistance.

Tech misunderstood Hunter's tone and tried repeating it for his benefit, "I helped SAC-1 commandeer a Y-wing starfighter so she could -"

"No, no, don't say it again, I heard it right the first time!" In reality, Hunter was just so utterly gob-smacked that he gave Tech a chance to change his statement before the Sergeant throttled him without the least bit of regret.

"Are you insane?" Crosshair hissed tempestuously from his spot next to Hunter, himself wanting to asphyxiate his apparently stark-raving mad older ori'vod.

Wrecker massaged the back of his neck nervously, not liking the tense situation one bit.

Tech remained firm though, making one of the higher ups, Cody, seriously query the loony commando, "Tech, how could you do something so reckless? She'll never be able to sneak into that base after we've tried invading it twice. Not to mention, she's unreliable - this is suicide!"

"I have this under control." Tech replied simply but confidently.

Hunter threw his hands up in exasperation and halfway turned away from the not-so-brainy clone, pinching the bridge of his nose as a stress migraine started forming much quicker than they usually did. 

Anakin looked disappointedly at his young padawan, who was occupying a chair by a computer because she was physically drained from being up all night. "Ahsoka, how could you support this crazy plan, after what she did to you?"

But Ahsoka firmly stood by her fellow schemer, "Master, what happened to me wasn't her fault."

"She knocked you off your feet and left you vulnerable." Anakin retorted. "How is that 'not' her fault?"

Ahsoka looked to Tech to explain it better than she ever could. "SAC-1 experienced a sensory overload when the bomb went off."

Time stopped for Hunter, and he remained speechless throughout Tech's explanation. He had heard this term and rant before, and memories resurfaced came in flashes about a day he had so desperately tried to repress.

"So you see, SAC-1 couldn't control her actions, therefore she should not be punished." Tech concluded, noticing Hunter's rigid form.

"Still screwed up the mission." Crosshair pointed out distastefully, their perfect record now mucked.

Tech's eyes didn't leave the frozen Sergeant, his words devoid of all emotion but at the same time still accusatory, "Hunter did the same two years ago on our very first mission -" The Sergeant's hard eyes snapped in his direction but Tech still finished, "- when he experienced his sensory overload, and yet we forgave him after we realized what had happened and righted the wrong... did we not, Hunter?"

Everyone now regarded Hunter with inquisitiveness, and his droopy eyes focused his boots in shame. Maker, he hated being put on the spot, mostly because he was already the leader of a controversial squadron. He didn't need another bad rep. Their actions were already so scrutinized. Hunter had tried so hard to suppress the memory of their first mission, hating the feelings of humiliation it gave him, and tried proving to himself and everyone else that he was the strong leader of the Bad Batch.

And now, thanks to Tech's lack of tact, he had another emotion to associate with the memory - crushing guilt. 'How could I not see it before?! I should have known that was what happened with her! Kamino didn't use bombs in their training, so there was no way she could control what happened to her!' His mind was whirling with self-reprimanding. 'You were so wrapped up in your hate for change that you didn't even warn her about what bombs could do to people like us! You left her to fend for herself and then went off on her when it could have been prevented in the first place!' 

The holoprojector on Tech's right gauntlet beeping when a comm came in. He was lightning quick to answer it. A small blue projection of SAC-1 appeared, taking off a helmet she must have grabbed from the armory and appeared surprisingly calm for someone on a suicide mission. "Tech, I've managed to sneak into the tower without alerting the entire base of my presence - might've had to slice 'n dice a few clankas - and I followed your instructions to block the Separatists from seeing this signal, so tell me how to find the hologram."

Hunter and everyone else was floored that she got into the base by herself, and curious as to how she even managed it, but Hunter took the two long strides to get by Tech. "Agent, forget this crazy scheme and get out of there! We know what happened, so you don't need to prove yourself."

His stomach churned when SAC-1 still frowned at him. "Sergeant, this isn't about proving myself, this is about completing the mission. We need to know who's scheming to kidnap the Chancellor."

"But -"

"With all due respect, I don't have time to argue with you about this." She focused her attention on the expert slicer. "Tech, walk me through this."

Tech frantically paced circles around the holotable in the middle of the room, painstakingly explaining every detail of what the Clone Agent needed to do to expose the encrypted hologram, and with equally fraught movements her hands sped around on the mainframes keypad to keep up with his fast-paced speech.

Hunter lips were set into a firm line as he tried to contain his agitation - which rarely happened on missions - but he still caught the attention of Ahsoka, cursed Jedi-Force abilities and all. "Don't worry." She tried soothing him, and his dilated eyes passed a glance at her warm smile. "With Tech guiding her, she'll be in and out in no time."

He acknowledged this with a curt nod, but still felt unsure, walking up and grasping the back of a nearby chair.

Thirty seconds passed and SAC-1 found nothing.

A minute - nothing

Minute and a half - zilch.

At the two-minute mark everyone was becoming incredibly antsy.

"Teeeech." Hunter growled anxiously over his shoulder at his squadmate.

He was unnaturally yet so expectedly calm, cool, and collected, "This is a complicated process but she's nearly there -"

"I found it!" SAC-1 proclaimed triumphantly.

"Perfect, now record it onto the holodisk." Tech instructed.

"And then get out of there!" Hunter demanded through gritted teeth.

"Transferring now -" A strange beep sounded. Her eyes widened, mouth becoming agape at whatever warning it gave.

Hunter felt a pit in stomach - something went wrong. He stepped up to her holographic figure. "What's going on? What's happening?"

She only began typing again, maintaining her composure unlike him. "Change of plans: I'm going to find out the name of the person now and tell you who it is."

"You've been discovered?" Tech asked worriedly.

Fifty-five  seconds

Her eyes flitted back and forth as she desperately tried to find the pertinent information, "The base has been rigged to explode if there's unauthorized access to the mainframe so once I broke through the encryption even with their codes, it triggered the alarm. I've got less than a minute to find the name of this person."

Everyone, even Crosshair, felt a wave of dread prickle their skin.

"Forget the hologram, just get out of there!" Hunter insisted, but she stubbornly kept typing. "That's an order, soldier!"

Thirty five seconds

She remained focused on the task, but still calmly said, "Sergeant, Clone Force 99 is known as the squad that doesn't follow orders, but still has a one hundred percent success rate. I intend to uphold its reputation."

Twenty-five seconds

Fifteen seconds

She perked up. "The mastermind's name is Moralo Eval, a male Phindian who's currently on planet Denon!"

Ten seconds

"Alright, now get out of there!" Hunter practically yelled.

Seven  seconds

SAC-1 flashed a glance at the door, where sparks were starting to fly. "The exit is compromised!"

Five seconds

Hunter's heart sank when she helplessly whipped her head right and left for a way out.

Three seconds

SAC-1 darted from the holodisk. They heard a crash of glass, then -

Flash!

BOOM!

The hologram went dead.

Tech rapidly pressed the keys on his comlink to access her channel. "Agent, come in!" Silence was his only answer. He fretfully glanced to his distressed Sergeant before trying again, not knowing what else to do. "Agent, are you there?!"

There was no reply.

Chapter Text

A fraught silence took place after they failed to establish contact with SAC-1... because it only meant one thing.

Tech was having trouble comprehending the thought that SAC-1, someone he had already considered a comrade, who actually listened to him, wouldn't be returning. This reality shut down his mind, and he ended up swiftly leaving the bridge so he could try and process this successful but at the same time failed mission. And how he had failed her by supporting this thought to be brilliant plan that led to her demise.

Wrecker hung his head with a crestfallen frown. He tried to focus on the fact that she completed the mission and died a hero, but that honestly didn't help at all. He'd not gotten used to her yet, but heh, he might've liked to include her in the game of who destroyed the most clankers, thinking that she could've had the skill to knock Crosshair off his high bantha.

For Crosshair, well, the mission was completed, that was what was important and that was what he would choose to focus on. Sitting around crying wouldn't bring her back. Nothing would. 

Ahsoka keenly felt the loss of her friend, even though they had only known each other for just over twenty-four hours. They had just clicked and while SAC-1 was very inexperienced about life in general despite being, in a way, several years older than her, she had the same liveliness as the young Jedi, something Ahsoka found refreshing after being surrounded by stiff Jedi Masters and troopers all day, every day.

Anakin sensed Ahsoka's heavy heart, and with a sad smile walked up to his young padawan, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. He felt terrible for thinking so badly of SAC-1 and was sorry to lose such a good soldier; Obi-Wan and Cody shared in this professional thought process.

But shockingly, it wasn't Tech or Ahsoka who felt the worst about SAC-1's demise. It was the man who had figuratively bitten her head off after the first failed mission attempt... Sergeant Hunter. Much like SAC-1 yesterday, Hunter was paralyzed in self-reproach over the situation, only his was actually deserved. 'I could've prevented this. I should have warned her about the bad side effects enhanced senses could have.' 

'SAC-1 would be alive right now if I had done this; her death is my fault.'

Death was something not new to Hunter, I mean they were in the middle of a war, but he had never lost a squad member. There were many close calls, but he had always managed to keep them all alive, and since he had a disdain for regs he was not heartless for feeling bad for these soldiers when they dropped like flies around him and no one bat an eye, but he was not crushed with grief. He barely knew them. It was the same situation for SAC-1, he only knew her for two days... But he felt like he'd failed to protect his squad, and that was a terrible thing to feel.

Obi-Wan broke the silence. "We shouldn't let SAC-1's efforts go to waste. I shall inform the Council about what she discovered and make sure they know that Silva has been liberated because of her."

Anakin nodded in agreement, then worried over his weary student. "We should get you back to the med bay, you need to rest."

Ahsoka tiredly hummed in accord to his 'suggestion', and Anakin helped her get up and led her out of the bridge, Obi-Wan behind them. Wrecker, knowing when Hunter wanted to be left alone, asked Crosshair if he wanted to go get some food and the Sniper, in a rare moment of graciousness, said sure, halfway side eyeing the stony faced Sergeant left behind.

He was separated from their prying eyes, yet Hunter remained frozen in his tracks, eyes glazed over as he was lost in his bitter regret. Eventually he too fled the bridge, the clone personnel wandering around the area making him claustrophobic.

The Sergeant wandered aimlessly around the cruiser at first, having to mutter sorry's when he unfortunately bumped into one reg after another, probably receiving some scathing remarks except he wasn't coherent enough to register them. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own and somehow, he ended up at SAC-1's door on the ship three hours later. He hesitated before pressing the access button to let himself in. Even though she was gone, it felt like an invasion of privacy. 

The last thing he was was expecting to see was another occupent. Tech was already there, his slouched figure placed in the middle of the dark room. The slicer flinched when the door opened, hardly at all relieved when over his shoulder he saw it was Hunter. Crosshair would definitely have made some snide remark about finding Tech here, and he didn't want to deal with that right now. But the Sergeant was at fault here, and in a rare moment of anger Tech allowed himself to express his emotions 'normally.'

His voice was stern but trembling at the same time, "I'm surprised you came here." And Hunter was so out of it that he didn't pick on the not-so-subtle nuances of his brother's monumental rise in temper.

"You're not the only one." He grumbled in disbelief, stepping inside and immediately noting the piles of crates still full of all her possessions. In fact, nothing was different in the lavish room except the wolf toy resting on her bed. A fresh wave of gnawing guilt rushed over him. "She never unpacked, did she?" 

"Obviously not - she felt unwelcome and was cast aside by her own squadron." Tech stated with no regard for how it would make Hunter feel. He was pissed and it was justified! By Tech's definition, squadmates were supposed to have each other's back and in their case, be a tightknit family that didn't need anyone else because no one else would ever really accept all of their tactics, behavior, etc.

Turned away, Hunter's face twisted in pain, hanging his head in utter and open regret. "I know and believe me Tech when I say I am regretting my actions."

Tech scoffed derisively.

Hunter's head whipped back upwards, an enraged sound like that had never come out of the emotionally detached and impassive man, eyes beholding a fire that was usually just burning curiosity, but now were resentful and furious. From the heat in that gaze, they could have seared a hole into the wall across from them where they were ferociously trained on an invisible spot. It was as if he did not think Hunter was sincere.

"I know I could have prevented her death if I had just looked past my frustration, and for that I'm really, truly sorry, Tech." Hunter reiterated. 

Instead of easing Tech's ire, his tone turned almost mocking, "That is a lot of sorry. Such a shame it will not bring her back."

Hunter's jaw would have dropped to the floor if he didn't have a reputation to maintain. "I... I don't know what else to do - what do you want me to do?"

And as Tech rambled, Hunter felt his heart break piece by piece for it was not his usual factual rambling, rather an angry rant where he barely drew a breath and ended with distraught shouting. "There is absolutely nothing you can do to make me recover from the tragic loss of the only person besides 99 who actually heeded my chattering with a willful listening ear and courteous words when it happened to become overwhelming, and she started doing this after only knowing me for a minute and a half. As I've explained numerous times before to my own brothers who should understand me more than anyone else in the whole galaxy, I cannot control my babbling because it's a side effect of my enhanced mind, just the same as your sensory overloads and more frequent migraines with the enhanced senses, or Crosshair's excruciating eyestrain and severe red eye that requires treatment because of his enhanced eyesight, or even Wrecker's fear of heights due to his hulky build and clumsy tendencies from his enhanced strength. But as you've all made abundantly clear none of you have even listened to my rebuttals after whatever scathing interjection you choose to impart on me when really, all that is needed for 'Tech to shut his trap' is a kind request which I will effectively and graciously shut up unless it's something life-threatening or life-altering!"

Under normal circumstances, a person wouldn't get upset over the death of a person they had only met two days ago, but Hunter now knew that it was deeper than that - his brothers didn't handle his rambling very well as time and the war dragged on, Tech was introduced to someone who did and actually understood the tendency, and then that little glimmer of joy in his life was brutally taken away from him. And to lose an actual squadron member, that only added to the distress. It had never happened to them before. 

Needless to say, it took Hunter a bit to find his voice. "... I didn't know it bothered you so much when they -"

"Well, it does."

"... But I try to be -"

"You still rebuff me quite a bit," Tech lamented, not letting him finish for once, "Maybe not with cutting remarks but you still only half listen, and I have concrete proof because sometimes you leave when I am in the middle of a sentence, meaning you started letting your mind wander at some point during the conversation and eventually dissociate yourself completely."

Welp, if Hunter wasn't feeling crappy before, he certainly was now. He tried and thought he succeeded at be this fearless, selfless, honorable leader for his squad and family but in reality, he had screwed up on all fronts, now realizing he needed to also be encouraging and attentive, things he thought he was doing well as the oldest sibling but apparently his efforts were subpar, and that was putting it lightly. He needed to build up the soldiers entrusted in his authority off the battlefield and also... adopt a good bedside manner when it came to dealing with pet peeves.

Hunter could not bring SAC-1 back from the dead, but he could at least make sure Tech was clear about his deep remorse over what he had caused, and tentatively reached up to place a firm hand on his shoulder. Tech automatically tensed but to the Sergeant's relief didn't rebuff his lame attempt at physical reassurance.That was more Wrecker's territory. "I'm really, really sorry that because of my stupidity you lost a friend who was, truly, one in a million." With such sincerity and regret, Tech's ire was immediately replaced with sorrow, the pain of losing the Clone Agent taking control again, and he accepted the comfort he so desperately realized was needed with a slight lean into Hunter's grasp, who was very encouraged by this positive response. "I don't know yet how I'll make it right, Tech, and I know no matter what I do it won't bring her back, even though I wish it did so I could make things right with her too, but I don't want us to lose what we have over this, and I will do everything I can to fix our friendship, I promise."

There was still some annoyance at Hunter's actions, and it would take time to process this tragedy. When Tech's shoulders slumped in grief it alarmed Hunter as he thought it meant his efforts were rejected, but a weak nod from the brainiac made some of the tension leave his shoulders. As such, the stoic and gruff leader - it seemed that all the members of Bad Batch were experiencing uncommon behaviors - shifted so that he pulled his equally awkward squadmate into a clumsy half-hug since Tech was four inches taller than him. Tech had to hunch slightly at the loving movement but it elicited the smallest of smiles from him, which Hunter declared a great victory.

Somewhat back to his old self, Tech was about to helpfully spew facts he learned about how to handle grief when his comlink shrieked.

Hunter speedily released him and Tech cleared his throat to steady his wavering voice, pressing the answer key. "Havoc 2 here."

"Tech?" A female voice said weakly.

"Agent?!" They exclaimed simultaneously.

"Yeah, it's me."

"What's going on?" Hunter asked with bated breath, though the sweet relief was absolutely welcomed.

"What is your status?" Tech fretted, not liking the sound of her feeble tone.

"I need a pickup and a medpac." She informed them, alarmingly sounding like she got the wind knocked outta her.

"Are you hurt?" Hunter demanded. 

"Why else would I need a medpac?" She retorted, mistakening him for being angry. "Just please hurry." They heard her hiss in pain. 

"I don't suppose you can create a power surge so we can track your location?" Hopeful Tech asked.

"I can't." Their hearts sank, "All I can do is tell you that I think I'm in a cave upriver from where the base used to be."

Knowing they could work with that, Tech nodded. "Hang tight, we are on our way."

And Hunter was already contacting the generals, telling them to turn the cruiser around.

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Hunter protested Cody's insistence that he and the generals help look for the hero of Silva and this mission, but much to his annoyance they insisted joining the search party. Tech told him that more people meant that more area could be covered in less time, thus giving SAC-1 more of a fighting chance against whatever injuries she sustained, and deep-down Hunter knew he was right. But he wanted to be the one to save her, for it was his fault she was in this situation in the first place. SAC-1 was alive, and he had to make this right. 

Obi-Wan and Cody went to the destroyed base to make sure any possible stragglers wouldn't be any trouble. Each carrying his own medpac Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker and Anakin searched the forest around the river for SAC-1. 

It took ten minutes before Hunter finally sniffed out her trail, but a wave of panic never experienced before nearly paralyzed him when the trail happened to be blood. Running so fast he practically flew along the path she had no choice in creating, discovering the sizeable cave hidden underneath the massive roots of a large tree, two minutes from the trail's start. And in a brief moment of recollection, he remembered how she'd researched this river beforehand. 'Guess it wasn't such a pointless event after all...'

Hunter whipped out a flashlight and rushed in. The wind was knocked out of him when shining the beacon at a truly horrific sight: the hunched figure of SAC-1 in burnt, cracked and in some places completely shattered clone armor at the back of the cave.The white of the armor was stained brown and red from mud mixed from dirt and blood. Her helmeted head hung from Maker above, hopefully not a broken neck, and a blaster was in her limp hand and-

Hunter was no stranger to gore either... but he nearly vomited at seeing the complete lower half of her left leg sliced clean off, a pool of the thick, red, life-sustaining substance around it. "Oh kriff." Completely out of character, he had a hard time activating his comm, his hands were shaking so bad. "I found her - Tech, get here now, her injuries are more than I can handle." He sputtered his location.

When the coordinates came through, Tech's cautious steps turn into full on sprints heard through the channel. "On my way!"

Carefully Hunter knelt down by her. He placed his flashlight on a rock nearby so that there'd still be light and took off his helmet and set it aside to see better. Reaching for her cracked one he did hesitate before gently grasping and taking it off her head, praying he didn't aggravate any neck or head trauma. The piece of garbage was tossed aside and she was nudged back against the wall, which raised her head. Her eyes were closed, a deep frown was set on her battered and bruised and dangerously pale face, marred by a gash over her right eye. Through the blood, it seemed that her eye survived, or maybe it was just because Hunter didn't think he could handle any more lost body parts and convinced himself of that.

This image would haunt him through nightmares for the rest of his life, he was sure of it. 

His chest constricted when sensing her weak pulse, and he gave her a little shake. "Hey... Hey." Still no response, so he shook a little harder, and wished she had a real name so he could be more personal with his pleas. "Come on, soldier, wake up!"

With no warning her entire body tensed and with a gasp her eyes shot open, a blaster was shakily aimed at him. Hunter quickly held up his hands. "It's just me! It's just me."

It took a few seconds for her panicked eyes to somewhat focus. But everything registered and instant relaxation made her thump against the rock wall again, blaster dropping in the process when her hand became limp.

After a beat, Hunter tentatively grabbed her shoulder again in a feeble attempt at comfort. "How, uh, how are you feeling?"

Her heavily lidded eyes meeting his, Hunter detected a hint of a glare among the haze. "Do you not see that half of my leg is gone?" She pointed out through gritted teeth, the searing pain manifesting there again... and in her ribs... and in her head.

Hunter dared another glance at the severed limb and felt bile rise in his throat. "Yeah... Kinda hard to miss." In a moment of clarity, he remembered he had a medpac and quickly unstrapped it from his back and dug in, looking for the meds.

But when he went to apply the painkiller injection she latched onto his wrist with what little strength she had left. "No needles." She seemed to plead, coherent enough to see what he was going to do.

"You need the pain relief." He insisted with as much softness his gruff demeanor allowed.

SAC-1 blinked several times, trying to make sense of what he was saying, before promising, "Give me the capsules, I'll take the capsules."

Unable to hold back a noise of frustration, Hunter thought that there were more important issues at hand than her apparent needle phobia, yet his guilt made him enable her.

The pills were downed at once like it was nothing, and the cool water was heaven for her dry throat. This zapped the last of her strength though, and the canteen was accidentally dropped, spilling water everywhere. "Sorry." Exhausted SAC-1 muttered out of habit.

Hunter shook his head in amusement and picked up the bottle, screwing on the cap. "I think there's more serious things to worry about than some spilled water."

'Like a severed limb... That I set you up for.' Remembering what he had said to Tech, how he wished he could have actually said sorry to SAC-1 for everything he put her through, Hunter regarded at her pitiful form with a pit in his stomach. In a stroke of stupid luck, he was presented with the opportunity to apologize... but he found himself hesitant. 'What if she doesn't forgive me?' Her horrid state of being was because of him, so it would only be natural if she rebuffed Hunter, and for some reason he didn't think he could handle that.

'She deserves an apology.' His conscience insisted. Hunter briefly pressed his lips together in apprehension, putting his hand back on her shoulder, mentally cursing at her lack of a real name again. "Agent?" She groggily looked up at his face actually twisted in anxiety and self-loathing. "I'm... I'm so-"

Tech and everyone else in the search party burst into the cave and Tech quickly found his place on SAC-1's other side with bioscanner in hand, cutting off Hunter who looked down in shame at not being able to declare his remorse. The rest of the search crew held their lights up so Tech could see what he was doing, and everyone wore varying expressions of horror when seeing extent of her injuries.

SAC-1 tossed a tired grin to her brainy friend. "Heya Tech, how'sssit goin'?" She slurred.

In medic mode, Tech focused on the life-saving task at hand, the gridded blue hue of the scanner searching her body for any internal injuries. The results came back milliseconds later. "You sustained some serious blood loss from your lost limb, have three cracked ribs and a severe concussion."

Hunter swiped a hand over his face in exasperation.

Tech assessed the lost limb, seeing that she had torn off a strip from her kama-like sleeve to tie just above the injury. "Oh good you used a tourniquet, that probably saved your life."

At that comment, Hunter's eyes sparked with frustration. "Why did you do something so reckless?" He questioned to her above Tech's order for Crosshair to prepare the stretcher, "Do you realize that you could have been killed?" It came out more harshly than he intended, but he was just so upset over the awful situation that definitely could've been prevented.

It took a few seconds for the questions to be processed through SAC-1's muggy brain. "Even if I hadn't, I'da been killed anyway."

"What are you talking about?" 

Her head bobbed a few times, signaling that she was trying to remain alert when her body threatened to shut down again. "I... I know about the deal with Nala Se, Sarge..."

Frown deepening, he averted his eyes guiltily.

"Nala Se also told me that... if I was returned to Kamino they'd rethink my usefulness to the army."

"She meant that you'd be trained in a different way, a more effective way." Hunter chose to believe firmly.

SAC-1 gave a sharp shake of her head in disagreement, causing more dizziness and her face screwed up in discomfort. "No, that's not what she meant -"

"Let's stop talking about this." Tech interjected. "This is aggravating your injuries, Agent."

"Stretcher's ready." Crosshair also cut in, 'cause this was sad to watch.

So Hunter not able to say another word on the subject, being promptly told to move.

The impromptu medic motioned for the Sniper to bring it over. They waited a few more minutes for the painkillers to fully kick in, so SAC-1 wasn't in too much pain when Wrecker moved her.

Then began the long trek back to the ship. It wasn't long as in distance, but long as in they had to stop multiple times to ease SAC-1's nausea, her concussion making her feel sick at any type of movement, and other injuries aggravated by the jostling. It took a couple of hours to go a few miles on mostly flat land, and the ship ride wasn't much better. Tech tried the best he could to ease her discomfort - putting a cold compress to the back of her neck, applying pressure to her inner wrist in circular motions, making her focus on her breathing and encouraged her to take sips of cool water - all things he had researched that was said to help with nausea at the very least. He couldn't do anything else for her pain, unfortunately, enhanced senses making it difficult to cut the pain entirely.

Regardless, a small part of SAC-1 definitely tried to appreciate all these efforts and tried to minimize her complaints, but Tech reassured her that her reactions were completely normal and that no one was judging her for it. Hunter felt more and even more horrible every time she whimpered, and he hoped with every fiber in his being that she would be okay. The smell of her spilt blood though, caused by his stupidity, it would be another thing to haunt him for eternity. 

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(DAY 7 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

SAC-1 woke with a start, squinting since a bright white light burned her retinas.

Her vision grew used to it after a few hard blinks, and clearer eyes darted around only to poppy wide open in fear, heart sinking to her stomach when there was only pristine white walls, countless monitors sounding off, and the nauseating smell of antiseptic.

'Oh no.'

She was in the lab again.

'No! Not again! Not another experiment!' 

Finding it difficult to draw in such sharp breaths SAC-1 realized there was a breathing mask attached to her face. She tore this off her face with a grunt and chucked it away as hard as she could, hearing the clang of the plastic colliding with small metal objects that clanged to the floor. On instinct she bolted upright in bed, only to groan from a wave of nausea and dizziness. When she went to hold her throbbing head, she saw that her arms and, upon further inspection, other extremities were also hooked up to various machines around her, including an IV. Another wave of nausea made her almost vomit this time and she was quick to tear them away, the sting it caused making a violent shudder course through her aching and cold body.

She flinched from the blaring alarm that went off. Her face screwed up and she held her head from the sensory overload that was well on its way to paralyzing her. A river of hot tears ran down her cheeks, "No! NO! NOT AGAIN PLEASE!!!" Her ribs ached something awful from her ragged breathing and her head was killing her but SAC-1 couldn't stop shouting variations of this plea.

Amidst the chaos a pair of hands firmly grasped her shoulders to still her frantic movements, but it only succeeding in making her shriek as Nala Se's picture appeared in her mind. SAC-1 blindly hurled a punch at that despicable woman, sending her flying across the room. The female clone fisted her hands into her hair with another failed attempt at breathing normally, almost tearing out chunks by the roots.

Then, everything became eerily silence.

But SAC-1's ears were still suffering from a self-induced deafening ring. And her hyperventilating continued without letup.

It was a steady voice that managed to cut through the chaos, "Agent, you're fine!"

A few more whimpers were sounded but she did finally raise her tear-stained face, and managed to put forth enough effort to clearly see it was Tech bearing a very concerned frown, rigidly standing by the now deactivated heart monitor.

"Tech?!" SAC-1 shrieked in fright, "They're experimenting on you too?!"

This panic-stricken question surprisingly didn't faze Tech. During the journey to Coruscant, Ahsoka had him brought to the medbay to have a chat with him, and she let him in on how SAC-1 acted during her tour of the ship: the severe trauma response to a simple tease, her panic at apparently revealing a deep, dark, secret about her Anti-Trauma De-Programming, and now what she had learned from her master: it revolved around the Chief Medical Scientist, Nala Se.

Well, Tech knew precisely what had gone on in secret, having been subjected to it himself, as did Wrecker, Crosshair, and Hunter, but he did not disclose this grim knowledge to his commanding officer. He was furious at himself for not suspecting it earlier! Rather, Tech agreed to Ahsoka's request at helping SAC-1 out with whatever was going on, and promised not to let her be subjected to more ill treatment, which he immediately reeled his squad into the promise after filling them in with his suspicions.

Tech remained steady and remarkably taciturn, taking a short step towards the frightened clone. "You are simply in a medcenter here on Coruscant."

It took several blinks for his words to be computed in addition to a few shaky breaths before SAC-1 repeated to herself the location he gave, to which he nodded in reaffirmation, "I'm not in the lab on Kamino being experimented on?" She couldn't control what came out of her mouth, unable to think of the consequences for revealing Nala Se's rotten habits. But she needed to hear it, too be absolutely certain it wasn't true. 

Tech's expression drooped a little in sadness. He closed the distance to kneel by the bed, gently reaching up to make SAC-1 release her poor hair before it was ripped from her scalp. "No. You are being treated for the injuries you received on Silva."

Recognition dawned on SAC-1. The mission. The bomb. The rescue.

Another pensive peer was taken of the room, slowly allowing Tech to lower SAC-1's hands from her head, but she clutched onto his before they pulled away. She still needing some form of grounding. This place wore the same white walls and blinding white lights, but that's where the similarities ended. The machinery was from different manufacturers, there were no Kaminoans in sight, and the big window her bed was in front of had a view of a bustling skyscraper filled city she'd read about, zero stormy clouds or raging oceans in sight.

Panic subsided by leaps and bounds. So sniffing, SAC-1 finally released Tech to wipe her tears away. She wasn't on Kamino. She was, in a way, safe.

A grunt came from the corner of the room. The next thing for SAC-1 to take in was Hunter clutching his ribs, his face twisted in pain when Crosshair tried and failed to him to his feet without hurting him further.

When she recalled punching 'Nala Se', the panic came back as the illusion turned out to actually be Hunter. "Sergeant!" She exclaimed, "Are you okay?!"

"You have enhanced strength: do you think he's okay?" Crosshair hissed rhetorically, letting go of Hunter's arm when he was upright, albeit a bit shaky. Thankfully there was a wall to support him. 

If Hunter had been wearing his armor, perhaps he could have been protected from SAC-1's unnatural strength, but he and the rest of the Bad Batch were wearing what they called 'civvies.' They each had variations of cargo pants and belts so that they could still carry weapons on them, and each had their wrist guards to keep their commlinks on them, but Tech wore a simple blue turtleneck, Crosshair had a simple long sleeve black shirt, Wrecker wore a poncho over a red short sleeve shirt and Hunter sported a green tank top, and each wore their combat boots. A bit of a humble wardrobe, but it was not as if these measly clones could afford anything extravagant. 

Back to the issue in the hospital room, SAC-1's hand fisted into her hair again, another freak out developing. "I'm sorry, I thought you were - and - and I thought I was being - and then the alarm went off - !!!"

Hunter held up a hand. "It's fine. Don't apologize." He tried taking in a deep breath, but that sent a wave of pain through his middle, and he grunted when his ribs protested. "But I may need a medic."

Wrecker barked a laugh from his position by the door.

As if on cue, a clone medic rushed in, having seen the commotion through the security cams. "What's going on here?!" He interrogated, seeing the now alert, disheveled SAC-1 and not-previously injured Hunter.

SAC-1 blushed and tucked her chin to her chest. "I may have panicked just a smitch."

"That's the understatement of the millennium." Crosshair quipped, which only made her feel even worse. Which was his intention.

The medic's eyes flitted between SAC-1 and Hunter several times, trying to decide who to examine first, and ended up deciding on his first, more seriously injured patient. He approached her with a disapproving frown, seeing she wasn't hooked up to the monitors or IV anymore. "What happened to your -"

"I don't want needles attached to me." She asserted defiantly.

"Those needles have kept you alive these past three days while you were unconscious and in the bacta tank." He retorted unsympathetically.

'I was out for three days? I don't even remember passing out.'

"Well I'm awake now, so I'll do whatever treatment necessary to recover from my accident, except be jabbed by pointy needles."

The medic heavily sighed. "I suppose since you don't need to be sedated anymore, but some needles will still be necessary to administer antibiotics for your infection."

Her heart skipped a beat, "What infection?"

"From your severed leg."

SAC-1's eyebrows snapped together. Her attention turned to get covered legs for the first time since waking up, feeling her stomach twist in knots when there was only one little foot lump.

"Due to it not being treated immediately, the stump became infected and -"

SAC-1 ripped off the sheet covering her legs and gasped. Just below her knee the bottom half of her left leg gone, a bacta tourniquet over her stump to aid in treating the gaping wound and preventing further infection.

She did heave at the sight. 'MY LEG IS GONE!!!' 

Then, 'NALA SE IS GOING TO KILL ME!!!' 

"You didn't remember that your leg was chopped off?" Wrecker bluntly asked.

Dizziness made SAC-1 sway as the gruesome memory of what happened resurfaced in her mind, and she massaged her aching temples. "Yes - I mean, no - I mean, yes, I do now." 

"Can you walk me through what exactly happened?" The doctor requested, getting his lightpad from his stand by the door.

"I... was jetting out the window from the Separatist base... and had just barely made it out when the bomb went off." She winced at the stills of the accident flashing through her mind relentlessly, not to mention the pain experienced when: "A piece of shrapnel from the explosion sliced my leg off in midair." The sickening memory of the sound of flesh and bone against metal didn't help the nausea at all.

The medic typed her tale down in the lightpad, then set it aside to check her vitals.

"You are definitely more stable than you were three days ago." He announced happily. "So you don't have to be hooked up to the machinery anymore." He grabbed a bioscan and scanned her stump next, frowning. "But you will still need doses of antibiotics for the infection." She whimpered, not wanting the needles, and he quickly but flatly added, "Another bacta tank session should do the trick though."

Accepting her fate, SAC-1 nodded grimly.

The medic turned his attention to Hunter next, bioscan in hand. "Now let's see what's the matter with you."

He was scanned and the results came in, and the medic became incredulous. "You have two cracked ribs? How did this happen?"

Hunter didn't meet his eyes. "I fell down a flight of stairs on the way here." He lied, surprising SAC-1 at the straight up lie... To protect her.

The medic obviously didn't believe that story, he must've known from the security cams that Hunter never left this room, but shockingly he did not to press. "Let me go arrange the bacta tanks for you two." Was his promise before marching out of the room.

Presented with the perfect opportunity, Tech decided to orchestrate a situation where Hunter could privately make amends with the Clone Agent. "Wrecker, Crosshair, why don't we get something to eat in the mess hall? And Hunter, you can stay here and rest with SAC-1 while you wait for the bacta tanks." He forcefully suggested, at the end pointing to the empty chair by the desk.

"I'm not hungry." Crosshair said grumpily.

Yet Tech was not deterred. "Well, I'm sure Wrecker is - right Wrecker?"

"I'm always hungry!" Wrecker stated the obvious, lumbering out of the room while saying happily to SAC-1 over his shoulder, "It's good to see ya up and at it, Agent!" Which greatly befuddled her.

Tech pointed to the back of his retreating comrade. "See? And... I cannot handle him on my own, so you must come as well, Crosshair!"

Crosshair steely eyes bore into Tech's twinkling ones for a long moment. But that quickly grew boring, he sassily rolled his eyes for show and just followed Wrecker, who was making a beeline for the magical place that provided actual meals not of the ration variety.

Before leaving, Tech made sure to give Hunter a secret pointed look. He had a difficult time knowing how to 'properly' act with scenarios that required emotions, but in this he was certain that an apology was in order. 

Hunter bashfully avoided SAC-1's questioning gaze when he slowly lowered himself onto the empty chair by the desk, biting back a groan from his ribs fiercely protesting. 

It was SAC-1's turn to become ruddy from embarrassment. "I'm really sorry about your ribs, sir."

Hunter immediately shook his head, but was still unable to address her properly. "Don't be... I deserve it." He murmured, the self-reproach deafening in his mind.

SAC-1 tilted her head, not understanding this at all, "Why would you deserve cracked ribs?" Because deep down a part of her knew the pain Nala Se inflicted on her was wrong. 

Hunter let out a sharp breath, trying to steady himself, and finally met her curious gaze with a determined one, "Because your injuries are my fault." This also didn't help, it seemed, her expression unchanged. "I should have warned you about the sensory overloads that come with first interactions with a bomb, so I'm sorry. About everything."

"You're... apologizing?" For some reason she wasn't comprehending this very well too, only this time SAC-1 experienced what she had learned was labeled an emotional roller-coaster. 

And he only offered a nod after that. He could not have made it anymore clear. 

Speechless, SAC-1 could only ponder him thoughtfully. No one has ever apologized for inflicting pain upon her. Any pain she received was deserved, said Nala Se, whether she had done something wrong or not. She was created for scientific purposes, and nothing more. Except here Hunter was saying SAC-1 royally screwed up, but she didn't deserve this fate of severe bodily trauma.

It was an odd counter thought... but not unpleasant.

Unfortunately, the two extremes gave her migraine-like symptoms.

"Why are you all here?" She blurted out of blue, and nonplussed he tilted his head. "I thought you'd get another mission by now."

"We've made it a habit to not take any missions if one of our own is recovering from an injury." He stated as if it explained everything.

SAC-1's brow snapped up. "Since when am I that?"

Hunter attempted to shrug, but regretted that action when it gave him stabbing pains. "You've been out for three days," He revealed, forcing his breathing to remain steady, "A lot can happen in that amount of time." 

A scoff in derision was an unexpected answer to this change of heart, his sinking at her seething irritation."So what, in order to be accepted into your squad one has to almost get themselves killed or lose a limb?" To which she'd done both. She was marred beyond repair. Lucky her. 

Such venom in her voice sounded plain wrong. To this point, Hunter had only associated the word 'bubbly' with her. 

So a ghost of a playful and sincerely kind smile came onto Hunter's lips, which startled SAC-1 - she'd never seen him smile.

"No, us stubborn outcasts just have to open our eyes and see that there are other good soldiers out there."

The fire in her gaze disappeared into a hopeful twinkle. "You think I'm a good soldier?" It's what she wanted to hear her whole life! 

He nodded firmly. "I do. Probably one of the best I've ever fought alongside with - I've never seen one soldier take on an entire seppie base on their own before." He actually chuckled. "You have a death wish, which means you'll fit right in."

The corners of SAC-1's mouth lifted at the attempted humor.

But... The sobriety couldn't be dropped just like that. "What if I don't want to fit in anymore though?"

Dejected, Hunter's voice was small. "You - you don't want to stay with us?"

"Well, why should I?" The Clone Agent rightfully huffed, becoming brave enough to speak out since it was clear he wasn't going to chew her out again, "You guys assumed I'd be a terrible soldier just because I hadn't been in a real battle, treating me with unfair contempt, and because of that I had to go above and beyond to prove myself and what did that get me?"

Both pairs of eyes unwittingly glanced at the missing limb. 

'You were the one to royally screw up, Sergeant Di'kut.' Hunter's conscience berated him. 

"I'm still very inexperienced when it comes to the warfront, so who's to say that you won't ship me back to Kamino if I mess up again?"

Hunter's mouth had pressed in a grim line, the Agent spouting straight facts. Force, he felt like the biggest jerk in the galaxy. 

"You're absolutely right, we haven't given you a reason to stay." He sighed in frustration, thumping his head back against the headrest, eyes trained at the blinding ceiling. "I'm sorry," He feebly repeated, "I really am, about how you were treated. I don't blame you for not wanting to stay."

He paused to collect himself.

Then to show he meant his next words with everything he had, she regained his full focus. "I know my word doesn't mean much to you, but if you stayed I promise we'd never bring up the deal ever again. It was a stupid and hypocritical mistake to treat you like property that could be thrown out, and we'd like to start fresh... If you want."

His speech apology used words that were like nothing she had ever heard used to describe her lowly clone self. All her life, SAC-1 was reminded of her place in the galaxy: Kaminoan property used to aid the Republic in their defenses.

But actually, instead of focusing on his strange wording, throughout the whole speech, SAC-1 searched his eyes. For the whole time she'd known him she always detected hostility in his features when he talked to her. Now, throughout this whole interaction, there'd been none. His whole demeanor was sincerely friendly now, and of course guilty. All the hostility was gone.

This made her say, "Oh who am I kidding, of course I still want to be a part of the Bad Batch!" Hunter perked up, and she decided to make clear, "But that doesn't mean I fully trust you. It'll take a while for that. I still don't quite believe you won't get rid of me the first chance you get. Your squad is very exclusive, and doesn't like outsiders."

"We all agreed that we want you a part of the team -"

"Even Crosshair?"

"What makes you think he didn't?" He tried deflecting, not confirming it but not denying it either.

"Lucky guess." SAC-1 retorted, recalling the snide remarks Crosshair made after her freak out. "I've proved I won't be a burden, and he still isn't nice to me."

Hunter opened and closed his mouth several times before finally admitting, "He's... Well, it's going to take some getting used to. Other clones don't treat us very well because we're different, so he has a hard time believing that you're not like them."

"He said that?"

"Yeah. But honestly even though he's kinda bitchy -"

"That's the understatement of the millennium." She repeated snidely, having a prior understanding of this word.

Another short chuckle escaped Hunter at her mockery. "- Once he warms up to you, he's the most loyal soldier you'll ever know. He'll still be crude, but you'll know he's just playing with you."

She hummed in acknowledgment, but her face fell as a thought dawned on her. "That's nice and all, but I can't allow myself to hope I'll even be allowed to stay with you all."

Except instead of this being said in her mind, it was actually said out loud, and Hunter's posture stiffened. "We won't let Nala Se hurt you ever again." He swore with a dark undertone in his voice.

She flinched. Potential punishments warranted for not one, but two slip ups flashed through her frightened mind. Pathetically she tried retracting her statement like with Commander Tano, but her sputters revealed the truth behind her statement.

And Hunter held up a hand to silence her. His face may have been thunderous but his words were meant to be reassuring if he'd been able to speak them - the medic returned before this hard conversation could be had with the fellow victim.

"The bacta tanks are ready." The medic announced semi-cheerfully, trying to diffuse the tension he sensed the moment he walked in.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

"That was the most uncomfortable experience of my entire life, and I've had half my leg sliced off." SAC-1 remarked up to Hunter with, arms moodily crossed as he wheeled her back to her room.

He had a certain lightness to his steps, cracked ribs now fully healed after four hours in the bacta tank. "You're the one who refused the sedative." Was his unsympathetic but teasing reply. He rather liked the fact that they weren't at odds anymore. Lessened his stress a great deal, as you can tell, so much that he really did want to make an effort at this comrades in arms thing. 

"Why haven't scientists created a sedative in capsule form?" Annoyed SAC-1 wondered, "I can't possibly be the first one to hate needles."

"Well, maybe you can be the scientist to do that." Hunter jested, turning into her assigned room. Yes, Miss Fancy Clone Agent got her own room. 

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm a soldier not a scientist." She retorted in a 'duh' tone, not realizing this was also a joke.

Hunter shook his head with a small, amused grin on his face. She turned out to be quite funny, even without trying.

He stopped her wheelchair at the foot of the bed under the window, then went and relaxed into one of the spare chairs that they'd 'borrowed' from the mess hall.

SAC-1 wasn't done complaining though. "The slimy texture made me want to vomit, and I felt like I was being swallowed alive by some gooey creature - there was several times I almost caved and asked for a sedative!" 

He lazily threw her a glance, his rather delightful sedative still wearing off, "But you feel better, right?"

SAC-1 sassily tossed a hand. "Yeah, yeah." Their heads turned to the door when they felt three people coming their way - Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker plodded into the room.

"Hey guys!" Cheerful Wrecker greeted them. "How were the tanks?"

"Slimy." SAC-1 disclosed with a shudder and a gagging noise.

Tech shared a secret questioning look with Hunter, the latter alert enough to understand his meaning and quickly nodded once to let him know he'd apologized.

To which Tech immediately lightened up, because his friend could stay! Wonderful! 

Wrecker laughed when plunking down next to Hunter. "Yeah, but you look a lot better!"

SAC-1 smiled softly. It was true, she looked a lot better. The cut over her right eye was completely healed and was like it wasn't even there, her ribs ached less and her leg was no longer throbbing, the infection gone, and a healthy color had returned to her cheeks.

Sitting down next to Wrecker, Tech held up his signature pointer finger. "Bacta may be gelatinous, but it is fascinating. Made up of a mixture of kavam and alazhi bacteria combined with ambori fluid and a type of barley known as Vratixia renanicus -"

"Those are a bunch of five credit words." Crosshair remarked under his breath, sitting at the desk chair and pulling out a toothpick.

"- it promotes rapid regeneration of organic compounds and can heal any type of injury." Tech finished, only acting unfazed by Crosshair's sarcasm.

SAC-1 sighed in defeat. "Yes, I admit I do feel better. But I'm still not looking forward to my next session tomorrow morning."

Three more presences could be felt outside the room - Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka walked into the room.

The Bad Batch - minus SAC-1 - habitually stood up from their chairs in respect.

"Generals. Commander." Hunter said with a curt salute that his subordinates copied.

"You're awake!" Ahsoka exclaimed in relief, bounding up to her and grasping her shoulders good-naturedly, and SAC-1's nod was accompanied with a genuine smile. "You look great!" She complimented, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed to be close to SAC-1.

"Hello boys." Obi-Wan greeted the squad, hands behind his back. "We came to check up on the health of Silva's liberator." He clarified brightly, smiling warmly at SAC-1.

SAC-1 was flattered they'd taken the trouble to see little ol' her. "I'm better since the bacta tank. The Kaminoans have given permission to have me fitted with a prosthetic after tomorrow's bacta session."

"That's great!" Ahsoka beamed. 

It was a surprising piece of news she'd gotten after emerging from the tanks, which made SAC-1 feel infinitely better about everything that had happened - she was going to stay with the Bad Batch! Why else would they go through so much trouble to fix her if they weren't going to continue using her? 

"You'll be pleased to know that Moralo Eval was found on Denon just like you said," Anakin informed her, "And he was arrested, so the Chancellor is safe."

SAC-1 lifted her chin proudly, but kept her words humble. "I'm glad to know I found the right information."

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement, then said, "Agent, after a soldier does something so valiant there's usually a medal or a promotion that comes their way, but we're not sure how that works with Special Agents."

"I'm the only clone in this new division, so there's really no set protocol yet, but I don't need a medal, sir." She shrugged dismissively. "It was really nothing."

"'Nothing?'" Anakin repeated in incredulity. "You took on an entire Separatist Base by yourself, and succeeded."

SAC-1 simply shrugged again. "Just doing my duty General - sacrificing my life for the greater good. It was what I was created to do." SAC-1 said automatically, as if it was pre-programmed... Which it was.

To cut the tense silence after her monotonous, self-depreciating words Obi-Wan stepped up to her and finally revealed his hands, which held a wooden box. "Well, I'm sorry to give you something you don't want," He opened it, and inside was a golden medallion with a purple ribbon, "But Chancellor Palpatine has asked me to bestow this upon you."

SAC-1's eyes became as wide as saucers at the sight of the shiny medal, gaping up at him. "That's a Chancellor's Service Medal!"

The Bad Batches' jaws dropped. Medals and ceremonies weren't really their thing, but they knew how much of an honor it was to receive this particular medal - it was the most prestigious one to earn, the highest honor.

Obi-Wan beckoned for her to take it. "You've definitely earned this medal, soldier."

SAC-1 looked down at the medal now in her palm, grinning like she had just won the lottery, which was basically the same thing for her kind! All in all, the 'ceremony' was very anticlimactic, and she understood why the Bad Batch didn't participate in these ceremonies. But just knowing that she had finally done something right and was recognized for it, it felt good.

"How'd you do it?" Wrecker eagerly asked when Obi-Wan stepped back, for the Demolitions Expert loved a good story that involved explosions.

Everyone became eager for details as well, so she obliged them now that the whole event had resurfaced in her mind. "It's really not that interesting of a story - it wasn't easy of course, and it took a lot of patience. I had to search for weakness or vulnerability in their security throughout my infiltration into the base. I was on my toes the whole time, but thankfully I have a lot of endurance. My vibrosword also helped my being stealthy, being able to swiftly take out any stragglers without raising the alarm."

Anakin hummed thoughtfully. "You sound like quite the stalking little wolf."

Ahsoka's eyes lit up as an idea came. "You know, on Lothal there's a name that means stalking wolf - Talla."

SAC-1 didn't quite catch on to her meaning. "And...?"

"That should be your name!" Ahsoka proposed enthusiastically.

Confusion seemed to become a constant emotion the Clone Agent felt since emerging from her sheltered life. "But I already have a name: SAC-1."

"That's your birth number, but all troopers give themselves actual names to express their individuality."

This information made SAC-1 blink in realization. "Wait, really?" She blindly pointed to each of the Bad Batch members as she connected the dots. "So, that's why he's called Hunter (because of his tracking skills) and he's called Tech (because of his exceptional technology skills) and he's called Wrecker (because of his dire need to destroy enemy property) and he's called Crosshair (because of his sniper skills)?"

Crosshair face palmed while Ahsoka confirmed her phycological breakthrough. "Troopers give themselves unique names based on their personality, their skills, or just because they hear a name they like and want for themselves."

SAC-1 nodded slowly, the same speed this new information was being processed about her fellow soldiers that went against everything drilled into her since infancy. "But we're Kaminoan property, so shouldn't we stick to the names - er, birth numbers given to us by the masterminds behind our very existence?"

Faces of annoyance spread across the room, but it was not directed at her. The Bad Batch, most other clones and the Jedi despised the fact that the Kaminoans treated clones like organic droids instead of real people. Hence allowing and using the naming system in their protocol.

"We're more than Kaminoan property - we're people." Hunter schooled her firmly. "We clones may not have the same rights as regular folk, but we're still people." Hunter gestured to himself and his brothers. "Giving ourselves names helps us feel somewhat normal." Tech, Wrecker, and even Crosshair made noises of agreement with that statement.

Pursing her lips, SAC-1 pondered this information for a moment, then hummed approvingly. "Well, I do like wolves, and stalking... the enemy, that is!" She added quickly. "That name is... I like it - it perfectly captures my profile!"

Ahsoka simpered and put a welcoming hand on her forearm. "Welcome to the fight, Talla."

SAC-1 - now Talla - grinned with shining eyes, liking better the sound of being called by that name than simply 'Agent.' "Thank you, sir. And I'm glad to see you so well recovered from the... incident."

"It's going to take a lot more than a blaster bolt to take Ahsoka out." Anakin remarked with a teasing sideways glance.

"And apparently it's going to take more than a bomb to take Talla out." Obi-Wan praised.

Talla poked her bandaged stump out and grimaced at it. "It only made me a cripple."

The perfect comforter for this issue, Anakin tried putting her mind at rest, "Don't worry, having cybernetics isn't so bad."

Her eyebrows snapping together as he pushed up the sleeve to his right arm, she was floored when took off the glove that covered his apparently droid-like hand contraption.

"Huh." She breathed, "I... had no idea you had a cybernetic hand!"

"That is because cybernetic technology is so advanced, it can functions as well as the real thing." Tech stated. "With a cybernetic leg, I am confident that you will be able to perform at the same level as before your dismemberment."

That was huge weight off. "Oh thank the Maker, I was afraid that I'd be decommissioned because of this."

"No, I'm certain you'll be slicing clanker heads for a long time to come." Ahsoka encouraged.

Talla nodded, then her head swayed when exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks, and covering her mouth a big yawn followered.

Obi-Wan shot Anakin a knowing look. "Well, we better get going. It's getting late."

Talla's eyelids seemed to weigh ten thousand pounds now and she struggled to keep them open, but straightened as best she could in her chair and drunkenly saluted in a respectful parting. "Thank you for visiting, sirs, and for the medal."

"You're welcome, Talla." Obi-Wan replied politely. "I hope you're up on your feet soon."

Her grin of response was lazy. "You and me both, General."

Once they were gone, Talla tried to wheel her chair to the side of the bed, but her strength had been wiped out from the day of treatment and eluded her now, rendering her completely helpless. Wrecker, who was unfortunately not the most perceptive man in the world, actually did notice her struggle and came to her aid before his brothers did, all of them hesitating to get that up close and personal with their new teammate.

With a gentle push she was in reach of the bed and, despite being in such a groggy state, knew she wouldn't be able to heave herself onto the bed by herself and looked imploringly up at the big lug, who obliged her. With such gentleness that you wouldn't suspect by looking at his huge frame, he gingerly took tiny by comparison Talla into his massive arms. When raised her from the wheelchair she gripped onto him as he carefully, carefully transferred her onto the mattress, to which immediately curled up on her side into a tight ball and conked out within seconds, not even stirring when Wrecker snugly tucked the blanket around her shivering frame.

Chapter Text

(DAY 8 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

"What is that?" Talla wondered with a raise of her brow as everyone faithfully stepped into the room bright and early the next morning, Wrecker oddly carrying in a mysterious crate on his shoulder and setting it by her bed where she was lying down after her scheduled 'dark-thirty' bacta tank session.

"It's your new armor the Kaminoans sent over!" Wrecker revealed excitedly, popping open the crate like a child eagerly ripping open a present from their parents and showing its contents to the groggy young woman.

The others made themselves comfortable in the spare chairs around the room, and Talla shifted the positioning of her bed with a press of a button, so she was able to sit upright. "Why did you bring it here? It's going to be another day or two before I can gear up again."

Wrecker still pulled a chair up to her bed and started taking out the various shaped pieces of white plastoid. "Well we gotta paint it like ours!" He said this as if it was the most obvious answer in the universe!

"Is that necessary?" Talla asked him, noncompliant, "Armor is just supposed to protect me from harm. Adding images to it just seems... redundant."

Wrecker paused, shooting her a clueless look, "Redun-what?"

"'Not useful.'" Tech clarified flatly without looking up from his datapad, happily tapping away.

"Ohhh!" Wrecker gave Talla porg-eyes, "But you're with us now, and we can't have ya looking like a boring reg!" The very thought made him wanna puke!

Now it was Talla's turn to be clueless, "Reg?"

Tech: "'Regular Clone Troopers.'" Tap, tap.

"Oh, so another nickname?"

Tap, tap. "Yes." Tap, tap, tap.

Talla made a noise of interest over this new fact she learned, filing it away for later.

Wrecker was relentless though with this weird face thing that seemed to work at wearing down her resolve, so she sighed reluctantly, "I really don't think I can make my armor like yours because I'm a clone soldier, not an artist. I don't know the first thing about painting."

"I'll help ya!" He assured her, "It's not that hard, jus' make it look awesome!"

Talla's expression was blank. "I don't know a thing about that either, Wrecker."

But pushy Wrecker was adamant that this was necessary ritual that needed to be performed in order to fit in with their squad's style, and that she'd thank him for this later - by the time they finished, she'd look so kriffing badass!

"An expletive that means 'tough, uncompromising, or intimidating.'" Tech helpfully translated again when asked, then again with expletive, "Words that can be used when angry, being playful or simply being in pain."

Well, Talla did want to take every advantage on the battlefield, which is the only reason she relented. Wrecker didn't mind though, as long as she didn't stay lookin' like a reg!

It took thirty minutes to paint all her armor charcoal black, but by then Talla still had no idea how to make it 'badass!'

"I know there has to be a ninety-nine on the pauldrons to show my division, but I really don't know how to make it 'kriffing badass!'" She lamented.

Across the room Crosshair snickered at her very first attempt at using cuss words which earned him a shove on the shoulder from his Sergeant. The sniper couldn't help it - she tried appearing angrier by using such strong language, but instead it was just a pitifully cute attempt.

"I'm not used to expressing myself because there's nothing to express! I'm a clone, I'm not meant to be unique, I'm meant to just follow orders and fight droids!"

These words once again made her squad ill at ease, but Tech saved the day. "I have images on my datapad of decorated armor from different clone troopers all over the galaxy, so perhaps you will find some inspiration from those?" He offered... as if taking candid shots of his fellow soldiers was just the most normal thing to do.

Despite still being very innocent, Talla blinked, feeling uncomfortable. "... Do these clones know that you have pictures of them?"

Tech nonchalantly opened the file that had thousands of detailed images of colorful, intricate, very personal armor decor. "No."

Talla gaped, looking to the Sergeant for reassurance that this was all another joke because this just seemed wrong.

He merely shrugged, disregarding his brother's impropriety, "He records everything - it's a hobby."

'That... really doesn't make me feel any better.'

Tech dragged his chair up to her bed and happily handed her the datapad, and with a guile ridden conscious Talla invaded her fellow soldier's privacy, flipping through various unknown images of them.

...But soon, that unease was replaced by an unfamiliar sensation coursing through her veins, a good feeling - creativity.

She was inspired!

Two and a half hours later her armor was complete with the help of Wrecker and even Hunter! who turned out to have an artist's hand, creating beautiful stripes and accents to her plastoid pieces, and she was quite happy with how it turned out and ended up learning another very important lesson about being a clone soldier - you didn't have to stick to the status quo of just being mindless carbon copies of a genetic template the Kaminoans created you to be. They, clones, were also people, just like Hunter said, with the right to decorate themselves in whatever way they wanted, which is one of the few freedoms they had to be brutally honest.

But that was just an unnecessary detail.

And, Talla learned it felt really good to be unique, getting quite a rush out of doing something outside the parameters set for her, and obviously the Bad Batch were the perfect ones to encourage and teach her such liberal thinking.

And another thing she realized, this was really the first time her and the team spent quality time together, and it felt... nice. It gave her a warm feeling in her chest that ended up tingling something in the back of her mind, as if maybe she had felt this way before, but nothing came to the forefront. While Crosshair was still 'salty,' even when silent, she focused on that fact that the other three were really trying to make her feel welcome and seemed to mean it.

So Talla used this time to ask a bunch of questions whirling around in her mind since the moment she had joined them.

"Why 'The Bad Batch?'"

"What does 'brother' mean?"

"What does 'kriff' mean?"

You can obviously guess the exact moment in which Crosshair decided to enthusiastically break his vow of silence.

And being across the room from him, Hunter couldn't launch himself at the Sniper fast enough before he, despite only having like, three seconds, painted a very detailed picture for the definition of said vulgar word to the innocent young soldier. Well, more innocent than young because she was, after all, physically and mentally twenty years old but still, Hunter had found her innocence a breath of fresh air after living with the filthy minded Crosshair and significantly-less-but-still-so Wrecker.

(Brief A/N: May I just clarify - there's no REAL textbook definition of the Star Wars cuss word kriff, but I find it on the same radar as the F-word and well... that word can have multiple meanings, some more graphic than others. And let's be honest, Cross would probably be the most vulgar of probably ALL the clones in existence)

Anyways, Wrecker answered the questions he could, and Crosshair of course, wanting to be 'helpful' gave his exuberant two creds, then Tech and Hunter would share responsibility of answering the heavier topics.

"What causes sensory overloads?"

"Why were your physical appearances altered by the enhancements?"

"Why do you hate outsiders?"

Just as Wrecker finished packing the painting supplies at exactly 1300, the clone medic came in and announced it was time to prep her for the cybernetics procedure.

A knot formed in her stomach at the thought of having to be put under anesthetics - needles *shudder* - and then being implanted with metal and wires and other various pieces of technology.

Wrecker kindly gave her shoulder a squeeze with his massive - but comforting - hand, and told her that everything would be fine, and 'How jealous he was that she was gonna be a cyborg!' which did ease her anxiety some, surprisingly.

Crosshair remained in his chair taking a fake nap, deciding he didn't want to be 'helpful' anymore.

Hunter settled for giving an encouraging nod.

And Tech patted her hand before she was whisked away.

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(SIX HOURS LATER)

Talla's eyelids felt like ten thousand pounds when attempting to open them. She was oh so incredibly groggy from the anesthetics. When she finally succeeded and her other senses awakened, a breathing mask was discovered on her face again, and her throat was oddly sore, but much to everyone's relief the Agent didn't panic. Through the dense fog in her brain SAC-1 remembered she was in the medcenter and not a lab, and just had surgery.

The slow deep breath taken in was magnified by the mask. Slowly her head flopped to the left, and through the haze she recognized her hospital room, and four blurry figures that each had their own unique physique.

"She's awake." Talla heard relieved Hunter announce, though it sounded distorted, and the Bad Batch boys minus Crosshair were immediately at her side.

"How ya feeling, Talla?" Wrecker asked softly down to her, trying to contain his massive cheerfulness at her returning to the land of the living so he wouldn't overwhelm her. Tech made sure to make him aware his loud tone could do so.

The loopy woman blinked lazily. "Who'ssstalla?" She slurred behind the mask.

Wrecker couldn't help but bark a laugh. "You are, duh!"

"... Oh."

There was several seconds of awkward silence as they didn't really know what to say or do around a person who was pretty out of it.

"M'leg feels weird." SAC-1 mumbled, a crease appearing on her forehead. A strange, cool sensation on her lower left leg made its presence known more and more after every passing minute.

"You've been given cybernetics." Hunter gently reminded her, startled at the capability he apparently had to do that with his voice. Amongst him and the boys, it was more 'tough love' that was doled out.

"You're a cyborg now!"

Wrecker was shushed by Tech

"Sorry." He whispered sheepishly.

Talla slowly nodded, flashes of what had happened the last few days coming back for the second time.

She couldn't shake the suffocating sensation with the mask on, and clumsily clawed away at it. Hunter, who was closest, delicately took over when she failed time and again, and she gave him a lazy smile in thanks when her face was freed. "How long have I been under?" She asked hoarsely.

"Five hours, thirty-eight minutes, fifty-two seconds." Tech stated after looking down at the timer on his datapad where apparently when they said he recorded everything, he recorded everything.

For the next half hour or so everyone waited around for the new cyborg to be released from the effects of the anesthesia, and when she was finally coherent enough to sit up with the help of Wrecker, she apologized for them having to wait around for six hours.

"Five hours, thirty-eight minutes, fifty-two seconds." Repeated Tech as if the universe would explode if they didn't get this detail right, "And we didn't, we explored the surrounding area around the medcenter and took in the sights, well Crosshair, Wrecker and I did because Hunter stood by the outside of the operation room viewport the whole time to observe the procedure and make sure you would be alright, never leaving your side once you were transferred back to your room."

The brainy clone received a toothy grin on Talla's end while Hunter found himself becoming, to his major embarrassment, sheepishly ruddy faced.

"You can't ever keep information to yourself, can you?" Talla teased Tech lightheartedly, though was deeply touched that the Sergeant stayed and she showed him her appreciation at his kindness through another genuine smile, but this only made him blush even more, so he tried to just shrug it off like his not leaving her side was no big deal.

'What the hell? Get a hold of yourself, Sergeant, it's completely normal as the leader to make sure your soldiers are okay! No reason to get all embarrassed -' 

'... But what if she thinks it's weird?' The other part of him strangely felt insecure about.

'She's doesn't! But even if she does, so what? Leaders watch over those entrusted into their authority. Nothing weird about that. Why do you care what she thinks?' 

Taking a breath to steady herself, Talla finally lifted the sheet covering herself to behold her new leg, and Hunter was shaken out of his strange, self-conscious trance when she gasped.

It definitely and understandably looked like a regular leg-foot was where her droid leg-foot should be.

"I... MY FOOT GREW BACK?!" She exclaimed, causing Crosshair, who was hunched in a chair in the corner, to face-palm, but she ignored this and tried wiggling her toes-

They did!

Tech held up his signature pointer finger that signaled the start of a TECH-TALK. "Actually, your cybernetics have been covered with synthflesh to emulate organic tissue."

Shaking her head, Talla recalled Nala Se had approved the use of the artificial technology so her body would appear unblemished. "Right! That makes more sense. But it feels like a regular foot!"

"That's because prosthetic replacements are connected to organic tissue via a complex synth-net neural interface -" Tech reached out and carefully took off the cover of her leg without asking which revealed the inner workings of her new limb, "- which provides you with sensation and control." He explained.

She became overwhelmed at the sight of the hundreds of tiny wires and parts, which Tech noticed. "Don't worry," He snapped the cover of her leg shut again... which was such an odd concept, "These past five days I have been collecting data from the medcenter on how to maintain cybernetics, and will teach you everything I have learned."

Seeing an uncharacteristically shy young togruta peer into the room, Hunter cleared his throat. "Uh, you've got a visitor, Talla."

Ahsoka appeared by Talla's beside, and they left to give them privacy, though Hunter had a slight hesitation to do so. This padawan was still very much a stranger. 

"It's good to see you, Commander Tano!" Talla greeted. 

"It's good to see you too." Ahsoka responded genuinely, putting a hand on her new friends shouldee... but her smile didn't reach her eyes, and even in her lingering groggy state Talla sensed that something was off.

"Is everything alright, sir?" She asked in concern.

Ahsoka's smile faltered, but she tried to cover up with a convincing, "Everything is fine."

"No there is something wrong, I can sense it." Talla pushed. "Did something bad happen? Did - did Moralo Eval escape?"

Ahsoka wanted to keep a happy face on, but just gave up and sighing heavily dropped her hand from Talla's shoulder to fiddle with the edge of her wrist gauntlet. "Last night, when we were walking back to the temple after visiting you, we were attacked by a sniper. He evaded capture, but that's not the worst part: he took out General Kenobi."

WOAH.

Talla's eyes bulged. "General Kenobi is... dead?"

Grim and grieving Ahsoka nodded, and causing Talla to feel anxious. She'd never been taught how to deal with sadness in another individual, and obviously not how to comfort them. She stared wide eyed at Ahsoka's saddened form for a moment, the gears turning in her head.

'When I was in distress, Tech and Ahsoka offered to help me because they are my friends.' Her mind recalled.

Talla tentatively put a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, having received physical reassurance but never giving it before. "What can I do to help ease your pain?" She wondered softly, hoping those were the right words to say.

To her great relief, a ghost of a smile came to Ahsoka's face. "The funeral is the evening after the next, at the Jedi Temple. If you're able to I'd like you to come - my other friend, Barriss, isn't able to, and I'd really like a companion... These sorts of things are hard."

Talla felt honored that Ahsoka wanted her to come, even if she was the second choice - she was happy to be considered at all! "I may not have known General Kenobi long, but he was kind to me even when I made a mistake, so I'll be happy to go and pay my respects to him. I'll ask the medic assigned to me if I can go."

Chapter Text

_________________________________________

_________________________________________

(DAY 9 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

The next morning, the Bad Batch brothers got to watch with high amusement as Talla argued with the medic over her plans to go to General Kenobi's funeral.

"My ribs have healed; my concussion is gone, and I have two legs again - I'M GOING!" Talla vowed, arms crossed in defiance since he had immediately said 'No' after her original, more polite request.

Girl definitely bounced from one extreme to the other alarmingly fast. 

Hunched over at his desk, the medic had been pinching the bridge of his nose so hard he was surprised it wasn't crushed by now. "SAC-1 -"

"Talla." It was still taking some getting used to, but the Agent was already fiercely defensive about her new name, and only wanted to be referred by that now.

He rolled his eyes, not liking being corrected, "Talla, you just had your procedure yesterday. You are going to have to learn how to properly walk again, and that is going to take some time and patience -"

"For a normal person, maybe, but I'm an enhanced clone, created to be superior to the average regs. If I can predict blaster bolts or lift ten-thousand-pound gunships, I'm pretty sure I can relearn how to walk within the next two days." She countered.

"It's going to take a lot more work than that." The doctor insisted. "You have to relearn how to stand, how to balance, and how to take steps -"

"And I'll work on it the whole next two days, like nonstop."

The doctor switched from the nose to massagimg his temple that was starting to throb, heaving another tired sigh. "Talla -"

"Look, Doc, I swear I'm not trying to be difficult, but my commanding officer and friend has just lost a comrade and mentor, and asked me to accompany her to the funeral for moral support - I'm going, even if I have to crawl there."

The medic threw his hands up. "Alright!" He made an up gesture with his hand, but with a smug upturn of his lips. "Let's see you try to stand up." 

Giving him a testy look, Talla did not break eye contact when swinging her legs over the edge of her bed. "I won't try - I will stand up." Gripping the short guard rails on her bed, she let out a breath to steady herself before heaving herself upwards.

When pressure was put on her modified leg, white hot searing pain knocked the wind out of her, she cursed, and fell back onto her mattress. Tears pricked her eyes, a bead of sweat had formed on her brow. But she was going to try again... Though that didn't keep her from taking a long pause to catch her breath so she wouldn't face plant on top of everything else.

From his place in the corner the Sniper had smirked, not at her agony but at her improvement in using cuss words. At least she actually sounded angry when yelling 'KRIFF' although it was still cute to watch the newb cuss. 

The medic bore a triumphant look, but Tech stepped in before he could call this whole scheme off. "Research says that some pain will be normal the first few times you put pressure on the leg due to the limb not being used to having the metal parts attached to your flesh, bone structure and nervous system, but the pain will go away the more you practice using the limb."

Hunter nudged him with his shoulder. "Maybe we should just leave this to the doctor." He murmured as he did not want to continue seeing Talla in pain. It tugged at his heartstrings. She didn't deserve this. 

"The pain will be there regardless of how long we push off the walking lessons." Tech factually pointed out.

Mouth pressing into a hard line, Hunter was forced to watch Talla in pain.

When Talla did finally recover, breathing in deeply through her nose and letting it out slowly through her mouth she stated firmly. "I'm ready to try again." Backed with a nod of affirmation, and retightened her grip on the guard rails.

Despite Tech's input Hunter still found himself stepping forward with his hands out. "Talla, maybe you should -"

"No Sergeant, Commander Tano needs a friend right now, and while I don't know much about friendship yet, I so think one needs to be there for the other when things are rough."

At least, that's what the holonet told her during last night's research sesh. A real life example might be that her squadron had been by her side since she was admitted into the hospitals care. While she didn't think that they were considered 'friends' yet, if the troopers who hated her guts five days ago were now by her side through this very difficult time, shouldn't she be even more so for Commander Tano, who actually was someone she considered a friend?

"What if things aren't so hot for you either?" Hunter retorted to her stubbornness, crossing his arms with a sour frown at this being the one time she didn't listen to orders.

Pursing her lips, Talla did ponder this deep question for a second.

"Well, then we can yell and scream about our problems together." She concluded, then motioned for him to step back. "Now please give me some room."

Hunter shook his head in disbelief, but he took his place between Wrecker and Tech by the wall.

Talla gave herself a couple of seconds to prepare herself, then heaved herself upwards.

Once again, searing hot pain. Her face screwed up, her arms shook, she no doubt created dents in the gripped bars, and all the air might as well been sucked out of her lungs.

"Just breathe through the pain." Tech calmly told her when the reg medic said nothing. "Breathe in slowly through your nose, counting to four."

Talla obeyed, willing to try anything.

"Hold your breath, counting to four... Breathe out through your mouth counting to four... Hold again, counting to four... now repeat."

Tech was right - the breathing kept her grounded, and when she was able to continue standing the pain gradually subsided with each passing second.

Eventually her arms stopped shaking.

Eventually she found herself supporting herself more with her legs.

Finally, the pain turned into a dull ache, and she was able to release the guard rails, a triumphant grin coming onto her face - she managed to stay upright on her own!

The doctor found it hard to hide his frustration at being proven wrong, a deep frown on his face. "Let's see you try to walk now." 

Talla put her left foot out and limped forward, grunting - the first feeble step brought back searing pain, but gritting her teeth she pushed for taking a full step-

Only for her leg to buckle.

She braced herself for the predicted face plant, but just before she hit the floor someone caught her by waist, then gently grasped her triceps and after she gripped his shoulders, he slowly raised her from the ground.

After making sure her leg wouldn't buckle again, Talla raised her head and found herself looking into the honey brown eyes of her Sergeant, their faces just inches apart. Their wide eyes stared into each other's for a few seconds... or maybe it was minutes... or hours? Talla didn't know and panicked when she felt a little flutter in her chest at the intensity his orbs possessed that were also clear windows into his emotions, which seemed to mirror her own - nervous and unsure.

Was her heart about to give out?! It certainly felt like it was. And why was her face heating up? She felt like she was going to faint.

Vice versa, Hunter felt the same exact thing.

Someone cleared their throat awkwardly.

Hunter blinked back his petrified state and immediately shoved Talla back and he would've scrambled away, but his abrupt action unsteadied the woman, and he was forced to come into close contact again when catching her by the arm so she wouldn't fall.

Hunter kept his distance as best he could under the circumstances, which Talla was thankful for because she didn't want to feel that weird sick feeling again, though he really couldn't do much with her gripping so tightly onto him.

Talla saw the medic sigh in defeat and rise from his chair. "I see I won't be able to convince you to take it slow." He came to her side that Hunter wasn't on and held onto that arm. "The Sergeant and I will hold onto you, and we'll start your physical therapy by taking slow laps around the room."

Hunter gaped, just wanting to go take a walk or something to cool down from whatever the heck just happened to him. "Uh, I think Tech is more suited for doctor stuff than me."

"You're already holding onto her, so you may as well help me out." The medic ordered more than suggested.

Well, Hunter felt EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE about this, but decided he still owed Talla that much. And he helped her take the first steps.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Talla was right in saying that she would progress faster than regular folk, not to mention abnormally determined. By hour five, she was able to walk on her own with only a crutch for support, and the medic's frustration was replaced with awe, for he had never had a patient recover so quickly - she really was a super soldier!

Talla didn't want to stop walking, loving the feeling of freedom it gave her after of being carted around, and suggested exploring the medcenters surrounding area for more practice. The rest of the Bad Batch were more than happy to wander, preferring that over sitting in her room doing nothing for hours on end and being bored out of their minds.

The smell of antiseptic never failed to make her nauseous so Talla was absolutely ecstatic to be outside, and even though there wasn't any plant life on Coruscant, it was still a sight to behold! She was amazed at the tall buildings and scattered fountains that surrounded even the humble clone hospital. It was exactly like the book she'd read. Tech had the delight of answering a bunch of questions more about the city planet, Talla not getting to finish it before being deployed, and she also made the Bad Batch promise to show her some of the sights when recovered.

But since they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the hospital grounds, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair quickly became bored wandering the same circle they had already explored, which Talla sensed through their little sighs and the charged silence that eventually came over them all. 

So, she graciously offered for them to go and 'Have fun!'

"Don't think you have to be at my side at every second - I'll be fine on my own!"

Crosshair didn't bat an eye. "Fine." He turned sharply on his heel and without a 'Enjoy your physical therapy!' or a 'Thank you for being so kind!' or even a simple 'Goodbye!' he marched off in a random direction - well, to her it was random. In reality, his beeline was towards a shooting range where his itch for action could be satisfied.

Looking between the retreating Sniper and the Agent Wrecker was torn, wanting to stay with Talla to help her feel better, but he knew what the destination of Crosshair's chosen path was and also wanted to shoot stuff up so much more than wander in circles for hours on end.

"Just go!" Talla insisted with a broad, encouraging smile despite Crosshair's rudeness.

So he gave her a pat on the back in parting that almost knocked her over, and Wrecker bounded after his little brother, yelling for him to wait up.

Since she really seemed okay with this idea, Tech also reached out but hesitated, because he was unsure of what to pat since she was massaging the shoulder, so he settled for a head pat that was awkward for both parties involved, then scurried after his brothers.

Leaving behind the antsy oldest brother with the newest member.

"Don't you want to go with them? I know literally anything else is better than walking in circles around the hospital with a cripple."

Hunter, who's hands were resting in his pockets and his disposition was overall very relaxed, merely shrugged in response to her encouragement. "Going to a shooting range isn't very relaxing - any chance I can get some peace and quiet, I take it."

Talla could tell he wasn't fully relaxed though, his flighty eyes revealing this, so she thought he was lying to spare her feelings. "But you liked the thrill that comes from your suicide missions, right? 'The adrenaline rush' as Tech called it."

"... Well, yes but -" God, he hated how shrewdly she was looking up at him. For the first time in his life Hunter felt so transparent. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy a little down time now and again." He had to clear his dry throat, "Gives my senses a break."

Talla was the one who looked uncomfortable now, the mask dropping with a searing throb from her leg. "... Speaking of giving enhanced senses a break -" Whipping her head around to look for a place to sit, her eyes landed on a bench and she hobbled over to it as fast she could, wincing because while the pressure was FINALLY relieved from her leg, the renewed throbbing was bordering on unbearable. She couldn't even stretch out the limb, Talla was stiff as a board to not aggravate it anymore. 

"Why didn't you say you were in so much pain?!" Hunter fretted when he caught up to her, seeing that apparent mask which hid her suffering drop into a twisted, pale face of agony, and gripping the edge of the bench Talla had to suck in a few sharp breaths to ground herself.

Her tone was strained when she finally did answer her CO's question. "I didn't want to annoy anyone with complaints."

Utterly dumbfounded, Hunter face-palmed so hard it could have knocked his head off if he had enhanced strength like Wrecker.

He summoned every ounce of patience he possessed and prayed it would be enough for him to not strangle her for her stupidity, "Talla there's a difference between blubbering like a child because of a little splinter in your finger, then telling someone that your chopped off limb that's just been implanted with cybernetics is giving you trouble!"

Well, turns out the amount summoned wasn't enough for him to not kinda raise his voice, but honestly was it uncalled for this time? This woman was UNBELIEVABLE!

CRAZY, even!

She still didn't budge on her point of view though, and slightly put off by his raise in tone Talla cursed her very existence for making her Commanding Officer so upset and wished she had just limped on and kept her trap shut.

So the conditioned Clone Agent changed her tone to positive and grateful, "Well... I'm very lucky to even be alive in the first place -"

Yeah, it didn't make him less upset. "But with our enhanced senses the pain that comes from a wound is just as amplified - I'm amazed that you can even stand so soon after the surgery, instead of being curled up in a ball and writhing in pain because they can only give you so much painkillers before it kills you! ... But I guess that you just lied to the medic while he monitored your pain levels so you would be allowed more freedom?"

"I just wanted to be self-sufficient, so no one had to be burdened with caring for me."

Hunter rubbed his hands over his face in exasperation and grumbled something even her enhanced hearing didn't pick up, but it sounded something along the lines of, 'You're unbelievable.'

"Sarge, I'll be fine!" Talla insisted, though her pale face, firm frown, and sheen layer of sweat on her face was a dead giveaway that she clearly wasn't fine, and he shot her a knowing look. "I will! I just... need a minute."

"What you 'need' is to get back to your room and rest." Hunter retorted.

"And I will, I just can't... Well... go right now... It hurts too bad." She admitted sheepishly when his piercing eyes showed that he could see the obvious signs of discomfort plainly written on her features now, even though she tried to hide it.

"Was it ever not in pain?" He slowly asked. 

"... No." She murmured shamefully.

*Heavy Sigh*

"We're not going to know how to help you if you don't tell the truth! And the medic isn't going to know how to treat you without knowing truth either! Which means you won't recover as fast, or as good, which will hurt you more in the long run -"

"Bad things happen when I complain!" She blurted out, unable to take his rant anymore, and all the words died on his tongue when he saw the fearful face replacing the maak, which was one he had seen before: when they were talking about Nala Se.

Now, it all made sense.

Well, Hunter had been looking for a time to bring up Nala Se again, not to give specific details that he chose to bury in the recesses of his mind, but to let this newly deployed Agent know she wasn't the only victim of that witch.

So, reaching up to massage the back of his neck nervously 'cause yes, he still became a little fearful talking about the clone scientist and her experiments, he shuffled up and lowered himself onto the bench next to the squirming Agent, and cleared his throat to make sure his voice was steady. "Look, I want you to listen carefully, alright- "

At his uncharacteristic mumble, SAC-1 dared a look at him out of the corner of her eyes and found him hunched forward with his elbows against his knees, eyes distant and trained on his wringing hands, "You're not the only one to be experimented on by her, Talla."

It felt like the wind was knocked out of her all over again, but this time from a different type of pain, and she wisely kept quiet as he wasn't finished and wanted to get it all out before he lost courage, "Me, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech - we were all subjected to the... 'endurance training' and the stupid Anti-Trauma De-Programming that we couldn't tell anyone about because 'If the Jedi found out, all our cloning scientists will be locked away in jail and we would not be able to produce more soldiers for the GAR, and the Republic would lose the war - do you want to shoulder that responsibility?"

Reciting the words ingrained in his mind made Hunter want to puke up his lunch.

'She even used the same excuse with them?' It was both liberating for Talla to know someone else experienced this exact treatment, but also very, VERY distressing.

"But since there were four of us to choose from to satisfy her -" Hunter scoffed darkly, "'-scientific curiosity,' it was evenly spread out so..." He suppressed a shudder, "I can't even imagine what she did to just one test dummy."

After a few beats of silence, he managed to meet her wide-eyed gaze with a steely one of his own, to show he was dead serious about every single one of his next words, "But I promise you: you're safe now. She can't reach you now that you're out in the field, we are definitely not sending you back to Kamino, and our squad sort of has this pact: if Nala Se does try to come after one or all of us ever again, we blast that kriffing long-neck off the face of the planet, consequences-be-damned - understood soldier?"

Talla couldn't manage more than a feeble nod to show she heard what he had to say, then a really awkward and tense silent minute followed.

Gaze eventually returning on his twisting hands, Hunter suppressed the feeling of nausea that talking about Nala Se always did to him despite the stupid counseling sessions she so lovingly provided to ironically help them move on from the trauma she had created in the first place. Tech's learned skills usually helped, but some days were better than most, as to be expected. Hunter just wished he could forget.

Talla on the other hand was finding it difficult to process his confession and think of a reply that didn't make him more uncomfortable than he had become over the course of the conversation, but the swirl of emotions within her made her indecisive as to what would be appropriate.

Relief, curiosity, fury, denial, anxiety, sadness, KRIFF it was like her brain was being pulled in a hundred different directions at once and a headache was well on the way again.

In a moment of clarity, the Agent sensed his own whirling emotions by an elevated heart rate, body temp, twitch of his facial features as he tried to maintain composure, and deduced that Sergeant Hunter was experiencing the same thing as her. It was hard, apparently, to speak of these things, even with those you knew understand yet wouldn't report you. 

So, Talla diffused the tension altogether, knowing right off the bat too that stuff like this... you just didn't want to talk about it at all, and she hesitatingly put a shaking hand on his shoulder, giving a slight grimace when he was as rigid as a wooden board.

His head snapped up upon contact, but she gave the best smile she could under the grim circumstances that was their shared traumas, "Feel like getting a drink from the cafeteria? Wrecker smuggled up a bottle of a beverage called 'soda' to my room yesterday, and I took quite a shine for it. Figure we could both use one now."

Relief flooded the Sergeant's body. Talking so openly about things, hard subjects or not, was more Tech's thing... Hunter wasn't quite there yet -

He breathily chuckle. "Sounds great, but only if we take them back to your room so you can rest. You're gonna find that this'll be the only time you're ever gonna be able to truly kick back and do nothing."

Rolling her eyes, on the inside Talla was secretly pleased at the thought of putting her aching cybernetic foot up.

And, also, she was secretly pleased to know she wasn't the only one to suffer at the hands of Nala Se. It made her feel less crazy, seeing someone else who despised her 'justified' actions, and made her now certain that it actually was a wrong thing to do to another living being.

Talla had no idea how to move forward, and the conversation certainly didn't take away all the negative side effects to her trauma, not even all the skills taught to her in those counseling sessions working one bit. But to know she wasn't alone in this torment and that she didn't have to conceal all emotions or even actions that weren't blindly following orders and rehearsed words of respect, and to know that she didn't have to fear her squadmates or fear they would ship her back to Kamino...

It was a nice weight off her shoulders, and for now it was enough.

Once that hard subject was out of the way, conversation flowed more easily between the Clone Sergeant and Clone Agent.

Second place in the Reserved Manner Competition, Crosshair being the reigning champion since the day he popped outta the tanks, Hunter actually found that he liked talking with someone who carried on most of the conversation so he didn't have to try and think up of something interesting to say, though he didn't know why it was easier to do this with Talla then with his own brother Tech. There was just something about Talla he couldn't quite put his finger on...

It certainly couldn't be because she had a nice smile. And how her eyes lit up when taking in new knowledge. And how exuberant she was in expressing herself. He couldn't call all this as somehow ATTRACTIVE in his eyes because it'd be WRONG to think about her like that, him being the leader and her being a soldier in his squadron and all.

Talla, on the other hand, was just happy that she and the Sergeant got along now! Another person to answer her infinite number of questions, but with simple, more straightforward answers. She found that sometimes she preferred that over long rants with large words needing to go through translation in her mind.

Chapter Text

(DAY 10 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Thanks to a proper dosage of painkillers, and a good rest/exercise/bacta tank ratio, Talla found she was able to go to the funeral at the Jedi Temple the next evening just as requested, able to properly get ready on her own - aka, SHOWER - and even put on her blacks and new armor all by herself, an over-joying discovery!

Being clean elevated Talla's mood back to nearly the same level of sunshine before the accident, and smiling brightly she looked in the mirror one last time to don the medal she had earned for the formal event, proud to get it only after one assignment. She'd like to see Nala Se question her usefulness now, even in Talla herself did secretly question her really deserving it too.

She lightly brushed a hand over her meticulously tied back hair to make sure it was presentable, before picking up her helmet and exiting the room only with a simple braided crown, all she knew what to fancily do with the medium length locks she had.

Hunter would be escorting her to the Jedi Temple since she had no idea where anything was located, and he sprung for an air taxi so there wouldn't be a need to walk for miles and miles with the risk of Talla being unable to make the trip entirely. He was casually leaning against the wall of the hallway, arms folded with fingers tapping against his arm in a rhythm he only knew.

She appeared in the hallway in all her glory and... He was unable to look directly at her, finding anything and everything around them apparently more intriguing. 'Oh... I guess I find her attractive.' He alarmingly admitted to himself, at first flustered by the realization, then quickly became defensive and flustered... Also at himself. 'So what?! It's normal and fleeting and doesn't ever mean anything cause I can never do anything about it - I always get over it.' Hunter cleared his dry throat. "You ready to go? The taxi is waiting." He snapped impatiently, not waiting for a response and shoving off. 'You never do learn how to handle these situations, huh di'kut?' 

Talla simply nodded, deciding not to question his peculiar actions, although she did briefly consider the theory that perhaps he suffered from a temper like Nala Se claimed she had. Or maybe there was still some lingering frustrations over her actions despite his heartfelt apology? She hoped not, though it might be halfway valid. 

Unfortunately, Talla wasn't able to climb into the taxi herself, and Hunter had to hold her helmet with one hand and grasp her free hand with his to help her lift herself into the taxi. As hokey as it sounded, the kind touch of hands sent tingles down his arm, making him quick to release her once inside to stop it. Usually smooth Hunter clumsily climbed in next to Talla, blindly handing her the helmet once she had settled in her seat.

"Thanks." Talla said with a smile, feeling odd but glowy. She certainly felt a little warmth in her heart when Ahsoka and Wrecker expressed physical reassurance, and definitely did now with Hunter. This was going to take some getting used to, people not laying a hand on her to inflict agony. 

"No problem." Hunter mumbled back, willing the heat on his face to go away. 'Get a hold of yourself!' 

Talla's thoughts became occupied with taking in the sights, cruising through the skies to the Jedi temple. She turned her head this way and that way to see EVERYTHING as they flew over this part of the city, her stray hairs whipping in the wind. Hunter had to fight the urge to grip into the back of her belt so she didn't fall out of the open-air speeder, something he truly feared by her leaning dangerously over the edge to peer down at the city life. There were multiple lanes all around the airspace, each level having vehicles of every variety going in so many different directions, and they weaved through hundreds of skyscrapers, each one having its own unique architecture.

Talla made Hunter promise again to take her sightseeing when she was better, and he gave her the same deadpanned threat he gave Tech every time he begged to explore: ''If you wander off, I'm puttin' you on a leash.'' It was a tease of course, at least, she hoped it was, but it got the point across nonetheless: "Don't wander off, I hate scrambling all over a foreign place looking for a grown-ass (wo)man."

It took half an hour to reach the massive Jedi Temple, and Talla's eyes widened at its size when descending upon it. "For simple magic wielders, that place is pretty fancy." She remarked offhandedly.

Hunter raised a brow at her, "'Magic wielders?'"

"That's what they are, aren't they?"

He shook his head, "Their force wielders."

Face scrunching, she made a jerky gesture with her hand, "Isn't that the same thing?"

Hunter shrugged, "In my experience working with the Jedi, their powers are very different from magic. There's no spells or potions, they just have a special connection to the invisible energy around us, and it somehow gives them these incredible abilities I've seen in the last year."

"But that doesn't make any scientific sense." Talla contradicted.

The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement, and her heart did a little flutter because he'd never really smiled at her before. "You sound a lot like Tech, and I'm going to tell you the same thing I tell him - not everything can be explained by science."

Talla found herself too astonished to respond - the more she learned of the galaxy, the more it baffled her.

The taxi pulled up to the giant staircase that led up to the temple, and Hunter climbed out first to help her out, but was quick to spring apart from her once Talla was steady.

She zeroed in on the hundreds of massive steps leading up to the temple, and sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I thought this through very well."

"You don't think you can make it?" Hunter asked, and just the thought of her being in as much pain as she was in yesterday made some agitation return.

Talla saw a cloaked Ahsoka appear on the steps, and attempted to sound positive... for his sake, apparently, because this whole 'losing-a-limb' debacle was too much for him. "Well, I certainly will be testing that theory to the max tonight."

The event in itself was expected to be sad, yet Ahsoka was beaming when she reached Talla. "You're up! And walking!" She exclaimed.

Talla grinned from ear to ear, then she and the Sergeant saluted before she looked distastefully down at her metal crutch. "Hobbling is more like it."

It was Ahsoka's turn to be concerned. "Will you be able to make it up the stairs?"

Hunter gave Talla a sharp look out of the corner of his eyes, trying to remind her of her promise to be honest about her condition from here on out, but she blatantly ignored it. "Absolutely!" But sparing the HUGE STAIRCASE another glance, her confidence faltered. "... It just might be slow going." She warned sheepishly.

Ahsoka wasn't annoyed in the slightest though, retrieving the helmet Hunter kept a hold of. "It's still early, so that's fine - the funeral won't start until after sunset."

Talla was flooded with relief that she wouldn't be rushed and turned to the perturbed Hunter, "I'll comm you when I'm ready to go." Was her unshakeable resolve of a parting, feeling confident enough with the Sergeant that he wouldn't send her back to Kamino because she refused to obey his orders this one time - she absolutely did not want to let her friend down, who also happened to be her CO above Hunter so really, he could not make her leave if he so tried.

Thoroughly communicated that he wouldn't be able to convince her to get back into the cab, Hunter gave a terse nod in goodbye, but Ahsoka was more kind about his feelings. "You're welcome to attend the funeral, Sergeant Hunter." She offered. "I'd hate for you to be bored for the next few hours." Though a funeral was no party either. 

He grunted in disinterest, "I appreciate the offer sir, but these events aren't really my thing." He hopped back into the cab seat, having enough decency to add, "I'm very sorry about your loss though, and, I won't be bored - there's plenty of things to do in the city." When the cab ascended, he gave a short two finger salute in goodbye.

"He's not a social butterfly, is he?" Ahsoka commented to her companion with hilarity very much evident.

Talla did laugh a little. "He's gruff around strangers, but once he warms up to you, he's quite friendly in his own stoic way!" Then she sobered, knowing the reason she was here was to provide comfort and companionship to her friend, not force her to be happy. Hesitating, she placed her free hand on Ahsoka's shoulder as the padawan had done to her so many times already. "How are you feeling?" She asked in the softest tone she possessed. 

Ahsoka's bright smile dwindled, but there was also, strangely, no agony in her eyes. "Obi-Wan was a good friend and mentor, so naturally I feel sad that he's gone. But he's now one with the Force, like we all will be one day, and I will celebrate his life instead of grieve over the premature end of it."

... Interesting perspective on the matter. "Oh - well that's good!" Talla's eyebrows snapped together uncertainly, "I think. I really don't know. I'm not experienced when it comes to death, so I spent the whole night researching 'How to help a person who is grieving the loss of a loved one -'" She shrugged in embarrassment, "But if you're not grieving then..."

Ahsoka's smile returned. "I certainly appreciate your research, and I'm happy you're attending the funeral. Just by being here, you're helping me."

That brought back Talla's sunshine, and she motioned her head to the stairs. "Shall we? Who knows how long it will take for me to climb?"

"How are things with them?" Ahsoka asked during their cautious ascent, referring to the Bad Batch. 

"Well you were right about once I proved myself, they all warned up to me!" Talla practically cheered. But a touch of sourness reappeared. "Except Crosshair. He still doesn't like having me around for some reason - but I'm going to keep trying!" She shrugged, "And besides this, and the fact that the Sergeant has been hovering around me since the accident, everything's been great!"

"What do you mean by that?"

The floodgates opened, having to hold this all back because she didn't want to sound ungrateful, "He won't leave me alone for even a second, and asks a hundred times during the nine-hour visiting hour period, 'Are you hungry?', 'Are you in any pain?', 'Do you need anything?', and even though I prefer this nice, attentive Sergeant over the prickly cactus one, I'm quite frankly getting annoyed at this other extreme and don't know how much more I can take, or how to tell him to ease up - I don't want to make him upset with me or offend him."

Ahsoka hummed thoughtfully, putting the dots together. "Sounds like he's feeling guilty over what happened to you."

This conclusion didn't sound rational at all. "Why? Sneaking onto that base was all my idea - Tech doesn't even feel guilty and he consciously made the choice to help me sneak away. Sergeant Hunter was barely an innocent bystander in all this." 

"Yeah, but his mind has probably twisted the whole thing and he's convinced himself that your accident was his fault because he's the leader of the squad and he failed to protect you."

Confident Talla scoffed. "I don't need protection."

This drew a short laugh from Ahsoka too, "Very true, but squadron members are supposed to have each other's back, and he didn't do that. What he's experiencing, it's almost like survivors' guilt and believe me, in war, that's a very common feeling."

"What is survivors' guilt, exactly?" Talla wanted to know everything about this so she could work out a way to help him get past it. 

"When a person feels guilty because they survived a life-threatening event that others didn't survive." Talla's eyebrows knitted. They couldn't work well together if he was like this. This sounded like something really bad and self-destructive. "In this case, perhaps Sergeant Hunter knows he should have been there to back you up but he wasn't and you almost died. And perhaps he feels like he should have been there to either save you from the blast or at the very least have been by your side and injured himself. He came out of this mission unscathed because he was ignorant while you lost a limb and received some other serious injuries by sacrificing yourself because no one would listen to you."

So being rational about the accident, so soon after it happened, was actually not something he could do? "That... Sorta makes sense, I guess. But how do I get him to see he shouldn't feel guilty because this was actually all my own doing?"

"Well, for starters don't minimize his guilt - it's completely normal for a leader to experience this." Ahsoka definitely learned many times over, "But really, it's something he has to work through on his own, you can't force someone to see your point of view, even if it's correct or not. In time though, I think he'll get it. Personally, I've had to do the same thing numerous times since the war started, so speaking from personal experience I know it's doable."

Talla nodded enthusiastically, filing away this knowledge on top of many others, then berated herself for making the conversation about her instead of Ahsoka, "I thought it's supposed to be me supporting you, not the other way around."

Ahsoka's smile in response was sheepish, "It's my peacekeeping tendencies. Those are hard to turn off."

Their journey up the stairs took triple the time it would take for a normal person to climb, but Ahsoka always reassured Talla that it was fine when her apologies interrupted the conversation thereafter. Yet, they still had plenty of time to kill before the funeral, so Ahsoka asked if Talla wanted a tour of the public places of the Temple, remembering her eagerness to see Anakin's cruiser.

Of course Talla enthusiastically replied, 'Yes!'

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

When sunset was upon them Talla and Ahsoka, with sober expressions on their faces, entered the Pyre room, the latter pulling up the hood of her Jedi robe. There was a small group of humans and nonhumans surrounding the pyre where Obi-Wan's body laid, but on the short bleachers all around the chamber there were numerous cloaked dark figures giving off an ominous presence. Talla got goosebumps since they just stood there. And did nothing else.

Ahsoka led them to a viewing place between an elaborately dressed woman with a similar skin tone to Talla's plus a brown hair/eyes combo, and a Jedi-robed Kel Dor man.

It wasn't until just before the service that one more cloaked figure entered the room, but this time Talla recognized him to be, at alarming levels, a troubled General Skywalker. General Kenobi's former and only padawan, Talla had learned. With rigid strides he walked up to the foot of the pyre, and that's when the funeral began.

Talla bowed her head respectfully as a bald, dark-skinned Jedi Master gave the short eulogy. "He is one with the Force, and it is our job to remember that we will, in time, also pass on. We are luminous beings, but our bodies are temporary vessels. And in time we shall all find ourselves here. I ask for a moment of silence - to remember, and to move on."

Her eyebrows furrowed. Talla couldn't help but shift her eyes upwards to observe the eulogy giver, then past him all the Jedi in the room. They all appeared the same... emotionless, except for General Skywalker. She could feel the anguish radiating off of him. 

This speech though, it contradicted everything she researched about death, and what General Skywalker's dark aura was. There was supposed to be grief after the death of a beloved person in your life, but why did this man say that they had to move on right this minute?

Besides Skywalker, there was one other person in this room who didn't seem to do as the speaker suggested: another elegantly dressed woman, this time a blonde human who was standing several people past Talla. Her sobs echoed through the silenced room, and Talla deduced that she and General Kenobi must have been close, and it tugged at her heartstrings. She couldn't imagine losing someone close to her, not that she was close with anyone to begin with.

Ahsoka lifted her head to look up at the Kel Dor with a crestfallen frown. "I'm worried about Anakin." She quietly commented. "He hasn't said a word since it happened." Ahsoka and him peered at angry man in question. 

Talla copied their subtle sideways glances. "I can sense that his grief is consuming him." Talla observed sadly, and those in the close proximity who heard her were startled at the troopers... Jedi abilities? She ignored it. "Him and General Kenobi were closer then student and teacher, I presume?"

"Almost like brothers." The brown-haired woman to her right confirmed with curiosity for this trooper written all over her. "Anakin was his padawan for many years, ever since he was a little boy."

Their conversation was cut short when the pyre slowly lowered into the ground, the doors clanged shut over Obi-Wan's body, and a bright white beam of light emitted from its center, making sensitive Talla squint. Anakin's mood darkened tenfold within milliseconds, face so terrifyingly twisted in rage and this concerned her. A man who she was told by gossipy Ahsoka held such incredible power... She shivered at the thought of what he'd do to the sniper who took Kenobi out if he ever found him, zen Jedi or not. Hopefully those peacekeeping Jedi values would kick in right before the potentially painful and slow execution. 

The short, straightforward funeral was over. The guests talked quietly amongst themselves, non-Jedi openly expressing sadness and regret over the event and Jedi choosing to remember all of Obi-Wan's good deeds. In the midst of their conversations, various people wandered up to find out who this woman in Clone Trooper armor was, asking her many questions about where she came from and why she was created and what her special skills were for the GAR. Because of this, she met important political figures - Senator Padme Amidala, who mistakened her for a Jedi after her comment about Anakin, other Master Jedi, such as Mace Windu who curtly praised her for her victory on Silva... And the Chancellor himself!

Talla was quite rattled when the face of the Republic sent one of his bodyguards to retrieve her, and not knowing how to show her respect, she ended up clumsily putting on her helmet and gave an awkward salute when they were introduced.

His tone was all praise though despite that unseemly introduction. "You are the brave soldier that I owe my life to."

"I just did my duty, sir." Talla answered modestly, as she had been taught to do when anyone gave her praise for her work - it was what she was designed for, so it was nothing special. Just facts.

"Don't be so modest, SAC-1." He chuckled good-naturedly, "I wouldn't have had the late General Kenobi give you that medal if your actions on Silva were insignificant."

Talla smiled bashfully, though he couldn't see so. Plus he made a show of frowning mournfully over talking of the deceased. 

Unbeknownst to her, he did prey on her want to be praised and general starstruckness, on the outside placing a hand over his heart and feigning absolute sincerity. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and look forward to seeing what else you're capable of."

Talla's smile faltered when she saw something flash in eyes, a glint of something eerie and menacing that sent a chill down her spine, but just as fast as it came it was gone. "Uh, thank you, your excellency." Was her monotonous reply, and she was glad he couldn't see her widened eyes. She stiffly bowed her head as he acknowledged her thanks then glided away.

Once his back was turned and she was snapped out of whatever just happened, a wave of tiredness was finally acknowledged. Leaning against her crutch she clicked open the cover to her comlink to type in the sequence of Hunter's frequency, touching the side of her helmet. "Do you copy, Havoc 1?"

Not one second later she heard, "I copy Havoc 5 - you doin' alright?"

She was too exhausted to roll her eyes at his anxiety, "I'm ready to go." Was her groggy, almost slurred response that told him to drop everything and come get her.

"I'll grab a taxi. Hang tight."

She hobbled her way around the room back to Ahsoka who was speaking to General Plo Koon, whom Talla met earlier. "Pardon the intrusion, sirs," She apologized when they noticed her presence, and focused on Ahsoka, "But I'm rather fatigued, and think I should go. I've contacted Sergeant Hunter and he's on his way."

"I'll walk you out." Ahsoka offered, and Talla saluted to the General before they exited the Pyre room.

Once they were alone, Talla did ask the question that had been bugging her since the non-heartfelt eulogy. "Sir, is it normal for Jedi to be emotionless?"

Ahsoka became incredulous. "We're not emotionless, we just don't let our emotions dominate and cloud our minds." She heartily explained. "Everything we Jedi do as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy is motivated by compassion for others, and compassion is an emotion."

"But still, you're not allowed to grieve? That seems, I don't know... wrong, and I say that with the upmost respect!"

Thankfully, her Commander was not insulted, instead choosing to use this as a teaching moment for her sheltered companion. "Grieving comes from attachment, which is forbidden for a Jedi."

Instead of being fascinated as usual, Talla's jaw dropping made her look horrified, "Why?" The Agent had grown, in a way, attached to Ahsoka, liking the female company that didn't involve experiments or put downs, and even the guys had grown on her... Why was that wrong? Having such attachments made her life feel fuller, more worth it than those four years of intense training and mistreatment despite the new issues she'd experienced.

"Attachment feeds into the fear of loss and greed, which leads to jealousy. Attachment is selfish, a shadow of greed and thus a path of the dark side of the Force."

"The dark side, sir?" Talla repeated unsurely.

"The dark side is one of two ways of channeling the Force. The dark side is greed; the fear of change and the inability to let go. By holding on to things, one can rebel against the will of the Force and become angry and hateful, which in turn leads to suffering. That is the dark side of the Force."

Talla blankly blinked. Ahsoka might as well have been speaking gibberish. "I'm afraid I still don't understand, sir."

Ahsoka was not annoyed though. "It's okay. I know it can be hard for a non-force sensitive person to understand."

Talla nodded slowly. "Then I guess we should talk about things that the both of us can understand... were Duchess Satine and General Kenobi close?"

Sadness clouded her features and Ahsoka sighed. "Now that is a very long story, and I only know my master's version of it."

Talla tried listening to the story as best she could, especially since that apparently there was this thing called 'love' that a sentient being could feel for another, but the closer they got to the exit the more dazed she became, and her leg ACHED. She ended up just nodding a bunch of times and said 'uh-huh' to Ahsoka's story. She managed to make it down the steps without stumbling too many times or face planting, and was able to say a proper goodbye to Commander Tano.

The young Jedi desired them to be on more relaxed terms though, "You can call me Ahsoka, you know."

"I can't call my commanding officer by her first name, sir, it would be disrespectful!" Talla immediately rejected.

"But I'm not just your commanding officer, I'm your friend!" Ahsoka laughed, "Friends call each other by their first names."

Talla directed her gaze to her boots for a moment, deeply conflicted because this went against everything expected of her. "I suppose so." She hasn't even called Sergeant Hunter just Hunter. 'Nala Se would definitely not approve of this.'

The taxi pulled up, so Ahsoka put a hand on Talla's shoulder. "See you later, Talla." She said experimentally. 

Talla raised her head and hesitated, then thought 'What the hell?' "Bye Ahsoka." Nope, she just couldn't deny the rush that came from doing things outside the parameters set for her by that long-neck, which now seemed confining. Whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, or that the Bad Batch was a good influence on her or not, it was all a matter of opinion.

Beaming Ahsoka merely waved goodbye to Hunter before beginning the long trek back up into the temple.

Talla staggered to the side of the cab as Hunter, wrought with concern, hopped out and took her helmet. Not to mention her felt extra guilt when he beheld her sluggish actions and pale face covered in a sheen layer of sweat. "How bad is the pain?"

An audible wince as she took his steady hand with her trembling one was enough to let him know it was too much to put into words. "Yeah, I walked waaaayyyyy too much," She grunted, having a hard time climbing over the side of the taxi into a seat even with his help. She had to reluctantly admit, "Maybe the medic was right in saying I was taking things too fast."

"I'm sure the life-long trained medical officer has waited his whole life for such validation from a know-it-all patient." Hunter remarked sarcastically, yet she was too tired to be embarrassed. Talla clumsily scooted over for Hunter to give him his seat back, but only made it to the middle seat, and the cab took off right after he settled back in. "Tomorrow, just take it easy, alright? Even if your released." He practically begged.

Talla tried to minimize his concerns with a reassurance but couldn't hold back a big yawn before having to rest her heavy feeling head against the cushiony back of her seat, which confirmed she was close to conking out after the days strenuous activities. "Fine." She was only able to mumble, through lidded eyes gazing upon the twinkling skyscrapers of the city around them. The enchanting view of dim lights, the sway of the flying taxi, the soft tunes coming from the radio, it made Talla nod off against her will. At first she weakly fought, but before she knew it, she found herself leaning against something warm and sturdy and she gave in to the pull of sweet unconsciousness.

That warm and sturdy thing turned out to be a Hunter, who wanted to jump over the side of the cab entirely when both her arms wrapped tightly around his rigid one, and she cuddled up right against him.

Now, Wrecker had a terrible habit of trying to cuddle his brothers, especially when he was feeling blue or had a nightmare, so Hunter was not totally, completely touch-starved. But this was physical touch from a halfway outsider. A woman, no less. One who apparently could turn him into a complete puddle of nerves with just one look or touch, like right now. And this touch wasn't of the hand-on-the-shoulder variety which flustered him despite the fact Talla was definitely not aware of her actions. Hunter was being cuddled and his mind screamed. 

One glance down at her peaceful features though made him attempt to relax, to accept this uncomfortable situation because he did owe her. A step further, he tried not to jostle as they sharply flew around corners. 'That'd make her more comfortable right?' He prayed she didn't hear the pounding of his heart.

It was the longest, most stressful thirty minutes of his life, AND HE BLEW UP SEPERATISTS BASES FOR A LIVING!

And instead of being relieved from this wierd situation at the hospital, he was faced with another situation that made him unbearably uncomfortable: He didn't want to wake her up, for she looked so peaceful and she was so tired - But she had to get to her room! The taxi driver grew impatient because Hunter just dumbly sat there in his cab despite having arrived at their destination, wondering what the heck he should do. The driver grumpily cleared his throat at the Sergeant, forcing Hunter to make a split-second decision.

He ever so gently pushed Talla off of his shoulder, and man she was completely out of it, not stirring despite having enhanced senses that made deep sleep difficult.

Quickly he climbed out of the taxi, chucked credits at the moody driver's head, and stepped around to Talla's side. Giving an unenthusiastic sigh, he slid his arms under her knees and behind her back to carefully scoop up her sleeping form, to which she immediately curled into his warmth with a happy sigh.

Though the clunky armor jabbed his flesh, Hunter felt his heart flutter. 'Maker, you have to get a hold of yourself Sergeant, she's just your SQUADMATE!' His mind chastised, heat rising to his face again.

Happy that he was paid the driver decided he would help Hunter by so kindly handing him the helmet and crutch.

And with his arms full Hunter carried Talla through the lobby, a lift, and two hallways to reach her room, the whole time wishing the sleeping woman in his arms... he'd just punched away like he did to Wrecker. This was not worth the humiliation. 

Chapter Text

(DAY 11 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

With a content, sleepy sigh Talla awoke in her hospital bed... wait, HOSPITAL BED?!

She shot up from the mattress, whipping her head around in confusion, seeing the same four white walls that had been her prison since the accident.

'Wasn't I in a taxi?!'

'When did I get here?!'

'How  did I get here?!'

Her armor and boots were sitting in messy piles on the counter across the room, and looking down Talla saw she was just in her blacks now.

As if he was creepily standing by and waiting for her to wake up, the medic marched in at that moment. "Good morning, Agent Talla! How's the leg?" He bid too cheerfully, leaning on the edge of his desk and crossing his arms ever so loftily.

She blinked to try and get her bearings. "Uhhhhhhhhh... fine." Upon moving though, an acute burning sensation making her suck in a sharp breath through her teeth. "Okay, maybe a little bit sore."

That triumphant smirk on his face made her want to punch him, the look giving her the same effect as the Chief Medical Scientists victorious demeanor did, "I'd think so - you WAY overdid it yesterday, and now you'll suffer the consequences." His tone was irritatingly condescending because he had no tolerance for clones who made more trouble for themselves even after his helpful suggestions that would minimize suffering, especially one who had all the best treatment available to her unlike all his other brothers, yet it was so carelessly rejected. 

"I just need some painkillers and I'll be fine." Talla stated defensively, not complaining anymore so he wouldn't have any more opportunities to talk down on her. By herself she swung her legs off the bed, pressed her mouth in a grim line to stop another wince from come out of her mouth when the affected foot touched the ground. "Do you know how I got here? I don't remember coming back last night." She blatantly changed the subject, seeing his almost jubilant look grow even more if it was possible. 

The medic hated what she tried to do but hopefully wouldn't have to deal with her childish defiance for much longer. "I suppose you fell asleep in the taxi, and the Sergeant decided to carry you back up here instead of waking you up." He enlightened the Agent, reaching behind him to pick up the bioscanner and approached her for an examination without bothering to notice Talla's cheeks burning.

"Oh." She recalled being really tired, 'But I actually fell asleep?! And the Sergeant had to stoop so low as to carry me back here?!' Talla would never be able to look him in the eye again.

A florescent blue light scanned her leg, and while the results shocked the medic it also made him sigh in relief. "Well, surprisingly you're not experiencing any repercussions from overdoing it, so you can leave today as scheduled."

Embarrassment gone in a flash, she instantaneously perked up. "Really?"

The medic went to the cupboard and pulled out her tunic and pants that Tech had brought yesterday, plopping them in her expectant hands. "Get dressed, then we'll discuss your after-release care." He left to give her privacy, locking the door behind him.

Her heart fluttered in anticipation. Talla yanked on her clothes, almost toppling over when she tried to shove her leg down into the leg hole with too much enthusiasm.

She was being released! And would still be able to keep fighting!

Just shy of a week ago, Talla thought that she was going to be returned to Kamino, but thanks to her cybernetics she wouldn't be decommissioned!

With a bright smile she let the medic back in, too excited to even care about the fact she was back in the itchy robes all clones were forced to wear. Admittedly, during the non-stressful times a tiny part of her was envious her team was able to wear regular, comfortable clothes they called 'civvies.'

The medic was quick to turn her attention back to him, putting his hands on hips and towering over her so he gave off a superior air that she would hopefully respect and therefore heed to his commands. "Remember: just because you're leaving, doesn't mean you're fully healed. Take it easy for another three days minimum to get used to your cybernetics." He handed the new cyborg a small care kit for the droid leg  and jabbed a finger in her face. "Don't repeat your mistakes yesterday and the day before yesterday by overdoing it."

Talla rolled her eyes impatiently. "Understood. Anything else?"

He huffed, "Well, since I know that you'll still walk more than recommended for someone in your condition, I'm giving you prescription strength symoxin for the pain you'll undoubtedly inflict on yourself." He pressed the bottle into her hand, and she was ashamed of her inability to remain idle for long, yet he wasn't about to give her sympathy. "But, and I cannot stress this enough, absolutely no missions until you can walk without any side effects, do I make myself clear?"

Wanting to ease the tension, Talla grinned playfully, pocketed the drugs and care kit, and recited with a mock salute, "Sir, yes, sir!" To which he rolled his eyes, prompting her to sober up and sincerely say, "Thank you. For everything."

He gave a snide chuckle that did bruise her feelings a little despite deserving it. The medic merely snatched up the sack by the door that held her armor. "I think I've gotten more grey hairs from helping you this last week than in my entire medical career since the War started." Was his stiff 'You're welcome.' But then an amiable pat her on the shoulder assured her all was well, and he led her out of the room to where the rest of the Bad Batch had arrived, and were waiting in the hallway to escort her back to the Marauder. "Keep her outta trouble, boys." Were his parting words, tossing Wrecker the bag and marching off to handle his next patient who would hopefully be less stressful and more compliant.

Talla was right in thinking she'd be unable to meet Hunter's gaze in embarrassment, and by the looks of it he was experiencing the same unease, so she just focused on the momentous occasion. "Let's get out of here, I'm tired of this place." She declared, a bright smile matching her equally gleaming eyes.

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It felt... weird being back at the Havoc Marauder II. 

This ship, in the short time she'd been on it, held only bad memories for Talla. Walking through the interior after everything she'd already gone through since her deployment not that long ago, it was definitely hard to suppress what had transpired in the brief time her squadron hated her. The feelings of anger, frustration, hopelessness, and fear that tore her apart. The arguments, the total disdain for her existence, and the consequences for the mistakes she had made.

With the help of the crutch, Talla shuffled into her quarters, and the figurative cloud over her head became more pronounced, casting so much more doom and gloom over her overall psyche when reminded how she had not even allowed herself to unpack, all her worldly possessions still in their crates, neatly stacked in the front corner of the room.

The Talla - or rather, SAC-1 - before the accident was a clone soldier with no hope it seemed. And a small, insecure part of her still feared rejection despite her proven worthiness, for she still had so much to learn.

Amongst her scan of the empty, impersonalized space something on her bed that hadn't been there before caught her eye.

With a burning curiosity she hobbled over, leaned on her crutch to be able to take it in her hands. The strange item was a rolled-up tube of paper, and its contents revealed itself to be a large white, painted portrait of the symbol for Clone Force 99.

She had no idea who had given this to her or why, until Wrecker shambled into her room and asked timidly. "Ya like it?" Her confusion was now directed at him. "It's a poster." He bashfully shed light on about the object, rubbing the back of his neck apprehensively, "It's one I had back on Kamino, but I thought maybe you could hang it up in your room... thought it'd help ya settle in better."

Because of the bad memories that had come back full force, SAC-1 was briefly astonished that he did something so nice for her, her mentality reverting back to a week ago. 

Then Talla recalled how Wrecker treated during her hospital days and even before the mission with nary a cross word. She felt a surge of happiness, and beamed up at him appreciatively. "I love it!" His bashfulness was completely forgotten, and he grinned from ear to ear, mentally giving himself a high-five. She regarded this thing called a poster with a touched expression. No one had ever bestowed a gift upon her! "This will definitely help me settle in." She agreed, and held it out for him. "Will you help me hang it up?" She instructed him to hang it over her bed, and while she didn't appreciate the dirty boot prints on her comforter since he hadn't bothered to take them off, Talla still admired the art with shining eyes once he finished, feeling a wave of warmth explode in her chest. 

SAC-1... TALLA was a part of this tight-knit squad, and he wanted to make sure she knew that.

"This poster has inspired me; I need to get more stuff for my room!" She tapped her chin thoughtfully, "Perhaps another poster but of a droid, so I can practice my shooting and knife skills over there, and a new mirror obviously for over there; maybe a bedside table...?"

Wrecker was practically jumping up and down, and couldn't contain his excitement of going out to buy stuff, was ecstatic at her getting excited about going out to buy stuff. "Maybe we can convince Hunter to hit the market district!"

The both of them rushed to Hunter in the computer room-. 

But the responsible one of the Bad Batch sprung up from his chair and immediately shot them down with an "Absolutely not! The medic told us to keep you out of trouble." He reminded Talla with his hands on his hips.

"You promised to show me the city after I recovered!" She threw back at him, pointing the end of her crutch at him.

"You're not fully recovered yet." He tried saying with great patience. "You saw what happened yesterday - Commander Tano practically had to carry you outta the Temple." He conveniently left out the part where he did carry her, thank the Maker.

Didn't mean she was gonna back down though, "Hence the reason he prescribed me strong painkillers." Talla retaliated. "So I could exert myself and then take away the pain later."

"That technically is not how it is supposed to work!" Tech piped up from the work desk across the way, this being the one time he was aware of what was going on around him during his tinkering.

Talla huffed in disappointment.

Hunter felt slightly bad because he hated being cooped up like this too. But his will to keep her away from unnecessary pain was stronger. "Look, just take it easy today and tomorrow we'll see where you're at." He compromised. "Enjoy the downtime because once you're fully recovered it's back to work and I'm sure we won't have time off for a while." Though truth be told he wanted to lock Talla up in a padded room so she wouldn't get hurt again.

At the flash of guilt in his eyes, Ahsoka's words ran through her head, reminding Talla that Hunter was suffering just as much as she was, just in a different way. "Sir, yes sir." She conceded with a sigh, albeit bitterly, when it was clear he wouldn't yield.

So she found herself plopping down on the lounge, completely bored out of her mind while the rest of the crew found ways to entertain themselves - Crosshair was spot checking his gear in his room since they'd be on a mission soon enough; Tech was fiddling away at the workbench on some project; and Hunter merely went to his room to lie down and enjoy the quiet before it was back to their blaster fire and explosion filled lives.

Wrecker on the other hand mimicked her actions but instead of complaining like she was mentally doing, he clicked a button on the holotable and a 3D-colored projection appeared.

To her bemusement it wasn't a communication. It looked to be prerecorded and had a melodious background noise and scenery and people who weren't acknowledging them, rather conversing amongst themselves. Colorful lights from the recording danced over every surface in the vicinity. "What is this?"

"Holovids - or more specifically, Holodramas or Holomovies - which are forms of fictional entertainment." Tech informed her, walking over to (shockingly) take a break from whatever his next project was, though datapad was still in hand. "You can view them on holoprojectors, holoscreens, or in this case holo-entertainment tables."

Wrecker pressed buttons on his end, ones that flipped the channels. "Now let's see what's playin'."

"What's the point of holovids?" Talla wondered up at the brainiac sitting next to her.

"Fun!" Wrecker alleged for him. "It'll definitely help with being bored!"

Talla watched with interest when Wrecker found something interesting, stopping on a holodrama that portrayed an apparent graphic murder. "Oh, this looks good!"

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Hunter was enjoying the blissful silence, being a very rare occurrence with this squad. Crosshair wasn't kidding when he told Talla that they didn't get time off often, they were honestly lucky to get downtime once every month or every other month. The small breaks in between missions, spanning from mere hours to sometimes a full week or two, they didn't count because it was filled with anticipation for their next mission that could be given at any moment, so you couldn't truly relax. Being the army's top squadron definitely had its sacrifices.

Hunter wouldn't be lying if he said he enjoyed having nothing to do this last week while Talla recovered. It recharged his batteries, and gave his enhanced senses a break. But there were some undertones of stress that never went away, because of everything he had brought upon their newest squadmate, and sprinkle in a little interest for her even though he was not sure if it'd be inappropriate or not, well, he felt like the galaxy's biggest jerk and worst Sergeant in the history of Sergeants. Not to mention, it felt wrong to rest while the war raged on. 

The tension of the week had taken its toll on his body and mind, and rightfully so he'd been drifting off into a light slumber when loud shouting came from the common area made him ready to spring into action.

"NO, THE MURDERER IS OBVIOUSLY THE BUTLER! HE'S CREEPY!" Wrecker clamored.

Tech shrieked back, "NO NO NO, YOU'RE WRONG! IT'S THE MAID - SHE DOES NOT HAVE A GOOD ALIBI!"

"BOTH OF YOU ARE WRONG!" Talla roared, "THE MURDERER IS CLEARLY THE COOK! HE PUT POISON IN THE FOOD!"

"OH YEAH? WANNA BET FIVE CREDITS ON IT?" Wrecker boomingly challenged.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, BUT YOU'RE ON!" Talla loudly concurred.

Hunter sighed deeply, sadly a regular occurrence with him, and grudgingly heaved himself upright in bed to go diffuse the argument, but paused when there appeared to be no more shouting, only low voices chatting.

So he relaxed back onto his mattress, and his eyelids fluttered shut -

"WHAT?!" Wrecker exclaimed dramatically. "NOOO -"

"HA! I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE COOK!" Talla whooped triumphantly. "PAY UP!"

"HOW COULD YOU FIGURE THAT OUT WHILE I COULD NOT?!" Tech yelled madly.

"WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP!?" Crosshair screeched from his opened barrack door.

Everything escalated from there.

Hunter was on the fence about going to break up the fight, thinking he should let them sort it out for themselves for once, but when he heard a crash his eyelids snapped wide open and he flew out of bed to the common room. He found Wrecker in fisticuffs with Talla on the floor, Tech to the side shouting at them to stop, and Crosshair at the door of his room furiously shouting at them all to stop shouting!

"Wrecker, let her go!" Hunter bellowed, completely misunderstanding the situation.

Wrecker dodged a punch from Talla. "SHE ATTACKED ME!"

"YOU WON'T TO GIVE ME THE CREDITS YOU OWE ME!" She launched herself at him, and he grunted when his back slammed against the floor, and she raised her fist again.

He caught her punch. "YOU CHEATED!" Talla was shoved off with such force she landed several feet away, slamming against the base of the holotable with a grunt.

It took several blinks to clear away the black dots clouding her vision before Talla caught her bearings again. "DID NOT!" She roared, and was about to tackle his legs but Tech and Hunter caught her by the arms mid-attack.

"Both of you, STOP!" Hunter commanded, helping yank a struggling Talla onto the couch. Him and Tech kept their grips her arms to stop her from ripping Wrecker limb from limb, and somehow was miraculously able to keep her leg from becoming a casualty in the assault.

"Tell him to pay me!" Talla demanded, glaring piercing daggers at Wrecker, wrenching her arms free and crossing her arms expectantly.

Hunter looked pointedly at his brother and used his Sergeant voice. "Wrecker -"

"She cheated!" Wrecker claimed. "How could she know who the killer was? She'd never even seen a holovid 'til five minutes ago!"

"How could I possibly cheat?" Talla asked incredulously - it was not if at she could predict the future!

"You were on your datapad during the show! You coulda looked up who it was!"

"That's preposterous!" Talla spat, "I didn't know you could look up these Holodramas on the HoloNet!"

"Would you both quit shouting?" Crosshair hissed, rubbing his throbbing temples.

"Then how'd ya know?!" Wrecker continued in the same blaring tone, ignoring twitchy-eyed Crosshair's warning.

"I've been created with a superior mind and been trained to pick up on even the smallest details!"

"But Tech is too, and even he couldn't figure it out!"

"That's enough!" Hunter cut in, his own head starting to ache. "Tech, disable the holotable - no more holovids for anyone."

Wrecker and Talla gaped at him with pleading eyes. "That's not necessary!" Talla insisted.

"I say it is." Hunter retorted.

"Aw come on Sarge!" Wrecker groaned. "We're just havin' a little fun, right Talla?"

Talla bobbed her head enthusiastically. "I've never had more fun in my whole life!"

Crosshair looked between them with his mouth agape. "You were just trying to kill each other!" That was a normal day around here for the four brothers, but she was an outsider. The rules were different, right?

Tech held up his pointer finger. "Playfully, I might add."

"Really Tech?" Hunter asked incredulously. "You enjoyed this?" 

Tech shrugged. "Entertainment is entertainment."

At that, Hunter reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alright just... next time try to be quieter. Some of us still enjoy that."

"Not as much as I like having someone strong enough to fight back!" Wrecker claimed, walking up to Talla and playfully punching her shoulder, which only succeeded in flinging her back onto the ground with an 'Oof!' And sending Hunter into a frenzy alongside his clumsy little/big brother.

"There's never going to be a moment's peace ever again." Crosshair lamented in despair, sharply turning and trudging back into his room, wishing he had a door that he could slam shut to further convey his exasperation for his squad apparently made up of kriffing children.

Chapter Text

(DAY 11 w/ THE BAD BATCH - EVENING)

Once again and to his vast frustration, Sergeant Hunter had failed to forewarn his new charge who was completely inexperienced with, well, basically everything that didn't involve battle tactics.

Yes, he had revealed to Talla that him and his brothers were also victims of that damned long-neck who tried excusing all of her terrible deeds with the phrase 'It's endurance training' as if it kept her dirty slate clean. But in reality, they were nothing more than torture sessions, which left behind physical damage of course but even deeper emotional and mental scars that could not be fixed with a bacta patch.

What he didn't do was warn Talla of these deep emotional and mental scars and their side effects, severe symptoms of what Tech discovered soon after they were freed from Nala Se's clutches: 'Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.' Ugly PTSD'S even uglier sibling and it was damn near impossible to handle in a healthy way without some form of professional help. He believed that they had this trauma disorder.

Well, being lowly clones only bred for warfare and clearly no insurance or money to pay for it, they didn't have any access to professional help, so their brainy brother Tech came to the rescue! The best he could, anyways.

After their symptoms first appeared soon after their deployment, and he saw the effects that unhealthy coping mechanisms had on their overall performance, Tech spent all his free time over the next couple of weeks holed up in his bunk of the Havoc Marauder I researching, researching, RESEARCHING their symptoms to discover what their condition specifically was and then after, the best skills that could help them cope with the trauma healthily, and filed away EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL of what he had learned. 

Then he implemented these skills into their lives, whether they liked it or not. Though it definitely became easier once the leader of the squad got on board with his scheme towards improved mental and emotional health that would, obviously, improve their performance on the battlefield. It wasn't near as effective as proper treatment would provide them, but it helped keep them stable and compared to what they were a year ago, being stable had done them a lot of good. Believe it or not, Wrecker didn't get that scar because he was clumsy with explosives - that was his area of expertise, after all - but being unstable had made him unintentionally so. Since then, no close calls of that severity had happened ever again because of mental strain. Sure here and there a blaster bolt got too close to the heart or a stab wound almost made the victim bleed out, but those accidents were no longer because of instability, just the touch of bad luck that came around every so often when they worked with regs.

Anyways, Hunter, who apparently couldn't think straight around Talla, did not warn her about any of the afflictions coming her way, or the ways to handle those fierce, hellish cycles... one of them being the horrifying night terrors.

Still recovering, her stamina was still pretty low and despite it being a new day Talla ended up dozing on the couch even with the booming holovids on, tucked away in the corner and curled up the best she could with her cybernetic leg sticking straight out on the cushions so the tender flesh and touchy synth-nerves wouldn't be aggravated by unnecessary movement. Even though it was an awkward position, like her fellow ship mates she had learned to sleep in the most undesirable locations, so an awkward positioning on a cushy couch wasn't exactly a hurdle she had to climb over, and the woman looked so peaceful as she drifted off into the dream world that Wrecker had even so thoughtfully turned down his holovids from ear-splitting to blaring.

But pleasant dreams could quickly turn into a living hell you couldn't escape until your mind said you could, a person in the midst of a night terror too dangerous to try and wake up, especially so with one who had enhanced strength.

The batch of men could only watch helplessly as her initial gasp that caught Wreckers attention turned into short quick intakes of breath followed by small whimpers which he immediately recognized as the first signs of the same night terrors he'd seen every one of his brothers experience alongside him, and called out to them for backup. By the time they had rushed into the common area her breathing turned erratic, borderline hyperventilating coupled with some twitches and other frantic movements as she tried to fight back at whatever demons were swirling around her mind, unable to break free from it. And they couldn't do anything, not wanting to risk Talla further injuring herself by fighting back if they tried to shake her awake, and none of them wanted to be on the receiving end of a sucker punch that could land them back in the hospital with a bashed in face at the very least.

The average night terror lasted five to ten minutes Tech had informed them, and the minutes dragged unbearably on and on and on as if they were hours. Being the Sergeant of the squad, it should have been Hunter who kept everyone calm, but he had to physically be held back by Crosshair so he wouldn't spring into action to try and shake her out of it to end her suffering, risking his health thus risking the sanity of the squad.

Crosshair, his impromptu second in command, knew he could keep the freak outs at bay for only so long, something he realized after one close call that almost took Hunter away from them permanently. But the Sniper, not being emotionally attached to the woman in any way yet, was able to maintain his cool despite her agony, thus helping Wrecker to stay calm at least, and the most empathetic of the bunch who couldn't be held back by anyone thankfully stayed put.

Finally, finally Talla shot upright with a final shriek, skin flushed and beads of sweat dotting her face. They flinched, making themselves tense and ready to defend themselves if need be. She unsteadily whipped around, crazed eyes darting this way and that, trying to make sense of her surroundings, the ragged breaths never letting up.

The medic of the squad took a cautious step forward with his palms held up to show he meant no harm and took a stab at trying to get her to calm down. "Talla." Her crazed eyes snapped in his direction, still too dazed and wound up to process it was just him. She looked ready to attack, whatever hallucinations her brain had created still tormenting her. "You're not in any danger." Tech's tone was more pragmatic than soothing, but sometimes that's what you needed to cut through the chaos.

It took a few tense beats before it seemed to click that NO, she wasn't in any danger, but the realization wasn't exactly a major relief. The vividness of the dream that felt so real caused Talla such true terror, that she actually thought was left behind on Kamino which made her collapse back onto the couch and rake her fingers through her dampened hair, latching onto handfuls that could have been ripped from her scalp if any more force was applied. Her voice was so small it was practically inaudible, "What happened?" She asked between breaths that were coming out in gasping huffs and puffs. 

Tech was closest, so he was able to barely catch her hushed question and approached her hunched form with his signature finger raised, sitting down on her left, "You just experienced a night terror."

Putting such a name on the 'experience' didn't exactly ease her mind either. "Why?" She could only sputter out in a whine.

"It's unfortunately a symptom of the Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder you undoubtedly have -"

He may as well have been speaking Wookie with her mush for brains. "What?"

He wanted to recite every little detail he had accumulated of the developmental trauma disorder. "Complex PTSD comes in response to chronic traumatization over the course of months or, more often, years. This can include emotional, physical, and/or sexual abuses, domestic violence, living in a war zone, being held captive, human trafficking and other organized rings of abuse -"

"Or in our case being experimented on." Hunter interrupted shortly, having finally been released from Crosshair's restraint, and sensing how Tech's ramble, though at it's very beginning, was already sending her brain into overload. He came to her rescue and found himself by Talla's other side. "Because of what happened to us, we have these... bad side effects."

"Bad side effects you should have already been made aware of." Tech stated curtly, earning him a dirty look from his older brother.

"Kill me for wanting her to stay blissfully ignorant for a little while longer." Hunter growled in return to the slight.

"Ignorance will only make Talla suffer more in the long run because she will have nary a clue as to how to handle her symptoms -" Tech's statement was backed up with a sharp gesture to her trembling form that had started rocking back and forth, "- But adequate preparation, on the other hand, could give her some skills to function halfway properly under these less-than-ideal circumstances."

Hunter could hear the 'Is that not obvious?' in his tone, and when it was put like that of course it was that so plainly obvious, and of course he should have warned her instead of letting her live in a fantasy world where her nightmare was behind her after she left Kamino... but he just wanted her to stay cheerful. Shockingly, after his initial disdain for it, he now found himself liking that cheerfulness she had and didn't want it to go away, even though the logical side of his mind also knew her innocence would not benefit her on the battlefield and was a sure-fire way to get her killed, and would be worn away bit by bit anyways.

Not to mention, he plain hated talking about what happened to them as cadets.

Even when Hunter was actually trying to help her, he just seemed to let her down, as if nothing had changed after her near-death experience, and that wasn't a good feeling for a leader.

"Why am I still reacting like this to the experiments?" Talla whimpered, "You promised it would never happen to me again, and I believe you, so shouldn't that be enough to not react like this to a stupid dream about them, or even a thought?"

So without much of a choice - Tech could and would go on a five-hour rant about this plague - Hunter had to try and explain this whole trauma disorder in simpler, more straightforward terms that wouldn't send her into another downward spiral. Dismissed Tech went to brew her a mug of calming Jeru tea, wishing with all his might he could unload all the helpful knowledge he had stored away but instead his leader wanted to handle this because apparently he could 'Explain it in simpler terms.' Pfft. He was already doing that, but far be it from him to get in the way between a guilty Hunter and his wronged party.

Wrecker and Crosshair decided to find other ways to occupy themselves, the former feeling awkward observing such a deep conversation, the latter hating this weird burning in his chest at seeing their new member still suffer at the hands of the longnecks - it totally wasn't protectiveness! And both just did not want to relive their own experiences if Talla asked some curious questions.

Hunter knew in instances like these, a matter-of-fact approach would unfortunately not make this distressed soldier calm down. He was very inexperienced with this more compassionate approach to matters, and had only done it occasionally like this with his brothers, but Hunter channeled everything he knew about being soft. He had promised himself to be more encouraging and attentive in a more traditional way, and that what was he was going to do. "Experiences like those - trauma - it doesn't go away like that." Hunter started, trying to conjure up as much gentleness as he could while under the force of having to openly discuss the extremely touchy subject 

"Why??? I'm not even there anymore! It's all in the past now!"

"It doesn't work like that." Hunter repeated bitterly, remembering he also wished it to be so, still did it from time to time. "What happened, what she did to us, it's caused injuries... but not just physically, mentally and emotionally too. It basically destroyed your mind, Talla, and Tech can explain it more once you've calmed down, but it won't go away because you're not on Kamino anymore."

"So I have to live with this for the rest of my life?!"

Side note - it killed Hunter that Wrecker shaved his hair off, even though he needed to because of his scarring that created odd patterns of baldness he didn't like. In response the Sergeant, the vainest of them all, the defender of all thing's hair related in this family, made certain the rest of members' hair always looked it's best. Talla, now a part of this squad at least, her knuckles were turning white from her hands tightening around her fistfuls of hair when becoming more distraught over this revelation of her new life, so the lover of locks prevented her from creating two bald spots on her scalp by powering through his standoffish nature and gently tried to pry her hands free, using such a sweet-tempered nature that shocked him because it rarely made an appearance even among his brothers, let alone with a woman he'd just met over a week ago.

It was strange, but he told himself it was because of the guilt over how he had treated her those first days, and nothing else.

Her hands were successfully freed without too much damage to her tresses, but to his chagrin Talla still wanted to be latched onto something as her freak out continued, needing something stable to ground herself with, and since his own steady hands were now within reach, they  became the culprits. His teeth gritted in a wince, her enhanced strength making his bones painfully crackle in her grasp but from experience with the other person in his life possessing enhanced strength, he knew what to do to get her to ease up. With his brother, who would latch onto him with both arms after a night terror like the Sergeant was his lifeline, Hunter would have to rub and pat him on the back soothingly to appease his demand for comfort, and it always worked in liberating his bone structure.

In this instance, featherlike strokes over her knuckles with the pad of his thumb combined with soft reassurances that while yes, she had to live with the trauma symptoms for the rest of her life, he and Tech would teach her how to manage them to the best of their ability so the complications wouldn't rule her life, and that even though they didn't have the professional help they obviously needed, what little tid-bits Tech researched really did alleviate enough of the symptoms so that they could enjoy some aspects of their war-torn lives.

Even so, it was a hard bite to swallow: Nala Se's treatment had left permanent scars on her overall psyche, and they'd never go away, and trying to forget what happened would only hurt her more. Talla would forever be subjected to this hellish cycle, and could only hope these skills would decrease the frequency of incidents like today.

She couldn't find her voice now, Hunter's efforts to keep things simple and easy to process only working to a small degree, but Talla did want to show him that she was grateful for the skills he did promise would help, finding a little shred of hope inside because her trust in him had grown over the last few days - when he wronged someone, he did everything to make it right, and then some. It was an honorable quality despite the annoying undertones, and showed he was a good man.

On holovids they portrayed a person warmly hugging another to express gratitude, no words needed.

Well, it was a step further than a hand to the shoulder, but the anxious woman already had his hands, and he hadn't shoved her away yet, so after swiping away some unfallen tears it only required minimal shifting to lean in and lock her arms around his middle in a light, sideways squeeze.

Without much of a choice, the want to make her feel some solace in this difficult moment overruling his reserved nature, Hunter had to begrudgingly accept her demand for comfort in the form of physical touch.

Except, the traitorous part of his mind knew this was her first hug. And she sought if from him specifically and not from anyone else, even Wrecker, the king of cuddling, who was just ten paces away in the kitchenette. Hunter was exasperatingly pleased with this fact, and it inclined him return the embrace, albeit unsurely.

But he told himself it was only because he owed her, and wanted to make her feel better in whatever way possible.

And to his great relief, it did, if most of the tension leaving her frame as she curled up closer to him was any sign. Hunter also denied that he, who always preferred keeping to himself, actually didn't mind her hugs, liked them even and the warm fuzzy feeling that came along with it, telling himself that this was just a practical way to comfort this distressed soldier and nothing more.

Hunter only accepted the fact that Talla seemed to trust him now, even after telling him it would take a long time to earn it after what he did. That reduced his guilty feelings in spades. 

Maybe he hadn't screwed up this time.

:D

Chapter Text

(DAY 13 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

It took two days for Talla to lose the stupid crutch. When she woke up on the third morning and found herself able to be steady on her own two feet without that kriffing hunk of metal that kriffing abused her armpits, she could have jumped for joy! Except, well, she didn't want to risk having a relapse, so she had to make do with a small cheer to herself.

It had been an excruciating couple of days. The woman had realized that she hated sitting around doing nothing, even if it was doctor ordered 'necessary resting.' 🙄😒 If it hadn't been for holovids, she might have lost it, but she was so close to anyways. Yes, they were highly entertaining, but Talla's sensitive eyes would painfully strain from the bright moving picture after an hour or so and she'd have to take breaks, and there was only a small number of other things she could do without exerting herself.

Cybernetic maintenance lessons from Tech, which were surprisingly tedious because she hated what the droid-like limb had miserably brought upon her, so she only lasted with ten(ish) minute intervals at a time.

Taking a nap, which was a new, foreign concept Talla wasn't sure she was okay with because it wasted precious time. Plus, the attempts were short-lived because just as she could start peacefully drifting off, a booming explosion or something else equally thunderous would sound from the common area, causing her to jump up and swiftly grab the knife and hand blaster under from her pillow to fight off incoming attackers, only for her to groan when Wrecker's whoops and hollers could be heard milliseconds later and the dots connected in her mind: it was just his holovids.

The only other thing Talla had tried to do was attempt target practice from her bed. Wrecker stole one of Crosshairs spare droid posters to put up in her own room, and she alternated between the gun and knives, but Talla of course hit the target every time so that too quickly became boring.

So, with pep in her step at FINALLY BEING FREE, she strutted into the common area to join the others for breakfast.

"Hey, look who's not hobblin' anymore!" Wrecker happily announced.

Hunter and Crosshair glanced up from their breakfasts. Hunter's smile was barely there as usual but still just as genuine. Ever the grump when it came to anything about the new member, Crosshair just humphed disinterestedly and turned back to his breakfast that wasn't rations. 

With the positive response she did get, Talla's spirits lifted even more, and she scanned the room for her other buddy, nowhere to be found. "Where's Tech?" She wondered, knowing he'd be pleased as well.

"He's cookin' breakfast." Wrecker informed her around a bite of some sort of food in his mouth.

Talla blinked. "... Cooking?" She repeated in disbelief, pointing her thumb blindly to the kitchen across the way. "As in, using the stove cooking?"

"And I thought Wrecker had a tiny mind." Crosshair quipped before taking a sip of his caf. Hunter sent him a dirty look.

Talla's jaw set, temper threatening to flare. "I only meant that I thought you guys couldn't cook." She clarified shortly. Crosshair only used that condescending tone when he was forced to interact with Talla, and it managed to sting every, single, time. And even when he didn't say anything, he still managed to convey his disdain for her existence with a piercing glare, lips seeming to be permanently curled in a distasteful sneer. Or on the other end of the spectrum, Crosshair just plain ignored Talla, and it was just as equally disheartening and hurtful. 'Why doesn't he like me yet?'

"Apparently, we've uncovered yet another one of Tech's abilities." Hunter chose to kindly explain, wanting to diffuse the quickly rising tension.

Thank the Maker, Tech cantered in at that moment carrying two plates full of a strange food that... weren't rations. "Good morning, Talla!" He set down the plates at the table and plopped down in his seat, gesturing for her to do the same. "I hope you like Iktotch toast because that is what I made."

She did oblige him, not allowing her mind to be sent into a spiral of why the Sniper didn't approve of her yet. Talla took in the strange food with a curious eye but overall cautious demeanor. "What exactly is 'Iktotch toast?'" She asked unsurely, picking up her fork and poking the square pieces of a something brown that was toasted and covered in a white powdery substance.

"Slices of egg-dipped Iktotchian gravelwheat bread cooked golden brown and dusted with powdered Christophsian sugar, served piping hot with bantha butter and carbosyrup." Tech elucidated, picking up the carbosyrup jug and pouring it's sugary contents over his toast and then hers.

Talla took a small, apprehensive bite, and her eyes widened when the surprisingly and incredibly sweet delicacy hit her taste buds.

"What? Is it not good?" Tech asked curiously.

Talla shook her head and happily swallowed the delicious mouthful. "No, the exact opposite - this is fantastic!" It was like heaven in her mouth! "When did you learn how to cook?"

"I had to find new ways to occupy myself while you were incapacitated." Tech divulged, happily seeing her scarf down like Wrecker, fully hooked after just one bite. "And after we were banned from the shooting range because Hunter was not there to contain Wrecker's affinity for explosions, my want to unlawfully tamper with the course to appease him, and Crosshairs blatant disregard for being the second in command that is supposed to stop our qoute unqoute 'suicidal tendencies', Hunter grounded us and we were not allowed to leave the ship unless he accompanied us, and since he didn't want to leave you alone and vulnerable, I could only read holobooks, watch holovids or do unnecessary repairs to the ship for so long before it became boring. Thus, I decided to experiment in the kitchenette."

There were some obvious undertones of irritation in his rant and a peeved look sent Hunter's way confirmed it, but the Sergeant simply gave an unapologetic shrug. "You blow a few floors off the top of a kriffin' skyscraper and injure a couple hundred regs, you're gonna get grounded."

"You don't even like regs!" Tech retorted, quickly becoming riled up.

Hunter hummed thoughtfully, "Your right, that part doesn't bother me, BUT, the destroyed skyscraper? Hell yeah!"

With fork in hand Tech used his hands to animatedly give his perfectly logical argument yet again. "Obstacle courses do not use explosions; real battle settings have explosions - I was simply trying to make the course more realistic and beneficial for everyone!"

"Can we have this every day?" Wrecker interrupted hopefully, referring to the toast as he had a massive sweet tooth and also wanted to stop the quickly escalating discussion.

The diversion worked. "That would not be ideal - our diets should primarily be sustainable, healthy foods, not sugary confections." Tech stated factually with a point of his fork.

A pout from both Talla and Wrecker was his only answer.

Then, Talla perked right up. "Wait, so since I'm fully recovered now, can you show me the markets like you promised?" Talla asked pointedly to Hunter, who apparently wielded the authority 'ground' them, meaning no leaving the ship period. "It'll be our last day of vacation, after all!" She crossed her arms stubbornly. "And if that's not enough of a reason to 'unground' Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair, I think the promise you made to me trumps the punishment you bestowed, Sarge, because I won't go anywhere without them."

Well, when she put it like that...

'Turning into quite a little spitfire.' Crosshair noted, 'Finally, something worth listening to came out of her mouth.' 

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

If Talla thought Dantooine was fascinating, it was all thrown out the window when she beheld what the ecumenopolis planet of Coruscant had to offer. Everywhere she looked there was something new and exciting to see! They spent the morning in the Lower Market District, which none of them had revisited since they arrived out of respect for Talla's wishes to explore it together.

Anything and everything from all over the galaxy Talla found at the market stands and shops, but they could only carry so much, so she had to settle on buying more practical stuff, like for her room and 'fresher, and supposed that it would be more meaningful if she acquired memorable nick-nacks from their predicted travels across the vast galaxy. In the end, she only bought, with a stash of credits that was way more than the rest of the Bad Batch or any trooper got, mind you, two heavy weights that weighed several hundred pounds each and a pull up bar to maintain some of her exercise routine with, a small frame for her medal, the ✨softest✨ blanket in the universe, and a new oval mirror to hang on her wall. 

But that didn't mean she didn't buy something just because it was 'so wizard.' After all, Coruscant was a new planet she had never been to and wanted something memorable to mark this new adventure. So she discovered and bought a bunch of string lights to hang around her room and emulate the twinkling city at night, a sight she thought was enchanting.

Throughout the whole excursion, Wrecker, Talla, and Tech were like wide-eyed little children let loose in a toy shop. Since Talla was more than willing to share her large stash of credits, Tech may or may not have found little pieces of technology he had been wanting for years to bring back to the ship and tinker with, Wrecker found an assortment of imported exotic foods to fill their kitchen cabinets, and Talla was just plain in awe over every little thing. Hunter had a hard time keeping track of all three, loudly threatening them over and over again through their comm channel when they got too far out of his reach that there were mechanic shops all around them and he would buy rope or chains if they dared disobey his one condition on not wandering off. 

Crosshair, absolutely no help in that department, was in a foul mood the whole morning and it only festered when he was required to help carry Talla's, Wrecker's and Tech's findings throughout their whole market adventure.

Though, after they ate a tasty lunch at a food stand Tech found on some recommendation from the HoloNet, some of the Sniper's ire faded as Talla graciously offered her pouch of infinite credits to him and Hunter, making sure they knew she wanted them to have fun also.

Crosshair smirked knowingly to the exhausted leader of the squadron across the table. "Fancy a visit to Nik's Parlor?" And Hunter seemed to perk up at the suggestion.

Wrecker gasped excitedly, nudging the puzzled woman next to him with his elbow. "You should get inked up too, Talla!"

One of her many questions during her hospital stay was what the markings Hunter and Crosshair's faces were... at first, she embarrassingly thought it was some intriguing natural discoloration caused by the enhancement process. "A tattoo?" She made a noise of interest and now had a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Why not? It would aid in my spirit of independence from Nala Se's influence."

Wrecker stared dumbly at her for a second. "What'd she say, Hunter?" He did finally ask, completely lost.

"She'd be stickin' it to the long-neck."

Now in the loop again, Wrecker laughed maniacally. "Oh yeah, now you're gettin' it!"

Except, Talla didn't know what was exactly required to 'get inked up.' Hunter tried to do better than the last two times he failed and actually warn her this time, but when they began their trek back through the market towards their friends' shop, Crosshair, to Hunter's frustration and Talla's bafflement/glee, rudely knocked him aside and fell into step right next to the still very innocent female clone. He feigned enthusiasm, animatedly asking her if she had any ideas what her tattoo would be, and 'lovingly' warned her 'It's going to be permanent, so you have to be very careful and be one hundred percent sure it's what you want.'

... and she hung onto his every insincere word.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Boy, was Talla in for a shock when she laid her saucer-sized eyes on the electric stabbing machines, confidence sucked right out of her.

"What's the matter, Talla?" Crosshair asked down at her with figurative honey of the sweetest kind dripping from his lips. "You did know that tattoos are created by injecting ink into the skin by needles, right?"

"Well -" She gaped at the wicked tool. Her blood rushing through her veins turned ice cold, and Talla lost feeling in her hands while simultaneously becoming clammy. "I... I uh -"

From behind the check-out counter at the back of this particular floor of the parlor - there were three - there was an average height twi-lek male human probably in his late twenties with skin beautifully shaded the darkest of grey that made his bright blue orbs for eyes pop. He wore an opened dark blue vest, faded green undershirt, and tan cargo shorts that reached just below his knees to display most of his personal body art, almost every inch of that visible skin on his arms, chest, abdomen and calves were decorated with neon tattoos that may as well been described as luminescent against his dark-tinted skin. And while each image was a completely separate masterpiece from each other, big medium or small,

they still managed to coexist into one stunning work of art.

He - Nik, apparently - exuberantly called out, "MAH BOYS!"  To the squad when he caught sight of them at the entrance. He hopped over the counter once they were close enough and alternated between heartily clapping them on the shoulders or firmly clasping hands with the Bad Batch boys. "Haven't seen you guys in forever! How ya been?!" He paused when the poorly dressed but still exceptionally attractive woman gaping at every daunting sharp tool in sight was made known. The shop owner tilted his head curiously when she just unfortunately happened to be clutching onto Crosshairs arm in absolute fright. "Who this?" Then a pleasing thought occurred to Nik, and a devilish smirk was thrown at the Sniper before introductions could be made. "Wait wait wait, don't tell me - you finally found a girl to put up with your bantha crap?!" His head was thrown back as he barked a laugh in disbelief, earning a sneer with minimal traces of malice from the slightly put off Crosshair, who immediately shoved Talla away, a hard feat considering her enhanced strength. "I gotta be honest, I always thought it'd be Sergeant Luscious Locks over here who'd find a lady friend first 'cause chicks dig the long hair, and he's the LEAST DERANGED member of your little freak squad."

Hunter's face turned as red as his signature bandana from the light-hearted tease and Wrecker laughed alongside the artist.

Crosshair tried to salvage some of his dignity by setting the record straight with a roll of his eyes and a dark tone, "She's just a new clone in our squad, nothing more, nothing less - got it?"

All amusement was wiped from Nik's face. "Sooo... what, the long-necks are poppin' babes outta the tubes now?" Despite his borderline derogatory comment, his smile to the woman was kind and friendly when she did finally meet his gaze. "Not that I'm complaining, you are a lot easier on the eyes then these bizarro nerf-herders, Miss...?"

The fake exuberance made its appearance again with Crosshair as the moment he had been grooming Talla the last ten minutes for came. He threw an arm around her shoulder to egg her forward. "Agent Talla, here, is getting her first tattoo," With faux encouragement he grinned down at the trembling woman in his arms, "Aren't you?"

She blinked unsurely at the pleased and smiling Nik, then up at pushy Crosshair, then back to the ready tattoo artist again. "I uh..." Man her throat was dry, "I actually don't think -"

Laced with mockery and cruel intentions, "Don't tell me your afraid." Crosshair said down to her. She of course bristled at the accusation, having taken the bait with a deadly glare, and yet he still pushed more of her buttons. "Are you a scaredy-sark, 'Agent?'"

Oh, like with the regs on Kamino Talla wanted to punch that stupid smirk off of his stupid face and see who'd be afraid then. But she wasn't entirely sure she was off the hook for that yet and had to settle with a sharp jab to his side with her elbow to make him release her. "I'm not afraid of a little needle!" She bellowed as he grunted from the quite painful blow. Yet her eyes still held glimmers of fear that everyone with the power of perception caught, and that soothed some of his throbbing aches. Talla crossed her arms defensively, "If I can survive getting my leg hacked off from shrapnel, I'm sure I can handle getting a -" The hum of the multiple electric torture devices jamming into people's flesh around her made her voice grow weaker and weaker, "Little... tiny... itty-bitty... tattoo..."

Having to be a people person for this type of work, Nik achieved helping hundreds, probably thousands of people with or without diagnosed needle-phobias achieve their wish of adorning their bodies with permanent works of art. His liveliness was toned down considerably so he could adopt a sympathetic manner to create a reassuring atmosphere for the apprehensive Agent, and he led her to his station in the back corner with a compassionate hand on her quivering back.

"I'm gonna take real good care of you, okay love?" With just as sweet-tempered words he reassured her as she shakily found her place on a swivel reclining chair. Nik sat adjacent to her on his stool and smiled warmly at Talla, who was white as a sheet and squeezing the armrests from the impending doom of her decision to stick it to Nala Se by way of needles. "Lots of people from all different kinds of humanoids across Coruscant that come here are, in fact, afraid of needles." He chuckled as he told a funny memory to try and ease her nerves, "Once, I had a mighty Zabrak come in who actually bawled like a baby when I started my prep work," His smile turned smug and playful, "Lucky for you and that guy, your new pal Nik knows a few tricks that can make this as easy as possible: We'll choose a small, easy design with black or grey ink on an area that'll be the least painful, like one of your arms or legs or -" He waggled his eyebrows, "- if you want to be a little more risqué, my sister can do a little something on your hip, which believe it or not is just as good a place to get a tattoo with minimal discomfort."

"And -" He held up a finger then reached into a drawer in the cart next to him and out came a small bottle rattling with capsules. "I also have a specific painkiller that you can take before we start to make things even less uncomfortable." Nik gestured to the boys surrounding his workstation. "You've got your cheer squad here with ya, and I'm positive Tech will make sure you're breathing while I work, but I am also amazing company and work better with a little friendly conversation 'cause it makes both the artist and the living canvas infinitely more at ease. And if this still isn't enough to relax ya, I've got tons of music to choose from and, worse comes to worse, stuff for you to bite down on if you need it." 

He set the bottle of painkillers aside and gently covered her cold hand that was still shaking with his warm, reassuring one, "Literally, the only thing you have to do is try to move as little as possible and let me know if you need a two-minute break before you try moving away - sound good, Talla?"

Yes, the whole plan sounded good, but it was the cart filled with intimidatingly pointy tools he had to use that didn't.

Talla's silence was answer enough, "And if you don't believe me just yet -" He jabbed a thumb to the silent long-haired clone by his side, "Sergeant Luscious Locks over here -" Hunter face-palmed. "- with those super senses or whatever their called, he got a tattoo on his kriffing face, one of the most painful areas to get inked," Nik simpered, "And I managed to get him through it without any fainting or puking or even a lil' whimper." He gave her a pointed look now, "So, if YOU really want to go through with this, I'm 99% percent sure I can successfully give ya a tiny masterpiece that you can flaunt like a badass boss lady."

Her tone was strangled, "Why only 99%?"

His smile was now tight-lipped, "Because sometimes, there are people who are just not able to relax even if I pull all the stops due to the fact they're only doing this as a dare from their friends to show they're not scaredy-sarks -" He quickly sent an accusing glare Crosshairs way, "- and if you can't relax, I'm not gonna even try to mark you because whatever I try putting down will be sloppy and I won't let someone walk around with an incomplete, ugly, permanent marking that will crush their self-confidence. Uh-uh, I did that once, and I still regret it every day."

This whole idea was sounding less and less appealing by the second, and Talla was only marginally interested when walking through the entrance to begin with. "There's no way to... I don't know... remove it?" She checked.

Crosshair rudely scoffed at her idiocy, but Nik was beyond patient with this newbie. "The process, while not as harsh as actually getting the tattoo, is still pretty painful, and also kinda spendy."

Talla nodded slowly, mind torn between wanting to RUN or prove Crosshair wrong, that she wasn't afraid of a tiny needle.

Hunter had remained quiet throughout this whole ordeal out of respect for her dignity, not wanting to embarrass her further in front of others and, also, hoping she might make up her own mind and realize that the best defense against Crosshair's salty tendencies was actually not giving into his provocations but just paying no mind to his button pushing, maybe offering a few scathing remarks back to show him that you weren't going to take bantha crap from him.

Talla obviously was deathly afraid of needles because of the Kaminoan experiments that often included such pointy tools that could be - and were - painful in the wrong hands. Once upon a time, that was the case with the Bad Batch boys and while yes, each eventually getting a tattoo of their own was a major breakthrough in their recovery from the experiments, one look at Talla showed she was not there yet. 

Personally, this was a time Hunter considered the line between Crosshair being an ass just to be an ass, and honestly being plain cold-hearted, effectively crossed into the latter regions. Because the Sniper was actually the last of them to get past the hurdle of needle-phobia, having been a favorite chosen victim of the Chief Medical Scientist, that tattoo on his face not even four months old. And even now, a year after the fact, they all still avoided using needles unless it was a life-threatening issue. Hunter thought the only reason Crosshair suggested even going to the tattoo parlor was because he knew the Sarge, the least affected one, wanted to follow through on his wish to have an entire skeletal inspired tat on the left side of his body, but now he questioned if the suggestion was for that considerate reason, or really it was an excuse to humiliate their newest team member.

And pushing a severe needle-phobe to get repeatedly stabbed with an electric one, knowing her traumatic past with them, that was not okay.

Hunter finally interjected with his words and his body, cutting off her view of the taunting Sniper, who had purposely positioned himself to be closest to her. "Talla, you don't need to get a tattoo just to prove you're not a coward." Her fear-ridden eyes turned to him as he leaned down to her eye-level and placed both hands on her shoulders to emphasize his sincerity, "You proved you weren't when you took on an entire Seppie base by yourself, alright?"

"Woah, seriously?" The curious Nik received a firm nod in affirmation, and he gave Talla a look that was both deadpanned but also showed amazement and awe at her heroic endeavors. "Dude! Forget what I said two minutes ago - you already are a badass boss lady! You don't need a tattoo! But, if you still wanna do something totally wizard with your look - not there's anything wrong with it, your perfect just the way you are, love - there's plenty of other ways to do that without needles, Talla."

You would think all this hype would make her see what they saw, but no. "I - I want to try, I do!" Talla could still sense Crosshair's condescension, and her iron will to prove herself to this guy overpowered her rationality. 

Hunter had to fight the urge to shake her shoulders in an attempt to snap her out of Crosshair's tractor beam, and figuratively swallowed some choice words for his baby brother. "Talla -"

"But not because of Crosshair!" She quickly defended, almost successful in keeping her voice completely steady and convincing, "For me, I really want like a - a loth-wolf or something -" She pointed to her covered right bicep, "Here! I think it'd look... totally wizard?" She internally cringed. 'I hope I used that right.'

Well, Agent Talla was a grown woman who had made up her mind, so Hunter had to trust his artist friend would hold to his promise of making this as smooth a ride as possible for the formerly tortured Special Agent Clone.

Nik, though, he wasn't so easily fooled. He'd seen this type of flighty customer sit in this chair countless times before and was not all surprised when she managed to live through all the prep work but flew from the seat right as the electric needle was activated.

"You know what?!" Her laugh could be classified as hysterical, "I completely forgot, Crosshair and Hunter were the original ones to suggest this whole 'inking-up' scheme and most excited about it, so -" The frantic woman blindly reached behind her and snatched the closest man (Hunter) and shoved him forward into the abandoned execution chair with so much force the bolted down seat creaked nearly torn up from the floor. "So, this brave guy can go first." Said brave guy grunted from the blunt force trauma worthy impact that knocked the breath right out of him. "And uh, you know, maybe watching you jab the leader of my squadron with a needle over and over and over... and... over -" Her body swayed. 'Woah, when did they turn on the anti-grav?' She wondered, a general feeling of unsteadiness threatening to overtake her, and Tech held his hands out just in case. "Um -" Talla shook her head to stabilize herself. "Maybe observing the whole creative process will help me to relax more!"

The toothy smile plastered on her face was as artificial as her cybernetic limb, but Nik benevolently humored her, and while this time Talla managed maintain her cool when the needle actually made contact with the flesh on Hunter's bicep, once that little speck of blood was seen -

"OH MY KRIFFING - KARKING - BLECH!!!!" An aggressive shudder raked through her entire body. Everyone within a two-mile radius must've turned their heads to find the source of such a pitiful cry of distress. "Okay, I'm gonna go throw up now, so have fun with..." She made erratic gestures at this act of pure insanity in her eyes with wooziness coming back hundred-fold, "THAT!"

"Wrecker!" Hunter barked, unable to do anything else, and the only person in the universe who could hold Talla back thankfully caught the fleeing woman midflight of lightning-fast escape. Hunter did not want to take the risk she wouldn't watch where she went and accidentally take a swan dive off the edge of the sidewalk several hundred feet above the ground floor, and land in a SPLAT! below.

Talla struggled in Wrecker's rock-solid, unmovable grip. The big lug tried calming her down with hushed, reassuring words like a mother would do to soothe her crying child while Tech standing next to him simultaneously stroked her hair tenderly/patted her head gently in an attempt to relieve her frayed nerves.

On the sidelines, Crosshair - he just could not believe how entertaining this whole experiment had turned out.

Hunter wanted to scrap this whole plan and just leave despite the patch of black ink already administered to him - he could say it was a birthmark or something? - but Nik was already way ahead of him and had pressed a button on his commlink to signal his backup.

Not twenty seconds later two women burst forth from the lift across the room - a twi'lek with similar beautiful dark skin/bright blue eye coloring to Nik and bright tattoos, and a female Mirialan with an enchanting mauve skin tone/pink eyes combo with light brown hair. Both were dressed in clothing that Talla, if she had been paying any attention, would have asked if that was the definition of the word: 'risqué.' Some impractical tears here (who tore their perfectly good clothes?) a touch of some more useful leather there (leather could protect you from certain attacks) and a bunch of other eccentric accessories that she probably couldn't name. Plus, such dramatic make-up that, while stunning, must have been so uncomfortable to wear...

how could they rub an itchy eye or even take a drink of something without messing up the carefully applied products?

"How bad?!" The rich toned woman gasped.

Nik paused his work to snap his fingers in the squirming Talla's direction, "A code green."

To which they were befuddled right alongside Wrecker, who asked confusedly, "Shouldn't it be code red?" He unceremoniously plopped the thrashing woman on the ground due to multiple bruises forming, but still spread his impressively long arms to block her access to the exit, shuffling this way and that to ensure Talla didn't slip past him. And she did try. 

"Nah, her face is green." Nik chuckled, and the two revved up and ready to act partners in this business gave the artist expectant looks so he would explain the gravity of the situation, "I told Agent Talla here that there are other ways to change up her look without needles, ways her teammates here haven't even braved trying."

"Starting with tasteful clothing, for one." The Mirialan tsked in disapproval, reaching out and sharply turning the now shy Talla around, inspecting the sorry excuse for clothing with a critical eye and judgy tugs and pulls at the coarse and unflatteringly cut fabric in an attempt to make this even remotely attractive. "Sweetie, don't let these moof-milkers EVER shop for you again."

"Hey!" Wrecker protested, mildly hurt the mean name-calling.

Tech irately defended his honor. "WE did not pick out this outfit - this is a Kaminoan creation that all clone soldiers are required to wear." He may not care for such frivolous things as wearing stylish clothing, but two minutes on the HoloNet and he could turn her from bleak to chic in no time if he really wanted to. Which he didn't. Care in the slightest. About these things.

The other twi'lek hmphed at his reveal. "Well that explains it." She joined in on the fussing, choosing to flick at Talla's boringly cut hair, earning a squeak of protest after a light tug. "I admit, they're phenomenal scientists, but the way they dress their troopers makes me wanna ugly cry."

"You were right to call us, babe." The Mirialan praised her studiously working boyfriend, then alarmed Talla by gripping her arm with a scary glint of fierce determination in her eyes, "How long we got?"

Nik hummed in deep thought as he calculated the rate of his speed with the size and detailing of the charcoal grey, bone shapen tattoos ordered, "'Bout five hours, give or take."

"Perfect!" The women cheered, tugging bewildered Talla towards the lift against her will.

"She's fresh outta the tube, so go easy on her!" Nik made sure to call after them.

Hunter could only watch helplessly as the frightened Talla threw him a horrified look over her shoulder, and unable to offer anything more than a slight nod that he hoped was encouraging.

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It was a whirlwind five hours filled with a flurry of creative activity. But Talla actually enjoyed every minute of it.

It was difficult to choose a hairstyle at first.

(FLASHBACK) 

"Do you have some ideas on what you want to do, hun?" Blair, the Mirialan girlfriend to Nik, queried gently when they situated Talla in her workstation, her hyperactivity momentarily shifting to soft communication that was vital before the start of creating another type of semi-permanent art on the body.

Talla shifted her eyes around the intimidating room unsurely, looking for more torture instruments with nostrils burning at the smell of chemicals. "... no." She said, feeling small.

"Okay that's fine!" Skylar, Nik's nearly identical twin sister, reassured her quickly, "What about your favorite color, then?"

"Um, I don't have one." Mousy Talla said again.

"Oh, come on, sure you do!" Skylar laughed, mistaking her inexperience for nerves, "Everyone does!"

Talla shrugged awkwardly, extremely agitated now, especially when they draped a cloak thing over her front for some reason and snapped the snug collar shut, causing a rather suffocating sensation. "Well, I don't." She muttered again, starting to hunch down in the chair, right about now hating that she lacked such simple life experiences like cutting hair. It seemed like just a simple concept everyone else knew about!

The worldly women gave each odd glances, put off by her unusual fright scare levels for even a young woman who'd never been in a parlor before. 

Then, Blair touched a finger to her chin as a clarifying thought occurred to her, "You know, it just registered that lover boy yelled she's 'fresh outta the tube', and she's acting a lot like all the fledgling troopers that come in here." From behind, Blair put her hands on Talla's tense shoulders and imploringly peered at the anxious woman through the mirror across from them, "This is a long shot, but are you a clone, Talla? Did you not just grow up on Kamino?"

Finally, a question she could answer! "Yes. My birth number is SAC-1, and I just finished my first campaign on the planet of Silva, located in the Ardenian System situated in the edges of the Mid Rim." The Agent automatically recited 

They tried to contain their shock, not wanting to make her feel more out of place. "Yeah?" Blair calmly started to fuss with Talla's hair again, but with a more soothing touch to help ease her frayed nerves, the levels of her fear now understandable, and also trying to get a feel for what she'd be working with, envisioning the different haircuts that would be best for Talla's face shape and such. 

Being in this line of work, you heard a lot of things from your customers, wanting them to feel at ease with open, friendly conversation. Clones, who did not have anyone to really open up to, often confided some with the people who encouraged their individuality and made them feel like they were worth something, so many often made completely deserved, offhand comments about their cruel creators. They revealed the veiled threats told to them from infancy: they were just expendable meat droids who weren't worth anything. That was why many were so hesitant to even consider altering their identical appearances. 

Talla exhibited those same symptoms, though a little more severely, and Blair's heart went out to the female clone, who must've suffered greatly at the hand of those savages. "Was the mission successful?" She respectfully asked instead.

"I destroyed the Separatist base, so yes," She jutted her covered droid leg out, frowning sourly, "But I lost my leg in the process, so also no."

"You poor thing!" Skylar lamented, assuming underneath the horrendous trousers was a cybernetic replacement, "But you're so brave! Braver than I am because I could never fight in a bloody battle."

Talla shrugged the self-depreciating comment away. "Not everyone is meant to fight, and that's fine. It's what clones are for - to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"A valiant attitude, but you're more than just a clone, Talla." Blair stated firmly, giving her a stern look that was reflected in the mirror, not one to beat around the bush. "You're a person, just like everyone else in the Republic, and a young woman like you should enjoy some aspects of life even though your expected to defend the Republic. I mean, you're not expected to fight all of the time."

"Actually, we are." Talla disagreed knowingly... grimly.

"But not tonight!" Skylar revealed excitedly, recalling what she'd overheard, "When we were leaving the boys, I heard one of them mention going to 79's after they're done here!"

Blair gave such a dramatic gasp. "Okay -" She circled the chair around to face Talla, repeating Hunter's earlier actions by getting to her eye-level and firmly grasping Talla's tense shoulders. "Talla, we want to help you liven up your look, we want you to feel confident, but we're gonna need  your help. Soooo -" Bobbing her head and humming thoughtfully, Blair wracked her brain to find a way to probe Talla's mind for ideas, "Alright, I want you to tell me the first thing that pops into your head when you think about yourself!"

Such a simple demand, but apparently a not-so-simple act. Her mind immediately and frustratingly and unhelpfully went blank. SHE DIDN'T THINK THAT WAS POSSIBLE! 

"Okay, umm - uh - er -" Perking up, Talla snapped her fingers, "OH, explosion!"

"Explosion?" Blair repeated dubiously, wondering what in the world that meant.

"Yeah!" Heat rose to Talla's cheeks, their stares of stupefaction unrelenting, and her voice was mouselike as she explained sheepishly, "...Because I, you know, survived an explosion?"

A slow, pensive nod from Blair started the act of verbally brainstorming. "Explosion..."

Skylar returned the nod with a contemplative hum alongside it, "- bombs..."

Blair snapped a finger triumphantly, a vision coming to her, "-  fire ..."

Skylar's eyes sparked to life with a burst of creativity.

"We can work with this!" They unanimously acclaimed. "Talla, you're a genius!"

(END OF FLASHBACK)

This comment for some reason was enough to put all the Agents' former apprehensions to rest.

Sure, the chemicals used in Talla's hair irritated her sensitive nose and skin, and the new, more trendsetting clothing found for the young woman to dress in definitely took some getting used to, and the two women working on her were so hyper, more hyper than her even, which Talla didn't think was humanly possible, but the end result was worth it. 😏

Not only did she find out that dying your hair a different color or COLORS than what you were born with was an amazing way to promote individuality, she also learned a lot about herself, the side of her that the Kaminoans had almost successfully squashed: the simply high-spirited young woman who should take every opportunity to be just that, not a clone soldier bred for war. 

That was something Ahsoka hadn't been able to explain to her, the young Jedi fighting in the same war as her but still, also, had a way of life that demanded she be sensible at all times. So, like she had habitually done since leaving Kamino, Talla asked lots and lots of questions and they happily answered each and every one of them, going above and beyond for the very first female clone soldier they had ever known to exist.

(FLASHBACK)

"You're not a bother!" Blair reassured her with a friendly wink, combing through Talla's damp, now brightly colored locks.

Skylar backed up this statement with kneeling down next to the chair and pulling Talla into a fleeting side hug when the self-conscious younger woman expressed self-shaming apologies for being so apparently high maintenance and bothersome, "Us girls have to stick together, Talla!" Skylar said for extra inspiriting measures. 

(END OF FLASHBACK)

Blair and Skylar pulled all the stops to make sure Talla would fit in with the buzzing party atmosphere, for after explaining what that place was Talla pleaded to be dressed, well, more like them, because once she got used to the strange garb, that particular edgy style actually became appealing and gave her the same empowering feeling her armor did: KRIFFING BADASSERY. 

She wanted to test the boundaries of this 'normal person' thing, like wearing clothes that were actually flattering. Though, Talla drew the line at deliberate tears in her new clothing style. It was just not right to ruin perfectly good clothes that way.

Well, either way Skylar and Blair were beyond ecstatic to help her be free of those horrid robes! Once her hair was dried, cut and styled two hours ahead of schedule, Talla scurried with the other eager two up to the third level of the parlor, which housed a small shop filled with hip clothing of every kind for many different humanoid species, and spent the better half of an hour enthusiastically sifting through their 'so wizard!' clothing selections, holding up anything that excited Talla or thought looked amazing which was pretty much EVERYTHING, and the more experienced women nicely helped her piece together three extra outfits, graciously offering them to her for a sizeable discount of 100% off.

(FLASHBACK)

Talla persistently held out the pouch of creds Skylar had stubbornly rejected two times already. "I can't take these new clothes without paying you, that'd be stealing! Even with Hunter getting a big tattoo, I promise I still have enough credits to pay you."

Again she stubbornly pushed away the offered payment. "Talla, I know that you're getting a lot of credits now, but once you start defying the long-necks they're probably gonna discipline you, and with the Jedi around they'll have to stick to more petty means like restricting allowance. We want you to have some clothes other than blacks and armor to wear just in case you won't be able to afford more for a while."

"But this lot I picked out is worth 273 credits!" Talla pointed out regretfully, "Don't you have, like, bills to pay and mouths to feed with all the money you make in this place?"

"I do," Skylar calmly confirmed, "But I've never had a problem making ends meet even when handing out some freebies every once in a while."

"But -!"

Blair threw an arm around the Agent's shoulder and adopted a philosophical expression, "Talla, here's another life lesson," She waved a hand in the air as she spouted this sage wisdom, "When life hands you free clothes -" And just like that, the metaphysical nature was dropped and replaced with comically fake exasperation, "DON'T BE A DUMMY - TAKE THEM!"

(END OF FLASHBACK)

By the time Talla had been dressed into her outfit carefully curated for a night out on the big city, they still had thirty minutes until the five-hour deadline. By now, Talla's thinking had been rewired to know that she wasn't burdening them with this extensive makeover, but she still timidly asked for one more thing to add to this look since they had a teeny bit more time.

A mischievous smirk from both stylists was her reply. "I thought you'd never ask."

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Skylar rubbed her hands together excitedly after Blair declared 'Done!' and clicked the cap back on the dark lipstick she had just used on Talla's lips. "You ready to see the finished look?"

Talla's little laugh of a reply was nervous and self-conscious and she fidgeted with the hem of the fit and flare, leather accented dress she had picked out. Now that the whole makeover was finished, she started feeling - way too late, mind you - that perhaps this was all too much. "I don't know... maybe?"

Blair replaced her anxious thoughts with uplifting ones, "You look stunning, Talla! Anyone who lays eyes on you is gonna faint, no doubt!"

"You don't think the makeup was too much?" Talla still fretted, touching the edge of her eye that was now lined with a thin line of red and a smitch of white, and her lips, now darkly painted with a sultry shade of maroon.

"We made sure to keep it simple but tasteful, I promise." Blair told her truthfully.

More fraught-ridden words threatened to spill from her mouth, so Skylar decided to take evasive, more resourceful measures - I.E., twirling the Agent around herself to face the mirror.

There were a few beats of uneasy silence as she took in her new and improved appearance, before Talla tilted her head and breathed, "Ooo."

And the women who helped Talla blossom into this new, proudly expressive individual were happy that she was in awe and not disappointment.

Blair dramatically wiped away a fake tear, "My beautiful caterpillar has blossomed into confident butterfly." She sniveled.

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When Talla was offered the compliment that anyone who looked upon her now enhanced beauty would faint, she certainly was not expecting it to happen within her own squad. And Sergeant Hunter, the only one with enough patience to stay behind ten minutes after his appointment finished to wait for Talla's reappearance, was certainly not expecting her to look like... THAT.

~ To be continued... 😝 ~

Chapter Text

Talla was bursting at the seams with excitement over her new fiery look, but at the same time hoping for reasons she didn't quite understand that the Sarge would like it too. Her confidence had shot way up, and she felt good, unique, powerful, like she could take on the entire Separatist regime with her bare hands! It was amazing how a new do and new threads and some painting of the face and nails could EMPOWER her so much! It was like magic!

Standing there in a fool-like stupor, Hunter's immediate thought when she emerged was how Talla had given the Mando'a term 'meshla' a whole new meaning to him all over again, and could have sworn time stopped when he laid eyes on this reformed Special Agent Clone.

And he did see that she wanted his approval. And he truly wanted to give it. But unfortunately, as per usual, Hunter's ability to be think-y stopped in Talla's evidently intimidating presence, so his mouth declared a response to her makeover to a different and infinitely worse extreme. "'Bout time, soldier, the others are already at the bar." 

... Karking hells, HE wanted to take that swan dive off the ledge now. His clipped tone was sour and cold and not even remotely supportive, and the second those words flew out of his mouth Hunter regretted it. Just like that, all Talla's confidence crumbled and then disintegrated until she was left with nothing but all-consuming feelings of humiliation and self-consciousness. Something he knew the Kaminoans thrived in giving her already.

With his tail between his legs, stony-faced Hunter briskly fled the awkward situation he had not meant to create. Outside he muttered the worst profanities he knew at himself. Hunter did seriously consider taking that leap off the edge to end his suffering and the suffering he brought upon the undeserving Talla.

Kriff, this was exactly why he avoided women in the first place! The only women he ever really encountered were either Jedi Generals, who obviously weren't suitable candidates for a relationship of any kind and just plain out of his league overall, OR the ones who hung around the bars his squad visited from time to time, ones who were just looking for a good time and, well, let's just say he was incapable of playing along with their simple little game of playful words and suggestive actions in such an overwhelming environment. 

Hunter faced this particular fact early on in his life after leaving Kamino: the only 'flirting' he was good at was 'flirting' with death. And apparently, even simply telling Talla, his teammate who just happened to be a nice-looking woman, whom he had firmly labeled as: 🚫OFF LIMITS!!!🚫 Telling her that she looked great... apparently that easy concept to grasp was an impossible feat to actually execute!

Right about now, Hunter kinda wished things would go back to normal, back to before she came into their lives and he was forced into this tormental cycle of trying to keep his distance so he wouldn't be given the chance to screw things up on an even larger scale, because imagine if Talla was emotionally involved with him and he made such demeaning and unfeeling comments! It'd ROYALLY screw her up! 

And this added another layer of hate towards himself, because after what happened on Silva he had promised himself to do better by her. What he said in there, that was not doing better.

Hunter's one and only consolation was that his brothers experienced similar social difficulties as him with the female of the species... but at the same time it was also pathetically depressing.

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"Forget him!" Skylar proclaimed with a stink eye directed at Hunter's speedily retreating back, the intensity of her loathing for his stupid comment almost burning two holes in his shirt and she hoped he felt the extent of her frustrations. She briskly turned deflated Talla around, to offer encouragement to her crestfallen face with a soft smile. "You don't need Hunter's or anyone's approval, 'kay?"

Next to her, Blair firmly concurred. "That's right - no one else's opinion matters! If you like it, that's what's important, Talla, and you definitely don't need a stupid guys' validation."

Sitting on the pay counter behind them, carefully checking over his mobile tattoo station in its decorative case, Nik peeked up from his fussing at this dig on his gender and dramatically cleared his throat, "Ahem." And raised his hand to jokingly as for permission to speak, "Uh, stupid guy here," His girlfriend gave him a comical look of acknowledgement, "Yeah, just to defend ME and the other good specimens of my gender -" He gave a synthetic, exaggerated smile of smugness to Talla and placed a hand over his heart in an equally exaggerated gesture to his faux meek and humble soul, "Yes, we do in fact exist -" Then, surprisingly, Nik dropped the comedian act and became solemn, "I don't believe Hunter is of the boorish variety, ladies, I've personally drawn the conclusion that -" He shrugged sympathetically, "Sergeant Luscious Locks just gets a little tongue-tied around women, which makes him snippy out of embarrassment." This rather candid statement about his friends' personal issues prompted him to hold up his favorite tattoo gun threateningly, "And if that leaves this room, I will stun the perp and then permanently wreck her face with the ugliest image Spiky can create." Nik really didn't give his artistic instruments names, he wasn't that crazy! The man just wanted to lighten the dreary mood again.

After some more reassurances that she looked ✨amazing✨ and the promise of the trio dropping off her bag of new clothes at the Marauder on their way home while the Bad Batch partied it up at 79's, Talla's spirits was somewhat bolstered again. She found the strength to face the alleged insecure man, who was seen through the windows pulling a Tech by burning a pattern of his own creation into the concrete ground outside through agitated pacing.

Skylar had also managed to bashfully petition Talla to, in her behalf, invite Wrecker to call her sometime, having been looking for an indirect way to ask him for the better half of a year now because despite her brazen conduct... she found herself clamming up when trying to ask him herself.

After a nod, Talla squared her shoulders and lifted her chin proudly, to at least give a semblance of confidence before leaving the empty parlor.

Nik snapped his case shut, having finished with the examination of his tools, and hopped off the counter to approach his favorite girls, draping an arm around each one's shoulders and pecking his girlfriend's head. They all sighed in gratification at seeing the accomplishments they had achieved today awkwardly interact outside.

"You know that Hunter's got it bad, right?" Blair openly commented to her boyfriend, seeing Hunter visibly fumble his way through an apology.

Nik had also noted the sputtered words and staggering movements, being more frantic with this Agent Talla then the other women he'd had witnessed Hunter try to interact with during other visits to the parlor. "It's as plain as the skull tattooed on his face." He motioned his head at Talla mirroring the man's anxiety. "What about the Agent Wonder?"

Blairs eyes gleamed in excitement over the piece of juicy gossip she was anxious to spill, and smirked up at her lover. "When we asked how she was settling in with the Bad Batch boys, Talla made a brief and clueless comment about how she got these weird heart palpitations when the Sarge smiled at her, and was most fussy and blush about showing him the new look." She nudged his side affectionately, "Sound familiar?"

A hum of understanding was followed by a knowing smirk of his own, "What'd you say to that?"

"We didn't -" Skylar cut in, just in case, wanting to prevent a swap-spit moment between her brother and best friend who were annoyingly a PDA type of couple. "The girl hyper-fixated on the hair-dying process two seconds after that, wanting to know all the science-y mumbo jumbo behind it."

To Skylar's satisfaction, her interruption had succeeded in preventing a potential cringy spectator moment, "Eh, probably for the best." Nik agreed with a slight shrug, "I think she's still a bit too starry eyed to really understand all that hefty relationship junk right now."

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Snippets of different attempts at apologies sputtered out of Hunter's mouth as soon as Talla was in hearing range, "I'm - I'm really - I - I didn't mean to - I swear I'm - er - Blast it!" He made a noise of total frustration at being reduced to nothing more than a blithering fool, and pinched the bridge of his nose with enough force that it only aggravated the oncoming stress headache instead of helping it go away.

Talla successfully shut him up with a calm raise of her hand, "Let's just forget about it, okay?" Her eyes were widened in concern at his unusual, frazzled state, and that was enough to know he was sincerely sorry for his comment back there. "You look like your about to face the Maker." She nervously joked.

Hunter either blatantly ignored that last comment or just didn't hear it, "Sure!" He gave a quick clear of his throat so his high-pitched tone would go back to its normal clipped baritone. "Sure." He shoved his hands into his pockets in an attempt to steady himself, but he still could not look directly at the inquisitive and beautiful Agent, "But um, full disclosure you do look -" He tried plowing on. 'Come on, you can do it! Bea-U-Ti-ful.' He cleared his throat again. "- nice." ... 'Wow. Here's your 'Compliment of the Year!' Medal, di'kut.'

"I know." Talla's response to that pathetic compliment certainly sounded believably self-assured. But in reality, it was made to be exactly that so as not to expose the little shreds of doubt that did persist at the back of her mind, but not from Hunter's comment anymore! It was clear that he very sorry about that. It was from her own negative views about herself given to her by Nala Se. Talla brushed one side of her new curtain bangs behind her ear, "Appreciate it though." She bashfully followed up with. Which was a sincere reply this time, so he'd hopefully stop being so wound up, and also because she really did appreciate that Hunter liked the new look. It made her giddy and timid at the same time, and she tried to mask it with a spiteful jest towards her makeover, "You really think this'll be enough to stick it to the witchy piece of aiwha-bait?"

"If it doesn't, I don't know what will." Hunter muttered, and he mentally face-palmed. That comment could be taken in a good or bad way, so he immediately jerked his head to the left, abruptly changing the subject, "We should get going, if I'm not there to monitor the others, Crosshair will get Wrecker completely blasted just for kicks and Tech won't intervene because he avoids all confrontation."

To his sweet relief Talla dropped the awkward conversation they were failing to rescue and fell into a brisk walk alongside him to keep up as he posthaste led the way to the bar, which was several streets over. "The girls told me that this type of drinking establishment has blaring music, crowded floors and bright, flashing strobe lights." He confirmed this description with a short, 'Mm-hm', so Talla asked the obvious question, "Isn't that a recipe for disaster with our enhanced senses?"

Thankfully, he became a bit more conversational with such a safe topic, "These chaotic surroundings are the best way to teach you how to control the enhancement so that you can stay grounded out in the field, and don't experience another sensory overload that hurts you or others."

Talla nodded, understanding his logic. "So how exactly do I control it?"

"One way is keeping focused on the task at hand. In this instance, we're going to focus on getting drinks and keeping an eye on everyone."

Since this tactic had obviously worked well for him after his own misfortunes two years back, Talla had high hopes for Hunter's techniques.

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Approaching 79's, Talla could literally feel vibrations rumbling through the duracrete sidewalk from the loud music inside the cantina.

The flashes of colorful and blinding lights made her wince when they felt like stabs to her enhanced eyes, and newfound apprehension caused her steady stride to falter. "I'm not so sure about this, Sarge." Her tone was brittle, and she considered just skipping the whole lesson and high-tailing back to the Marauder. Talla had no desire to reexperience the incident on Silva, and the hospital being no picnic either. "What if this'll be one of those inevitable times where I lose it and nothing can stop the attack?"

Hunter's look back at her was sparked with determination, "Then I'll get you out of there," He promised, "But either way you're not going to learn unless you try."

"The little green guy they call Grand Master Yoda at the Jedi Temple is known for firsthand teaching all the younglings 'Try not. 'Do' or 'do not,' there is no 'try.'" This little tid bit of information maybe had no stake in the conversation whatsoever, but Hunter's choice of phrasing reminded her of the piece of sage wisdom and caused it to spill from her lips. It kinda made sense.

Hunter had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, because if he was being totally honest he'd rather do anything else too, instead of risk a humiliating meltdown. His senses had been a little out of sorts lately. And his emotions were a little wonky too. Alright, he would admit it, with the second one Hunter had definitely been more than subpar in controlling these days, more outbursts in the last week then in his entire two-year career. "Well let's do it then, because you have to learn one way or another before our next assignment, and it's either my way OR you're going to have to deal with Tech, and Wrecker would be his assistant -" His look was deadpanned as he raised his hand to the access panel, knowing he had made a compelling counter argument, "- need I say more?"

'Tech and Wrecker did just level a skyscraper by using explosions to teach fellow trainees.' This blood-pressure raising fact is what made Talla suck in a steadying deep breath, and reluctantly nod in agreement to do it Hunter's comparably easier way. She meekly followed him into the bar.

As soon as the double doors whooshed open the roar of electrifying music increased exponentially. Talla felt her heart begin to thrum so painfully in her chest that the frantic rhythm coursed through her whole body... or maybe it was just the vibrations from the bass. 

Pupils dilated. Her eyes darted back and forth to trying make sense of the hectic party atmosphere, strobe lights flashing from every which way, no relief anywhere from the piercing effect on Talla's sensitive eyes. Potential claustrophobia added more complications when alien species and clones of every rank crowded around Talla as her and Hunter trudged further into the dancefloor to reach the bar counter. Burning alcohol, cigarette smoke, perfumes mixed with the sweat of dancing bodies created such disgusting fumes. People cheered and shouted to be heard above the music. When one too many times she kept bumping into people, Talla's fight or flight response kicked in. In leaps and bounds the overstimulating surroundings were growing to be too much too fast and on an impulse Talla decided that in order to keep herself from spiraling completely out of control, she needed a physical grounding tool. 

She hastily fastened her arms around Hunter's sturdy elbow crook, and was not able to care about the impropriety of her action towards her squadron's leader.

To her luck though, the man did have the same enhanced senses as her, and in this moment Hunter was more focused on keeping them both sane instead of his internal battle with keeping distance from the woman. He did Talla one better and secured her up against his side with a stabilizing arm around her tense shoulders, the close proximity in this instance actually helping to alleviate his own whirling symptoms too instead of making them worse, inadvertently giving Hunter something to hold onto as well. "Concentrate on what we came here for." He reminded himself and more importantly her with an elevated tone, to be heard over the blaring music.

Surprisingly, Hunter's voice and reassuring squeeze of her shoulders cut through the chaos in Talla's mind. She used all her strength to train her eyes on the bar counter up ahead, wrapping her own arm around his middle in extra reassurance for both her and him. "Get drinks, watch the others." She muttered to herself. "Get drinks, watch the others. Get drinks, watch the others."

Hunter nodded in affirmation, her mantra also succeeding in keeping himself collected and focused. Usually, Crosshair was his official 'grounding buddy,' if you will, in these types of establishments, keeping a steadying arm around Hunter's shoulders until they found a quieter corner table to sit at. Wrecker also helped by shoving regs or others out of the way to make a clear, unobstructed path so no one would crowd him, and if anyone was occupying the table they desired, let's just say Wrecker's other job was to 'kindly' convince them to politely give it up for his squad.

This was one of the only few instances Sergeant Hunter admitted to needing help. His life was filled with so many explosions and constant blaster fire that the time in between missions was unfortunately not as relaxing as they could be with the after-effects of maintaining control of his senses during missions, his entire being riddled with hypersensitivity that could be set off at a moment's notice. And terrible migraines also plagued him, making the side of his head feel like it was being bashed against the console over and over again.

The second and third days were better and so on, but he still had to be mindful of his symptoms and do his best to not spiral out of control if Wrecker had his holovids on too loud and such. Hunter was thankful they had a larger ship now, because it meant he didn't have to make camp outside when Wrecker was being too loud. He simply huddled up in the cockpit where the insulation and thicker walls/door muffled the noise from the common area enough that it was close to nonexistent.

The only reason Hunter went to these types of places in the first place was because he knew the alcohol would numb his senses and because he also knew the others would somehow manage blow the buildings off the face of the planet without their actions being monitored. Working together, Hunter and Talla made it to the counter without either partner breaking down.

A light blue Twi'leki bartender happily and loudly greeted them, "Hey, Hunter! The others said you were coming! How ya been?"

Having triumphantly made it to their first destination Hunter was able to release some of the pent up tensions... and saw the suggestive look the bartender, Neel, gave him at seeing the couple 'unable to keep their hands off of each other,' and it was followed by a proud thumbs up that said 'My man!'

Hunter sprung away from Talla without thinking she might still need him and was swift to veer the conversation away from him and his alleged date.

The absence of her buddy caused Talla to grip onto something else - the counter's edge - because her ears went from being abused by the ear-splitting tunes to now resonating a shrill ringing of its own creation. She was unable hear anything else until Hunter shook her shoulder a minute or five or ten later, after he'd finished catching up with his bartender friend. Her hysterical gaze shifted from the white knuckles caused by the death grip onto counter to the concerned Hunter looking down at her. "Huh?"

"Whaddya want to drink?" The bartender loudly wanted to know, trying to be patient since people had started forming a line behind the pair of clone soldiers.

Talla's expression was blank, having a hard time trying to make sense of her surroundings with this cursed ear ringing, and the spiked blood pressure was no picnic either. 'Kriff, did I run fifty laps around club and completely forget it?!' Hunter squeezed her shoulder again, silently telling her to come back to the present. "Uh... what do you recommend?" Talla queried back loudly, having zero clue what was good to order or not.

The bartender grinned and was probably chuckling, but she couldn't tell over the roaring music. "First time in a place like this, huh?"

Talla's returned smile was sheepish but still, she discovered that conversing made it easier to keep herself grounded. "Is it that obvious?"

He tossed a hand, dismissing her self-consciousness. "Don't worry, I'll start you off with something easy."

"Or you could just get her a soda?" Hunter interposed, thinking about her undignified reaction to caf.

But Talla immediately belayed that. "I don't want to be a party pooper!" Despite the burning scent she was definitely curious about the intoxicants served here.

Hunter knew he would seriously regret allowing this but relented, unable to say no, and handed the bartender the proper number of credits for their drinks. "Give her a Coruscant Cooler." He hoped a light fruity cocktail would be a good start for someone inexperienced with drinking and would have the least repercussions.

The bartender swiped the money up with an obliging wink. "Coming right up, my friends."

Hunter thought the wink was another tease directed at the previously misread situation, but one look down at the struggling Talla next to him showed she had missed the whole exchange, allowing him to express his concern without too many feelings of discomfort. "You doin' alright?" He asked, perching himself against the counter.

She mimicked his position of casually leaning to see if it'd help. 

It didn't.

She had to suck in another deep breath to try and calm the niggling symptoms of a sensory overload, letting it out slowly. "Well, I haven't lost control yet, so I guess that's a good sign, but it's taking all of my energy and concentration to fight off another attack." Her dilated eyes darted this way and that, wanting to make sense of the blinding strobe lights, equally fluorescent holo-screens portraying different sports matches or something else exciting, clones and other humanoids alike grooving to the thrilling beat. She winced from a high pitch in the strident music, holding her aching head throbbing in tune to the thumping beat. And gave calm Hunter an incredulous once over as he currently looked only marginally affected from the chaotic atmosphere. "How are you okay?!"

He half-shrugged. "It gets a little easier as time goes by, and coming with a group... plus Neel already gave me a shot of somethin' strong to help out."

Talla made a noise of intrigue. "So alcohol sooths the hypervigilance?" Nod. "Duly noted."

'Great, now I have two guzzling kids to monitor.' Hunter mentally rolled his eyes.

He was about to give her the same 'drink in moderation' speech Tech subjected them all to when their initial drinking habits got out of hand, but a sleazy looking Togruta passed them by and gave his unsuspecting companion a once-over of the lewd variety, now aware of the goddess-like and innocent beauty who had delightfully appeared in the vicinity. A surge of protectiveness at a level Hunter had never experienced before made the Sergeant give the bastard an outraged scowl that sent him on his way, but not without another indecent sweep of the alluring Talla who was again too distracted to notice, wondering why a green Twi'lek woman nearby was giving her such a dirty look.

Talla was just standing here, next to Hunter, waiting for their drinks - what could she have possibly done to offend her without actually speaking to her?

After receiving said drinks and giving a small tip of five creds to the slammed bartender, the duo went to see where the other three had set up camp. They had to dodge dancing people and waitress droids on the way up to the second floor and keep firm holds on their drinks so they wouldn't slosh. The rest of the Bad Batch boys were found in a secluded booth in the darkest and quietest corner, the lights bright instead flashing and the music loud as opposed to blaring. It still wasn't ideal circumstances for hypersensitivity, but considering what the alternative was, in many ways it made it easier to maintain.

'Course, the 'hushed' setting was obscured once Wrecker, who appeared well on his way to becoming quote unquote 'blasted,' boomingly greeted them once they arrived. "HEY HUNTER! HEY TAL - WOW, YOU LOOK GREAT!!!"

Talla's smile in hello was strained. She shakily slid into the booth between Wrecker and Hunter, who settled onto the edge of the booth on her left. Wrecker's shouting had effectively wrecked her control and forced her to focus on the bright red mixed drink Hunter had deemed okay for breaking her into the world of intoxication, and she did not respond to her squadmates compliment.

Hunter would have been envious of his brother's ability to deliver a compliment with such ease while he could not, but one look and sniff told him Wrecker was far too gone to feel remotely shy, and he shot a disapproving frown Crosshair's way, who at this moment was 'captivated' in Tech's spiel about the cut of clothes flattering to each of their body shapes and why. After that offhand comment from Nik's girlfriend that insinuated they were so brainbolted as to willingly wear those horrid clothes, the offended genius had apparently taken this as a challenge against his brilliancy and spent the entire duration of Hunter's five-hour appointment researching the latest fashions on Coruscant.

Hmph. No one called exceptionally minded Tech a moof-milker.

Talla curiously sniffed at the red-colored, sweet-scented liquid, followed by a tentative sip. The fruity smell misled her, a burning liquid coating her throat with strange tingling sensations as it went down. Her face screwed up and she gagged, holding a hand to her throat. "Is alcohol supposed to burn like that?" 

Already onto his third mixed drink in the hard liquor category, Wrecker slammed his now empty cup down onto the table with a thud, a loud, satisfied sigh. "YEAH! Ain't it great!"

Reiterating the fact she didn't want to be the party pooper, Talla took another sip with a pensive look on her face... and hummed after. The burning wasn't actually unpleasant the second time around now that she expected it.

Her hesitation to verbally respond made Hunter believe Talla didn't care for it. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. He took it upon himself to he reach out to go and offer, "I can get you a soda -" Something he was more comfortable with her drinking, something he knew wouldn't do more than give her a slight sugar/caffeine high, something he knew wouldn't end with violent puking or passing out.

Something she apparently actually didn't want and made her defensively clutch the drink to her chest. "No I kinda like it, back off." She snapped jokingly.

Hand dropping, he was vastly disappointed and frightened, but Hunter couldn't help but shake his head in amusement even though they were treading in unfamiliar waters now: Talla's first night out on the town, and they had no idea how much alcohol she would in fact be able to handle. Suspecting he would need a sizeable dose of liquid courage to deal with the inevitable mop up later on, Hunter took a large sip of his bottle of beer.

In good time too, because Wrecker shot from his seat and slurred over his shoulder, "I'm gonna get more!" Dear Force, the stagger in his step was already evident. 

"How many drinks can Wrecker have before he becomes... blasted?" Talla wondered to keep the conversation going.

"There is no set pattern." Tech stated frustratingly, pausing his rant about the fashion universe now opened up to him. "Wrecker enjoys diversity in his choice of alcoholic beverages each time we venture into a cantina, resulting in entirely different variations that are impossible to track."

"Doesn't really matter what he has, he just always has too much of it." Hunter's irked point of view was. "And it doesn't help when Crosshair challenges him to a shot contest."

"Not my fault Wrecker always insists on trying to win when he knows he always loses." Crosshair snickered without an ounce of shame and lazily leaned back against the booth seat, resting his head on his clasped hands. His whole aura was giving off more relaxed vibes than Talla had ever seen him possess before.

Hunter could only roll his eyes, not wanting to have this argument again as the Sniper never listened anyways, least of all when he had been drinking.

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Wrecker eventually returned with a drink for each hand this time around.

He, Tech, Talla and Hunter chatted amongst themselves, for even under the influence of the unwinding effect of liquor, Crosshair still wasn't much of a conversationalist.

Talla was told various interesting things that had happened to them in their travels across the galaxy, and the craziest thing that Wrecker did when drunk. It was a tie between joining some Pyke Syndicate wannabe gang or selling the original Havoc Marauder to some bishwag for, ironically, a Coruscant Cooler after the bartender cut him off. Hunter was right when he said that focusing on the tasks at hand helped keep them grounded, and that the spiked drinks made it easier. Talla focused on the friendly conversation and Wrecker, who after already having four drinks decided that he would be the one to initiate a shot contest with Crosshair, and to Hunter's chagrin invited the lightweight Clone Agent to join.

"Absolutely not." Hunter forbade sternly, for though she seemed fine now he didn't want to risk it.

"Aw, c'mon Sarge!" Wrecker begged, words running together. "She can handle it!"

"Just let her join, Hunter." Surprisingly, Crosshair sided with Wrecker.

A suspicious brow was raised at him, but the youngest of the brothers managed to keep his features neutral so as not to reveal whether he was being uncharacteristically friendly due to the effects of the two strong drinks he had finished, or if he was reeling her in only to get her blasted and see if Talla would be just as hilarious drunk as she was when on an extreme caffeine/sugar high.

Whatever his intentions were, Talla perked up when Crosshair joined in on the invitation, "I'm in!" And she once again took the bait hook, line, and sinker, understanding this as being he was finally accepting her into the group!

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🚫 TRIGGERING SCENE 🚫

Hunter protested again, but Wrecker shoved enough credits in her hand to get a bottle of good ol' Correllian Whiskey... Well at least, the cheaper knockoff, and the next thing Hunter knew Talla was clambering over him to complete her mission of supplying fun for the troops, not waiting for him to decide whether he'd politely get up to let her out. A sharp elbow might have jabbed his exposed neck, but she was too focused on wanting to fuel this hopefully newfound friendship with Crosshair to comprehend the resulting gag of pain.

Talla zeroed in on the bar counter below, and made it there safely, the slight buzz from her light fruity beverage taking some of the edge off. Surprisingly she found an empty barstool and was quick to claim it, seeing that there were almost twice as many people as there were an hour ago. She was pleased that it did not automatically send her into a downward spiral.

Neel the bartender was running around like a mad man trying to fulfill everyone's orders as fast as he could, and Talla was wondering why he didn't have more help when the very same Togruta who had been so rudely dismissed by Hunter earlier, after expressing interest in the skull-faced man's enticing companion, now noticed the reappearance of attractive woman.

And she was alone. Without the rude skull-faced man.

Up close and personal now, he found himself still liking what he saw. Her outfit was modest compared to the other women who frequented the bar but it was definitely flattering and accentuated her defined curves nicely, and most of her lightly toned upper back was exposed through a large keyhole, revealing the unblemished, soft, warm ivory hued skin. She was in shape, but not grossly muscular, and appeared to be a natural beauty whose face didn't need to be caked with excessive makeup like others here did for a night out in the city, nor did she need to wear revealing clothes to tempt him. So, "You're a rare find in a place like this." Was his opening line with the aim to charm her.

The worldly stylist friends Talla made had warned her that a sleazy guy or two would try and get her to notice them, but she should immediately rebuff their advances. This guy though, to the untrained eye, looked visibly harmless, his smile mellow and inviting... even though his intense gaze was admittedly unsettling. But he was conventionally handsome, Talla could not deny that. Yet an unsure, tight and close-lipped smile was his only response before she returned to the task at hand.

Neel noticed her a second later, breathlessly took her order and filed it away, three large orders from sizeable groups ahead of her measly one. He ran around the bar like a headless Porg, cursing the fast droid server whose circuits just had to fry on the busiest night of the week.

The unquestionable rejection didn't work on the Togruta. He persisted in trying to break the ice with Talla, who he perceived as being anxious in this party ambience, which was a perfect angle to work with. "What's a beauty like you doing here tonight?"

The compliment ruffled her feathers, and she couldn't decide if it was for good or bad reasons, and a perturbed glance was thrown back at him. She shifted in her seat with the same uneasy feelings, losing focus of her goal. "I'm uh, here with my squad on our last night on Coruscant before we're deployed again." Talla answered politely. The only reason why she ignored Blair and Skylar's warnings to just send him on his way was because of the memory of how things were handled with the soldier back on Kamino, who had invaded her personal space bubble without her consent. She got into massive trouble as a result, so it wouldn't hurt to just be polite to this guy, right? He hadn't touched her without her consent as she had learned to be a major red flag - that was a good sign, right?

"Ah, you're a soldier?" He asked conversationally. The interest would have sounded fake and hollow to more experienced ears though.

Talla made a noise of affirmation. "A clone soldier, actually."

That smile dropped. "You're a clone?"

"Yeah."

He blankly stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time. It was surprising that after, Talla was met with chuckling, as if she had just told the funniest joke in the history of jokes. "Right, and I'm the Queen of Naboo."

Slowly shaking her head Talla laughed along herself, mostly out of nerves. "I'm - I'm not joking." The amusement was wiped from his face. "I'm a new type of clone that the Kaminoans created for the Grand Army, that's why I don't look like the million others."

Once again this man was rendered speechless, then that amiable smile plastered on his face again. "You're definitely not like the other clones."

As this was another compliment, Talla nervously huffed a laugh again, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear bashfully.

Satisfied with getting confirmation she was an easy target, the man reached into his leather jacket pocket and pulled out two strange sticks with glowing markings. He kept the orange one for himself, placing it between his lips, while benevolently holding the red one out to her in an offer to help herself.

The clear warning rang through her mind: 'Don't take drinks from strangers.' Talla shook her head. "No thank you."

His grin was inviting as he took out the glowing rod in his mouth, "Ah come on, I can see how tense you are!" The red glowstick held out to her was wiggled enticingly, "This'll relax you a lot faster than that weak excuse for a drink you ordered, and then you can actually enjoy the party! It's obviously your first one, and the first one should be memorable."

Hope bloomed inside her, since returning to the main area of the club an impending sensory overload came right back full force. And even back at the quieter booth there was still a touch of hypervigilance present. The Clone Agent agreed with this man's attitude over her predicament, really wanting to enjoy her very first night out on the town ever, not ruin things for the others, and he was kindly offering to share his secret on how to, noticing her discomfort in this hectic atmosphere. How kind! 

Blair and Skylar said nothing about taking kind help from strangers - THEY WERE, in fact, STRANGERS who kindly offered to and did help her, and nothing bad had come from it.

The Togruta was beyond pleased when she accepted the rod with no inkling whatsoever that the red ones in his pack held the power to make her completely impressionable to do whatever he so desired. Yes, both colored rods were made with illicit substances, but the orange ones he kept for himself would only give him a slight buzz while she would lose all control of her faculties from the different concoction.

It required a small demonstration on how to use it since Talla never came across a creation like this and he was vague on his answers as to what it exactly was, calmly telling her it had the same relaxing qualities as alcohol except it would work much faster, especially since this was her first one.

She embarrassingly thought at first it was something she ate like a piece of candy. No, one end was lit and then the side that was not smoldering she would hold to her lips between her index and middle fingers. She should take in short drafts at first, so that it would prevent a bout of nausea, then let the smoke cool down in her mouth so it wouldn't irritate her throat as it was next allowed to be inhaled into her lungs, then she simply released the used smoke through her mouth again several seconds later after the relaxant was swiftly absorbed into her system.

"The key to your tranquility," He said, "Is just in this itty-bitty little thing you smoke, and within minutes after the first drafts it starts giving you feelings of nothing but pure bliss," He winked, entrapping Talla being the easiest task he'd ever done, "You'll find it much more effective than having three or four drinks over the course of several hours." 

He had considerately prepared it for her and when she hesitated, took the first few puffs himself to make sure it was lit properly, knowing such a micro taste to an experienced user like him would have little to no strength over him. Talla didn't know that something as repulsive as smoke could actually bear an intoxicating scent she was instantly drawn to like a moth to a bright light. It smelled like something sweet, and sweets hadn't let her down yet, and he'd tried it too, so it must be safe! These facts made her bravely take that first small puff of the substance after another gentle verbal nudge from the kind man who called himself Rhyden. The aromatic smoke was promising, giving her feel-good vibes already, and she had such high hopes for its soothing qualities guaranteed by this generous patron-

But like with the caf the scent was misleading, as the experience with the substance itself was beyond revolting. A short coughing fit was followed by a strangle-toned relay of her experience, "Oh wow um -" She held the side of her free hand up to her lips, wanting to subdue the nausea that came even though she followed his instructions perfectly, "That was definitely something..." Her eyes looked detestably upon the smoldering stick perched between her digits, the sweet scent no longer wonderful now that she knew how the smoke actually felt like being inhaled, "Something that's just plain awful."

Rhyden implored her to give it a few tries before making a final decision to continue or not, knowing a few good drafts would inevitably hook her a few minutes later when the drug kicked in and she'd give into the euphoria.

And Talla did want to like it, she really did, to avoid rudeness at his fake generosity, but the three minuscule puffs she could only bear to take were more and more nasty each passing time, and by the third one she was feeling quite woozy either due to the substance he claimed would calm her or because of the smoke she was breathing in. Now that Talla thought about it, it was an ironic concept considering she always had to make her helmet filters were up to standards so she wouldn't inhale the deadly toxins smoke came with, and without a second thought she discarded the stick on a little tray laying on the counter with a shudder, "I'm sorry, I can't accept your help, Rhyden." She apologized. 'Force, where is Neel with the drinks?' Talla wanted to wash away the nasty taste in her mouth! "It's just too disgusting, and frankly I don't feel any more relaxed than I did before trying it."

'Kriff, I was so close.' Rhyden's gentleness... Now turned into slight aggression. He became desperate, not wanting to put forth all this effort only to receive nothing in the end. He had to hope she had smoked enough to have a measure of disorientation along with the nativity characteristic she possessed.

This woman who claimed to be a clone seemed to have a headache, massaging her temples with a grimace, so perhaps she would still bow to the power of suggestion from a friendly stranger who was concerned about her well-being. His temporary quarters while planetside was located in the shifty inn through the dark alleyway next to the bar - if he could just convince her to go rest someplace quiet... And if she became feisty from suspicion at seeing the disreputable surroundings, it wouldn't be hard to overpower this creature who was half his size. The reputation of this place: they turned a blind eye to what happened as long as they got paid. He was just another guy bringing his drunk girlfriend who'd partied too hard back to their shared room.

Alas, Rhyden made the grave mistake of clamping his hand around her wrist, touching her without her consent, the very red flag Talla had been taught to recognize and flee from. "How about we go outside then? Get some fresh air?"

Talla wasn't as far gone as he believed, the alarm bells in her head giving a loud and clear signal that this wasn't okay, and there was something shifty about him that was plain as day now with fresh eyes after this outwardly innocent, but realistically invasive act. The mirth in his eyes was gone now, replaced with a sinister spark, and his hand that had been so tender with its touches as it helped her was now like unbreakable binders locked around her wrist.

Thankfully, to her knowledge there wasn't a cuff out there that couldn't be broken by her enhanced strength, least of all a man's flimsy hold. His upturned lips snapped downwards when Talla effortlessly broke free from the grip that no other woman he'd trapped had ever been able to do. Talla was quick to haughtily cross her leg and shift so that her back was slightly turned towards him, tossing her hair over her shoulder with queen-like energy even though it made her dizziness worse, thinking that he would get the hard-to-miss hint that she didn't want his help anymore.

'But Force, where are those stupid drinks?!' Extremely agitated now that she didn't have a proper distraction or hopeless promises of instantaneous relief, Talla craved the second-best solution to ending her turmoil that was enhanced senses. If she gulped down fast enough, perhaps it wouldn't take hours for it to take effect.

Unfortunately, Rhyden was not going to give up a good time so easily.

Because Talla was miserably trying to focus on not losing it, she was too distracted not to notice his movement toward her again and felt his rough hand travel down her bare back and she indignantly whipped around, but he beat her to speaking first. "How about I buy you a drink instead, hm?" He forcefully suggested with a lopsided grin that was now seen as a charming facade that was given away by his darkened eyes. "Since the smoking didn't tickle your fancy?"

"No thank you." She ground out.

"Come on, babe." He reached out his hand to flirtily brush a loose wisp of hair behind her ear.

But hyperalert this time she caught his hand by the wrist before it made contact with her flushed cheeks. "No. Means. No." Talla enunciated the simple concept, rage flowing through her like molten lava.

Like a switch going off, Rhyden's eyes went from dark with heinous desire to wide with unbridled fear when he heard the bones in his wrist crunch from the inhuman pressure she was beginning to apply. "L-let me go!" Rhyden begged to no avail, pain exploding in his wrist.

Nope, her grip only tightened, and trying to wriggle free only made it worse. He yelped, catching the attention of other patrons nearby, and to her luck, Neel had left the counter to go find that bottle of whiskey she had ordered for the team. Under normal circumstances Talla would have been kicked out like the other customers who caused a disturbance.

Talla continued to give him her best heated glare despite the haziness of her mind, and considered snapping his wrist like a twig out of pure spite to teach him a lesson on manners, but a firm hand being placed on her shoulder caused her to whip around at lightning quick speed to fight off the next handsy, ill-mannered creep who dared lay a slimy finger on her, only to freeze her assault when it turned out to just be her Sergeant, and the rest of the squad who circled around to her defense.

"Let him go, Talla." Hunter ordered, though he had a fierce glare of his own trained on Rhyden, itching to unleash his own fury at the Togruta for his despicable intentions against a teammate, as did the rest of the boys. Including CROSSHAIR of all people!

Following orders like a good soldier Talla did release Rhyden, but only after one final unforgiving squeeze to give him a lovely, unforgettable parting gift - a one way ticket to the emergency clinic for a pulverized wrist. He blubbered like a baby from the breath-sucking pain that didn't relent even after being released, pathetically cradling his mangled wrist to his chest, all the cockiness he usually glowed with now sucked out of him by this freakishly strong woman he had stupidly crossed, and the not one but four scary men she had come here with.

Rhyden nearly crapped his pants. "I'll... just be going now." He ducked his head and timidly excused himself, flying from his stool to flee from this batch of crazies.

But Wrecker latched onto the front of his shirt and hoisted him into the air, so that they were face to face. "You mess with Talla, you mess with me." He threatened in a frightening voice saved for such special occasions as dealing with bad people like him, still coherent enough to understand what had almost happened.

"Wh-who's messing with anyone?" Rhyden's laugh was nervous. "I certainly wasn't!"

Obvious to everyone by his frightened pitch, he lied like a rug now. With an air of superiority Crosshair stepped up to the flailing male, the blade he brought skillfully weaving across his lithe fingers that never failed him when it came to flinging a weapon at a target with pinpoint accuracy. "I'd apologize to Special Agent Talla if I were you." He requested nicely, his actions telling the bastard that even if he managed to escape Wrecker's grasp (unlikely) Crosshair could still teach him a lesson from afar.

Frantically, Rhyden's attention was snapped back to the alleged soldier. "I'm sorry if I was out of line, Agent!"

"IF?" Tech barked, Wrecker tightening his hold around Rhydens shirt with enough force that it started to choke the perp. Tech was sporting a similar state of ferocity pulsing through his veins after he noticed the smoldering death stick Talla had been coerced into using, now, thankfully, lying on the discard tray. Tech avoided confrontation like the blue shadow virus, but sometimes it was justly required, especially if a teammate was being mistreated by an outsider to this degree. In this instance, avoidance was all thrown out the window and Tech was close to taking the blade from Crosshair's hand and carving up Rhyden's despicable face himself.

"WAS!" Rhydean choked out, "I WAS of line, and I'm sorry!"

Hunter glared at him for a moment longer to make a point... before a sharp motion with his head signaled Wrecker to release the piece of rakeweed. After being shamelessly dumped to the ground, the coward scrambled to his feet and made a beeline towards the exit.

To the Bad Batch's bafflement everyone who had witnessed the honorable scuffle, regs and other humanoid species alike began thunderously applauding at their heroics! Some even giving a few whoops and hollers, and others shoved, taunted, or tossed their half-full bottles/glasses at Rhyden as he scurried out of the establishment, a path of shattered glass and splattered liquid in his wake.

"You okay, Talla?" Wrecker decided to step around her stool and ask, since Hunter's glare was still following where the male went amongst the commotion.

Only when he noted which direction Rhyden fled in once outside is when Hunter transferred his attention onto said team member, also hoping she was alright, before a whiff of something foul made him crinkle his nose.

Letting out a sharp breath of relief now that the creep was gone, Talla smiled grimly up at Wrecker in appreciation. "Yeah -"

"Were you smoking?!" Hunter demanded in horror.

Talla frowned deeply at his rigid tone that was saved exclusively for her, she A nonchalant shrug followed, and she said as if it was no big deal, not seeing it actually was. "He offered me something to smoke, saying it would help me relax."

"Hunter." By his own serious tone, Tech breathlessly received his older brother's rapt attention, the brainy clone showing him the stick with the glow starting to dwindle, but nonetheless identifiable. And used.

Hunter almost went into cardiac arrest. "He gave you a death stick?!"

Talla's already thumping heart rhythm suffered an even more distressful spike at this reveal of the disgusting things' name, an item she had been strictly cautioned to not partake of. 

"And you smoked it?!" Crosshair would have followed Hunter into the Great Beyond two beats later. "Have you gone spacesick?!"

Talla stammered for a bit, mind reeling from everything that had and was currently still happening tonight, nerves torn to shreds, "He - he said it would just give me the same serenity as alcohol, only faster! I thought it was a palliative remedy of some sort - I had no idea that it was a death stick - I had no idea that's what they looked like!"

'Force help us,' the Sniper face-palmed, and his exasperated words were muffled behind his palm that was dragged down his face in utter disbelief, "The description is in the name, di'kut."

"Yeah, but in my head I, I don't know, imagined tiny skull and crossbones on it somewhere to show it was... bad. And I didn't know they glowed." The reasoning sounded pathetic now that it was voiced, but it was the truth. And Talla had been thoroughly stupid tonight. And ruined things for everyone, just as predicted.

Tech steered the conversation away from her lack of life experience, "It does not appear that you inhaled the full dose -"

"Thank the Force." Wrecker breathed in relief at the near miss.

The fact that Wrecker, who always acted like he didn't have a care in the world, was actually wearing a solemn expression on his face even after guzzling down enough alcohol to kill a bantha, this showed Talla that this was one of those life-or-death matters, and the wind was knocked out of her lungs, "What would have happened if I did take the full dose of this death stick?" She suspected the one Rhyden had given her wouldn't have just sent her into a state of pure bliss, that it was of the drugs the girls had warned her about: Date-rape drugs. Talla needed it to be confirmed, but at the same time NOT.

"Erm." Tech shared a hesitant glance with his brothers, uncomfortable elaborating further, but his need to spew forth knowledge others did not possess forced him to, "Most of the time death sticks are used recreationally and give the user a twisted version of reality enhanced by bright colors, but there are other varieties of these illicit substances that have vastly different outcomes and I suspect this particular one would have simply caused loss of your inhibitions so he could easily lead you to a secluded place where he would have -"

'Be tactful in your phrasing,' Hunter's sharp sideways glance commanded him,

"- um... had his way with you."

"Which is precisely why you don't take anything you can ingest from people you don't know." Crosshair growled irately, Talla stunned into silence, "You're a grown woman Talla, and this is basic Stranger Danger knowledge!"

Being reprimanded like she was a child, it irritated her even though it was deserved, and made her explosive tendencies flare as it raised her self-loathing intensity by quantum leaps and made her snarky out of defense, "Oh forgive me, my Master, for not knowing the ways of the galaxy by now and connecting the navpoints sooner A WHOLE WEEK after being released of my sheltered life -" A finger was shoved towards his face and he recoiled lest he lose an eye, "Most of which was spent confined in a hospital by the way!"

Any further chiding from the Sniper was silenced by a large whiskey bottle slammed down onto the counter next to them, the bartenders timing with their order a life saver, and he left without any indication that he knew what had happened five minutes ago, and without the other half of the order.

So they were off the hook, and Talla was without her liquid sanity.

🚫 END OF TRIGGERING SCENE 🚫

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter held to his promise of doing better by Talla and dismissed the others, telling them to take the bottle and go have their fun, the underlying meaning behind his suggestion though being 'Let me handle this.'

Elbows propping up on the counter, Talla's spacey-feeling head fell into her hands once they were out of earshot, guilt being the next emotion welling up within her. "Well, hasn't this turned out to be a fun night?" She spat.

'Being encouraging requires gentleness.' Hunter reminded himself. He massaged the back of his neck in anticipation, hoping and praying he wouldn't mess this up any more than it already was, and found his place on the vacated seat next to her. His head tilted slightly to try and catch Talla's gaze, "How ya feeling?" Hunter figured should be the first question, and it was able to be softly said as a slow, melodious beat had started to play on the dancefloor.

Talla avoided his inquisitiveness by refusing to tear her gaze away from a very interesting mark on the counter, "'How am I feeling?'" But couldn't hide the scathing element in her response for his dumb question, "Are you blind or something, isn't it obvious I feel like hell?"

Such a biting remark should have been expected from the woman's exposure to Crosshair, and yet, Hunter still found himself surprised as her new dramatic look actually reflected her emerging fiery personality. "I'm lookin' for specific symptoms here." He chuckled awkwardly. 

Her shoulders slumped, seeing her mistake, "Oh. Sorry." Hunter's concern was rewarded with this apology, and Talla doing a quick mental body scan now that she knew what his question really meant. She finally looked sadly into his worried eyes, "I'm a little woozy, I guess, but I think it's from the mental breakdown I'm trying to fight - no biggie." She jested with a half-shrug.

"That's a relief." Hunter breathed. Her eyebrows snapped together, offended. "Not that you're overwhelmed, but that you're not high!"

Muttering a depressed 'oh,' Talla's eyes once again traveled to her folded arms on the counter.

The liquid courage Hunter had two bottles of prompted him to bravely tackle this whole 'attentive' thing. "Anything else?" He gently pressed further. 

A long sigh was heaved before she admitted, "Is loathing my very existence a symptom?"

"Of self-esteem issues." And Hunter resentfully reminded himself, 'That I've partially caused.' He leaned his elbows against the counter too, openly showing his interest in her. "Wanna tell me what's running through that head of yours?"

This was something 99 would ask the Bad Batch brothers when they were upset, and Hunter was surprised it had come from his mouth, but this question was actually more effective than trying to guess and put words into the suffering party's mouth. 'Maybe I should get people lessons from 99.' Hunter decided.

Because he was definitely not prepared to see Talla's eyes become misty as she spilled her guts out. "I look like a grown woman, I talk like a grown woman, but in reality, I'm nothing more than an ignorant child -" She barked a low laugh with no mirth, "No, a brainless meat droid who doesn't know a thing about how the real-world works."

It took Hunter a moment to find some sort of comforting sentence, "It's only been a week." He winced silently as it only made her more unhinged.

"Yeah, but everywhere I turn I'm reminded of how inexperienced I am and - UGH, you wouldn't understand!" Talla declared with a pout.

"Wanna bet?" His voice was laden with hilarity.

This baffled her. 'What could possibly be funny about this night of disappointment?'

"Picture this, Talla: Four shiny's fresh out of Kamino shortly after the Battle of Geonosis." This stellar opener and his almost animated features hooked the Agent. Sniffling, she dabbed the corners of her watering eyes with her finger so the mascara and eyeliner wouldn't smear and gave her full attention to the picture being painted. "Us inexperienced batch of clone rejects are waiting for our very first assignment here in the great capital city of Coruscant, the war not widespread enough to have immediate deployment, and we check out this place that had advertised on the HoloNet they catered to the troops of the Republic."

"79's." Talla filled in flatly.

"Yes."

"Great story."

Hunter scoffed. "I'm just getting started."

So she lazily leaned her head against her hand, but was twisted sideways on her stool to face the stick in the mud who turned out to be a fascinating storyteller as the tale progressed.

Hunter's unusual dash of liveliness was fueled by his mild intoxication, and unbeknownst to Talla the need to see her at least crack a smile, signaling that her spirits had been lifted and her evening saved. He was glad for the quieter tunes playing so she could have a brief moment of solace from the irritated enhanced senses. "Psyched at the prospect of trying real, flavorful food after the bland grub served at the mess hall in Tipoca, us deprived souls kinda went nuts after that first glorious bite, and ordered any and every type of food and beverage on the menu that sounded tasty."

'Oh.'

"For hours we ate and drank until our hearts were content, and then even more shoveled down on top of that until we were completely blue in the face." A carefree shrug, "Not a problem, we could just go back to the Marauder and sleep this off, right?" Talla quirked an intrigued brow, egging him on, and he mimicked his brother's tendency to raise a finger as he went on a long rant, "Wrong. We had no idea you had to pay money for whatever food and drinks you consumed in establishments like this."

Talla froze. 'OH.'

He sensed her realization at the demeaning part of the memory coming up, and nodded 'Yeah' to confirm her fears. "As we staggered towards the exit the bartender flagged us down, and he angrily demanded the hoard of creds I refuse to specify the number of that was the payment for our extravagant five course meals, half consisting of cheap foods and beverages and the other half some of their most expensive brands and exotic imported foods." Talla had to hide a smile behind her hand, trying to pass it off as checking to make sure her lipstick wasn't rubbing off, knowing it was hypocritical to laugh considering what she had put them through tonight. "Well, when we revealed our measly clone allowance, we were taken by the scruffs of our necks, forced to hunch over a sink, and scrubbed dirty dishes until we received our first assignment two days later to pay off part of the tab that Tech labeled as 'extortion' since that hard labor wasn't deemed enough. We had to repeat this process the next four times we were in town to make up the rest. This visit is actually the only one where we haven't had to scrub dishes because we finally did pay off the deluxe-sized tab last time we came to town on... our fifth visit."

It was useless to try and hide the smile, Talla's shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter giving her away, and after releasing her mouth from its prison her voice was overflowing with the feeling of mirth, "You didn't notice the prices clearly displayed on the menu?!"

Hunter gave an exaggerated huff of annoyance, but to this day the sentiment was still very much real, "Tech did, and when asked why he didn't say anything he went -"

"'I thought it was obvious.'" They recited together.

"And that, Talla, is the story of how we came to know Neel. He grew to understand our inexperience after a few months of dealing with thousands of other clone troopers, but the moral of the story is that no one will understand what you're going through more than us. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you're pretty lucky."

The spark left her eyes, "How'd you plot that course?" She muttered darkly. None of what had happened to her felt lucky.

"You have willing champions in at least three of us who are more than happy to help you figure out all this 'life after deployment' stuff... Tech and Wrecker are better at it though," He admitted while his hand anxiously found its way to the back of his neck again, "I'm still trying to figure out how to adjust to these new circumstances, if I'm being totally honest."

Why was he being so honest? He'd never admitted his weaknesses to his subordinates before. And hearing how he'd actually made Talla laugh made his heart flutter. 

He changed the subject to save face. "If you want, we can leave." Hunter suggested courteously. "I understand if you don't want to stay," He grimaced as the music volume was turned up to a thousand again and the amplified base caused everything to quake, "And I think I've had my fill of partying for the next ten years."

His discomfort was worth it though when Hunter came face to face with a brightly smiling Talla anew. "Thank you for your consideration, but I've been inspired by your speech to not feel sorry for myself or let one ill-mannered guy spoil all the fun!"

Man, he was getting the hang of this 'attentive' thing. And the reward of Talla being happy was the best one Hunter had ever received.

Chapter Text

(HUNTER'S POV)

Hunter sent a short glare to both Wrecker and Crosshair, one perhaps innocent but the other definitely not.

His eyes next zeroed in on the retreating figure of Talla until she was out of his line of sight, worried sick the enhanced clone would end up having another sensory overload walking through the thick crowds all by herself. Hopefully he'd been a good mentor and his lesson had made an impact on her already.

It was hard enough having an intelligent conversation with Wrecker when he was sober, but Tech tried. On the other hand, Hunter's fingers tapped against his bottle of beer in an anxious rhythm of his own creation and Crosshair, who wanted the simple pleasure of enjoying the electrifying music already playing around them, rolled his eyes and drawled, "If you're going to do that, at least serenade us with something tasteful, perhaps a song from Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes?"

Hunter scowled, but stopped anyways to keep some of the peace. For what felt like an eternity he struggled maintaining control over his stress at letting Talla wander the bar without an escort. His second choice of anxious tics practically frayed the edge of his tunic from insistent fiddling between his index finger and thumb.

'What in the blazes is wrong with you?! You never worry this much over your own brothers.'

'She's naive!'

'So we're you once and you survived! Besides, if anyone tried messing with her, you know she'd rip their arm off.' 

'Still!'

'You're supposed to be the level-headed leader! Don't lose your cool over a stupid girl you can't have!'

Wrecker finally noticed the Agent had been gone for a while too. "What's takin' Talla so long?"

This was enough of an invitation for Hunter to bolt from his seat, sound reasoning be damned.

He zigzagged through the crowd and gripped the railing of the second floor, peering over into the buzzing party below. It was hard to miss Talla, that hair not doing any favors for her stealth, and by the looks of it she was having a rough time, hunched over in her stool and face twisted in discomfort.

Hunter's gaze flicked to the left and he saw why. If he had enhanced strength the railing would have snapped like a toothpick when his hands seized, a white-hot burning sensation coursing through in his chest. 'The Tog from earlier, that son of a mudscuffer cornered her!' Hunter had been in bars often enough to know that pervs like him roamed the establishments to find their prey, and Talla had become this one's.

Her body language showed her obvious disinterest in talking with the guy, but Hunter glowered as he didn't take the hint and put his grubby hand on her. He would have hurled himself over the railing, just like his common sense, if Crosshair hadn't caught up to him just in time and literally restricted him from doing so.

Talla without a doubt rejected the Togruta's advances. "She's a big girl, she can handle herself." Crosshair reminded Hunter, not wanting him to do anything rash or stupid. His protective Sergeant mode was in Corellian Overdrive right now, and the Sniper rarely told his CO what to do, but even Hunter was bound to have reckless moments at times and that's when Crosshair, his impromptu second in command, was forced to be the voice of reason.

Hunter's hands clenched even more if that was possible, and Crosshair would be surprised if there weren't indents of his fingers on the poor metal railing, the thin skin over his knuckles as white as a force ghost and close to splitting. But thank the Force Hunter listened to Crosshair and slowly let a calming breath wind down the tension that had accumulated in his shoulders and neck -

Only to snap to attention when the guy didn't let up and ran that same grubby hand down her bare back and Talla whipped around, clearly escalating into the distress category.

"That's it!" Hunter growled, but thankfully darted away from the railing instead of leaping over it and his brothers followed, also agreeing that it was time to intervene. Hunter created path by shoving people and droids out of the way, the burning sensation in his chest getting hotter by the second as his mind tortuously replayed the guy's inappropriate actions towards Talla, and her resulting distress at this new, definitely uncomfortable situation.

Needless to say, Hunter was impressed and so relieved when he found Talla handling the situation quite well as opposed to what he observed from above - he threw up a hand to abruptly stop his brothers hustling.

Amidst the grunts and curses behind him when Tech ran smack dab into Wreckers back and Crosshair did the same to the brainiac, Hunter could hear the satisfying crackling coming from Talla's grip on the creep's wrist, wearing a glare of her own so heated it probably was hotter than the flames on Mustafar. And it did the trick. The man no longer leered at her but had a look of true terror on his face - as he should!

Hunter still decided to interfere, not because he thought Talla was helpless but because he knew that she was capable of breaking his wrist, and he really didn't want to be kicked out of the bar they had just been given permission to be patrons in instead of forced into 'child labor, ' another nifty little phrase Tech labeled the dishwashing as to see if it would make Neel let them go free since they were, technically, only 'four years old' at the time.

It didn't.

Maintaining his dagger-like glare aimed at the bastard Hunter and his deadly crew approached the scuffle, and he put a restraining hand on Talla's shoulder which of course startled the trained Agent, but the defensive attitude dropped when it registered it was just him. "Let him go, Talla." Hunter sternly ordered, though he wouldn't have shed a tear if she took that blade holstered in her boot and gutted him like a ghest. He didn't reprimand Talla for following through on the wrist pulverizing, actually giving her a pat on the shoulder that said 'Nicely done!'

And when she didn't protest the contact, Hunter kept that reassuring hand on Talla, and proudly watched their other teammates flex intimidation tactics, making the perv apologize for his actions, thoroughly making him wish he hadn't messed her. Hunter narrowed his steely eyes on the creep leave as he fled the bar.

Dealing with the attempted drugging of Talla was a blur. While victoriously building up Talla, at the back of his mind all that Hunter could think about was how in his eyes, the Tog got off easy. A guy like him surely had other victims before Talla, and if he was allowed to roam free, there'd undoubtedly be others after her. It was most likely the soldier in Hunter, sworn to protect the innocent, that influenced his rash actions after Talla left the bar counter to join the others in the shot contest, hopefully not started without her.

Hunter gave a believable excuse - ''Need to use the 'fresher'' - which would buy him five to ten minutes considering the crowds. That was all he needed, granted the slime ball hadn't high tailed it out of the general area of the building.

He poked around a bit and used his tracking abilities the best he could under the chaotic circumstances, with loud, cheering people and the myriads of different scents that overwhelmed his sensitive nose. Hunter ended up finding that Rhyden hadn't gone too far, and was pitifully huddled in the alleyway to the right of the building, cradling his right wrist that was swelling up and tinting into unnatural, sickish hues.

Hunter's fury sprang back to life full throttle, and after a slight detour he stalked towards the whimpering man. "Hey, you!" He bellowed to be heard over the chaos of the streets.

Head snapping up, Rhyden saw the menacing guy with a kriffing skull tattooed on his face making a bee-line for him. Hunter was out for his blood, and his eyes bugging out Rhyden's went to scramble away for his life.

But the vengeful Sarge was one step ahead of him, whipping out his vibroblade and launched it with such force and accuracy that it pinned the guys jacket sleeve to the wall with a CLANG! making it impossible for Rhyden to pull free. And boy he did try.

Hunter cast an intimidating shadow over the huddled male, so Rhyden threw up his unpinned hand. "Look look, I already said I was sorry!"

"You're not sorry for what you did, you're sorry you got caught." Hunter seethed. Leaning down he abruptly wrenched his blade free, but fisted his other hand into Rhyden's jacket before being able flee. Hunter slammed him back against the durasteel wall, earning a pained grunt from Rhyden, but the Sarge was just getting started. Seeing red, he pressed his sharp blade against the sick man's neck to cease the struggling, unless Rhyden wanted to accidentally slice his own neck open. "I didn't want to get us kicked out of the bar, but we're not in the bar anymore, are we?"

Rhyden visibly gulped at the fire in Hunter's eyes that was much scarier up close but he immediately regretted that because it caused the glowing blade to actually nick the thin skin it was pressed against. His wince was the best song Hunter had heard all night.

'Boy I was off my game tonight!' Rhyden woefully thought. Usually, he was good at picking out chicks who didn't have fierce protectors like this. "H-hey I've got a couple hundred creds on me!" He feebly bribed, scooping the pouch out of his pocket and shoving it in Hunter's face. "If you let me go, it's yours!"

Hunter's scowl intensifyed, "I don't want your money."

Rhyden would have taken back that bribe if he could since the blade piercing his skin now drew a thin line of blood. Whimpering, Rhyden shrieked, "THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Hoping it would catch the attention of the nearby Coruscant Guard. 'Force, I can't believe how badly this night turned out, I usually RUN from the authorities!' 

"I want to slice your head off," Hunter growled, "But that'd get me locked up for murder and frankly I'd rather see you behind the ray shield."

Rhyden did think his pained cries caught the attention of the shock troopers patrolling the area, and he made a noise of triumph since Hunter looked like the assaulter in this scenario. He proceeded to exaggerate his look of pure terror as the trio marched up to the pair, and he waved them down like a mad man, "Thank goodness you're here, this big bag of crazy came at me for no reason!"

What Rhyden didn't know was that Hunter's previous detour consisted of making the druggers illegal actions known to the Guard. "Your sixty seconds are up." The Sergeant, standing in the middle, informed Hunter. He'd allowed Hunter one minute alone with this guy to 'Kindly educate him about the dangers of drugs' when he told them Rhyden had tried to take advantage of his clueless friend - this evening was this particulars reg trio's first day on the job, so in a way they were clueless too, and eager to take criminal scum down a peg even if it wasn't by the book.

Frankly they were disappointed when the perp hadn't lost an eye in a terrible accident from a crash course in knife throwing.

Hunter dropped the confused perp, who let out a choked sound of relief, clutching his stinging throat... and was not expecting a hard fist to collide with his nose. A sickening CRACK! filled the air. He crumpled to the ground, a heap of cries and tears from the blinding pain that made him swear he saw stars! "I THINK YOU BROKE MY NOSE!!!!"

Hunter wiped the back of his hand on his pants as if he just touched something dirty, the reg Sergeant simpering along with him at seeing the blood flowing out of Rhyden's nostrils like a waterfall. "Ah, now that was worth the price of admission." The reg Sergeant joked. 

With his unbroken hand Rhyden cupped his gushing broken nose, gaping up at the three chuckling police officers. 

"How long you reckon he'll be locked up for?" Hunter asked, crossing his arms in superiority and hoping for 'the rest of his miserable life.'

By latching onto his jacket collar one reg officer roughly forced the Togruta to stand, purposely twisting his injured wrist behind his back and earning a satisfying yowl. The reg Sergeant patted him down and found the pack of death sticks in an inside jacket pocket. "Depends on the drug and drug amount, but I'd say anywhere between six months to two years." Hunter's surly lip curl revealed his lack of satisfaction that what happened in the bar would not even be considered, and the clone trooper sympathized, "I know, but attempted rape is hard to prove, especially if your girlfriend -"

"Friend." Hunter insinuated, hearing Talla being called his girlfriend making him feel nauseated.

"Sorry -" The reg immediately said, 'Yeah, right, 'friend' my ass.' He resisted an eye roll, "If your friend was intoxicated, it'll make her story unreliable."

"Sir." The third officer held up a datapad with Rhyden's face scanned into the system, revealing a long list of offenses ranging from complaints to actual charges. "This perv's name is Osian Cai and there's a warrant out for his arrest on seventeen different planets, including Coruscant, for -" He cleared his throat dramatically and numbered each offense with his fingers for extra effect while the color drained from Osians face, "- twelve counts of aggravated sexual assault, nine counts of sexual assault with a weapon, illegal drug possession, illegal drug trafficking -"

And the Sergeant snorted. "Heh, looks like your little friend has earned a one-way ticket to at least twenty-five in the Central Detention Center."

A rare smile graced Hunter's features... actually, it was more like a smirk. A really, really, really pleased smirk. He was not pleased with the number of women Rhyden had victimized but pleased that his 'little friend' finally got caught and would in fact be locked up for a long while. 😏

"Might even get life imprisonment." The soldier restricting Osian chimed in smugly.

'Ooh, even better.' 😏😏

The datapad holder whistled, astonished when came across the reward posted on the Tog's head, "And since you turned him in, looks like you'll be getting a big payday - seventeen THOUSAND credits!"

It was unusual for Hunter to openly show what he was feeling inside, but in this instance the shock he experienced was clear as day when his eyes became the size of the planet and his jaw dropped to the ground. Like, to the ground floor fifty stories below. "What?" Was his dumb response.

The reg Sarge snatched the datapad out of his subordinates' hand. "All of the planets chipped in a thousand credits each to have him turned in,'" He happily displayed the reward posted in the Tog's digital file to Hunter, "Read it and weep tears of JOY!"

Hunter had to take a minute to process the image, circuits in overload.

SEVENTEEN THOUSAND CREDITS???!!! 🤑

Mother of moons, he could have fainted.

Now, a responsible, boring reg would probably reveal that he was clone trooper who probably wouldn't be allowed to accept such a substantial reward, stupid dehumanizing rules and all. At least, Hunter didn't know if clones could... and after being told all that would be needed to accept this reward in cold, hard cash was a first/last name combo and maybe proof of identity, he wasn't going to risk this chance at possessing more credits he would never get another opportunity to ever have again.

Instead, the non-reg with an affinity for breaking rules told the trio of gullible shiny's his name was Hunter Lawquane, and he would provide adequate identification when he came by the Detention Center in the morning, because right now he really felt like rejoining the party inside the bar.

They didn't bat an eye.

🥳🤩🙌🏻🤘🏻🎉🎊🍻🥂🍾

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(REGULAR POV)

Hunter returned just in time.

Talla was only on her second shot, and it was clear that'd be all she could handle. Her eyes were unfocused, her words were slurred, her coordination was less than stellar, and she was giggling over every. little. thing.

Wrecker wasn't doing so hot either after the four he'd had on top of his other strong drinks Hunter had lost track of. Six? Seven? Either way, the bottle of hard liquor was swiftly taken from the loopy best friends and shoved into the hands of a random passerby. "And that's the end of that." Hunter declared, the stranger cheering at the half bottle of free whiskey.

Talla's groan of disappointment was so excessive it was embarrassing since it caught the attention from tables nearby. "YUR NO FUN!" She moodily folded her arms and pouted like a child in her seat next to Wrecker.

Crosshair, who was amazingly still coherent despite having had three strong drinks and four shots, was pretty darn proud his scheme to humiliate Talla was working out so splendidly.

Hunter shot him a dirty look as a result, festive feelings momentarily were pushed aside. "Looks like your plan worked." He murmured darkly to the smirking Sniper who merely shrugged. This trainwreck was going to be more entertaining than anything they'd find on the holos back home.

Way too far gone by now, Wrecker still downed his fifth shot. "I WIN!" He proclaimed.

"You keep telling yourself that, Wrecker." Crosshair antagonized back, not even trying, or unable to hide his amusement.

Suddenly gasping dramatically, Wrecker slapped the top of the table excitedly. "Tal, I jus' got the most AMAZIN' idea!"

She mirrored his energy with just as much exaggeration if not more, "What?!" And Hunter was stunned the table didn't shatter upon impact.

The poor table was abused as Wrecker enunciated every, overly dramatic word in his next sentence. "We. Should. ARM WRESTLE!!!"

Unfortunately, the table did suffer a crack from Talla's uncontrollable strength when drunk. "OKAY!!!... What's that?!"

Hunter was quick to shoot down the idea for the umpteenth time tonight, but Wrecker was quicker to yank tipsy Talla from her seat and tug her along to the very much occupied table, but he was swift at fixing that by clearing it of drinks and other party goers by one swipe of his arm and several rude body slams, earning the Bad Batch another four names onto their list of people who despised their existence.

Crosshair was obviously no help in disbanding this craziness and proceeded to take Wrecker's side in the coming battle. Close to drunkenness himself, he was less self-conscious about the regs and other humanoids who noticed their crazy, and he actually stepped behind Wrecker's chair to vigorously massage the burly man's shoulder muscles, offering words of encouragement as his brother flexed his impressively large arms. Wrecker gloated that this was gonna be easy, but secretly he was hoping he'd have a worthy opponent at last. He'd never been and to arm wrestle since that one time on Kashyyyk. 

Tech was indecisive on who to root for, disappointedly going along with this crazy scheme, and pulled out his datapad to do some calculating to see if Wrecker's muscle mass would overpower Talla's recent access to intense training regiments, consisting of daily all-inclusive workouts and healthy sustenance that would adequately fuel her endurance. Unfortunately, he ended up spending the entirety of the match leaning against the railing with eyes glued to his datapad and not participating at all, furiously tapping away as he was unable to get a satisfactory calculation! 

So Hunter was coerced into supporting Talla, not wanting her to lose for a stupid reason like lacking confidence since the drunk woman somehow noticed the daunting spectacle they were causing. Kneeling down by her chair he grasped her shoulder firmly to capture her flighty attention. "Okay Tal, the rules are simple: you have to try and pin Wreck's hand to the table -" He explained the short list of rules and how to grip, and she listened with the little attentiveness as her drunkenness allowed her. He was seventy-one percent sure she got the gist of things, and awkwardly patted her shoulder after in a weak attempt to bolster the spirits of the second clone in the whole galaxy with enhanced strength.

Crosshair was the ref, his relaxed nature allowing him to enjoy the fun like a 'normal' person would. The resting-bitch-face was long gone and replaced with an actual smile. Granted, it was muted, but the fact that accompanying it was eyes were lit up with liveliness instead of gleaming with contempt for everyone and everything's existence, it made up the difference! And made Hunter's job all the more impossible.

In the surrounding area of the squads table, people snickered at the toned but still comparably small woman accepting Wrecker's challenge, grasping hands with the MASSIVE dude.

But all mockery ceased when Crosshair counted down from three and went 'GO!' Because Talla's arm wasn't instantaneously slammed back down onto the table... She was fighting back!

Wrecker was equal parts surprised and happy. He actually had to put forth effort in order to win! Boy, was this great! 😃

Talla's teeth were gritted. She was concentrating reeeaaaalllllyyy hard to keep her unsteadiness in check so her applied force or grip wouldn't slacken.

Both doubled their efforts, muscles bulging. Neither had ever met their human match when it came to enhanced strength, and both wanted to take the title of 'Strongest Human in the Galaxy!'

The first minute came and gone and it was clear they were evenly matched. People started to place wagers when Wrecker seemed to get the upper hand, and Talla's hand started being inched downwards towards the surface of the glowing bar table-

But she got a new burst of raw strength and stood her ground! Straining her arm muscles, Talla pushed Wrecker's hand back up! It was HIS being slowly forced towards the tables surface!

It went back and forth like this for a length of time no one was sure of, definitely in the minutes category, and it didn't seem that either participant was going to let up anytime soon. There were shouts of encouragement for each participant mixed with shouts of dislike for their opponent, and cheers when their chosen side seemed to be winning mixed with loud groans or grumbles when their side seemed to be losing.

Crosshair grew impatient, having accepted a bet of originally ten credits from an orange male Rodian, then it was doubled, tripled, quadrupled, until it was now fifty credits at minute four of the competition. If Wrecker won, Cross would get the small payday, but if Talla won, Crosshair would have to cough up the nonexistent money... Yeah, he was in no position to make sound decisions in this moment, and his opponent obviously had no idea he was a trooper otherwise he would not have offered the fifty-credit challenge to a creditless clone.

So, to ensure he wouldn't lose the stupid bet he made, Crosshair decided to resort to taunting in hopes it would break Talla's concentration. He sauntered the few steps back to the table and leered down at Talla once at her side, knowing her weak points after almost two weeks with his squadron. His tone was laced with mockery and ridicule, high enough to be heard over the music and crowd but low enough that Hunter couldn't make out what he said among the chaos, even with his enhanced hearing. And Crosshair made sure to position himself so that his back was to the Sarge, knowing he could read lips if need be. "It'd be a shame if you lost now," Crosshair jeered, "After shooting your little mouth off about being this undefeatable super soldier."

Talla's face twitched against her will, sharp(ish) concentration faltering. Crosshair's grin turned malevolent, "It would prove your all talk and no action, and -" He winced dramatically and knelt down to Talla's eye level to watch the walls of her self validity crumble into ruins, "All of these people watching would know what a fake you are too." Talla refused to look at him, but the line on her forehead became more prominent, avidly failing at tuning him out. But tilting his head in fake innocence, Crosshair delivered the final sardonic blow, preying on her vanity, "How humiliating that would be for you, the 'exceptional' Agent Talla, don't you think?"

He was surprised her teeth didn't shatter when her already clenched jaw seemed to tighten even more, "Stow it, Crosshair." She managed to ground out, not tearing her gaze away from Wrecker's equally steely one, but there was a meager amount of hostility behind that command. 

And Crosshair obliged her, but not because he was in any way being chivalrous. Those three short sentences had done the dirty trick, and the result was her hand/arm beginning to waver as the strength was figuratively sucked right out of them by those taunts. Talla's even breaths to keep herself grounded were swift to become turbulent, her hand now being pushed to its crushing defeat, inch by inch, with nary a falter in Wrecker's action. Her noises of protest/effort were desperate but did nothing to help her waning resistance. Her eyes, now widened, looked helplessly at her hand already halfway down.

It didn't take a genius to know that Crosshair preyed on her weaknesses and used verbal ridicule to take her down, like he did to the regs who so much as breathed the wrong way around him. Hunter usually let it slide, not caring for regs himself, but this was Talla. Whether Crosshair liked it or not she was now a Bad Batcher, and didn't deserve to be humiliated in front of all these people.

Hunter didn't know if his next actions would actually aid in her victory or not, and Wrecker and Tech would obviously not be any help in defending Talla from their testy brother, the one who did cartwheels on the fine line between being an ass just for fun and just being straight up cold-hearted. But if Talla should lose, it should be a fair defeat, only because in this instance Wrecker just happened to be a little stronger than her.

The Sarge marched to the frantic woman's other side and played the part of the Light side of the Force while Crosshair, fittingly, portrayed the Dark side. Though it gnawed at his insides, Hunter delivered scathing ridicule of his own against Talla's snarky bully... His equally insecure little brother. "You should know, Talla, that Crossy's frightened like a little girl right now." Talla became rapt to attention. Crosshair's smirk morphed into a snarl, his older bro knowing exactly what buttons to push too when the situation called for him to be knocked down a few pegs. "He made a stupid bet before he saw that you could actually beat Wrecker, and decided to sink so low as to resort to childish antics to make sure his idiocy doesn't earn him a good beat down from a thug when he can't pay up -" His final words were declared with a feigned cold-blooded stare at the seething Crosshair, only to give the impression that he did not regret them one bit, "- and the thug most likely wouldn't need any backup from his buddies to take out a stringbean like this guy." Hunter of course knew that Crosshair, like Tech, was completely capable of defending himself, even without the bulk like him or Wrecker. Agility was their friend and equally powerful ally. But he gave Crosshair a taste of his own medicine, the only way he'd back off.

Having Hunter come to Talla's rescue certainly didn't earn her any brownie points with her estranged team member, but the Agent found herself believing what the Sarge said over what the Sniper said, probably because when it came down to it, she valued Hunter's word over Crosshairs.

That is what gave her a fresh burst of energy and determination and strength.

When Crosshair, and Hunter shot up from their crouches, the younger jerked his fist back with the intention of giving the older the shiner of his life-

Only to freeze when a loud THUMP! sounded on the hard surface between them.

A few silent seconds passed when all commotion ceased, engulfing the area as the long-awaited moment of victory happened for... TALLA!!!

IT WAS WRECKER'S HAND PINNED TO THE TABLE!!! 😱

The brothers jaws were slack - someone beat Wrecker at arm wrestling?!?!

The crowds around them erupted in roars of CHEERS and HOLLERS and CRIES and Curses! And other patrons threw their hands up furiously, losing their drinking funds to this apparently 'rigged' event. One rather forward clone shouted, 'MARRY ME!' at frozen Talla.

Hunter would have thrown a rock at him if he... you know... had a rock...

It took a couple of beats before Wrecker processed what had happened. He gaped at just as shocked Talla across the table, then down at his pinned thicker wrist underneath a smaller, fair and perfectly manicured hand, then up at panting Talla again.

Now, the explosives expert had a history of being a sore loser, but when it registered that someone had arm wrestled with him and it had actually been a challenge for him to almost win, that was what came to the forefront of his mind. It didn't matter that hundreds of people just watched a big guy like him lose to a tiny person like her, what mattered was that HE HAD FUN!

So, in the second shocking event in less than fifteen seconds, Wrecker didn't pout or whine like he usually did after losing. Rather, the widest grins in the history of grins split his face and he energetically pumped up a fist. "YEEAAHH!!!" Without warning he bounded around the table and in one swift motion hoisted dumbfounded Talla up onto his shoulder, "GIVE IT UP FOR THE CHAMPION!!!"

Soon, he got everyone chanting her name, and all this hype is what snapped her out of this stupefaction. Soon, she was eating up this attention and joined in on the praise, laughing and dangerously swaying on her already unsteady perch from the overwhelming, booming cheers and alcohol pumping through her body.

Tech... meticulous, thorough, oblivious Tech standing against the railing... he finally looked up from his data pad and held it up triumphantly, "Through extensive research and calculations, I have determined that Talla will come out victorious in this match!" :D

The geniuses only response was a peeved Crosshair snatching the stupid electronic from his hands and chucking it over the railing with a grunt.

And Tech followed his precious two seconds later, diving after it into the crowded dancefloor below.

Hunter always went out with the family with the hopes that this time would be less crazy than the last time... when was he going to learn that it would never be so? Especially now that rambunctious Talla was now added into the equation?

'Force help me.'

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Soon, Talla's next adventure was being showed what to do when on the dance floor. One moment she was on Wrecker's shoulder, next she was plopped back onto the ground - thankfully Hunter caught her before she face-planted - and then she was dragged down the steps by the very man who dropped her. The first floor was filled with people who were dancing to a song that Wrecker got pumped up about. He immediately began grooving to the beat, but Talla remained frozen in her tracks, her brain not computing what exactly she was supposed to do.

"I dunno how to do this, Wreck!" She shouted in lamentation to be heard over the loud music, which no longer bothered her.

"Just loosen up!" He explained with a spirited shove of her shoulder, "Feel the beat! There's no wrong way to dance!"

Talla tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear self-consciously and observed Wrecker jumping around and freestyling, looking to have the time of his life, not having a care in the world. Biting her lip, through slightly blurry eyes Talla also observed the other people around her, how they moved their bodies to the thumping and electrifying beat.

Eventually Talla took Wrecker's suggestion and focused on the song. She'd heard music before in small increments over the last week and found it nice to listen to. It was something pleasing that filled the silence that was at times unwanted, and the words would either say things she couldn't, or just be plain fun to hear.

With much fear of looking stupid, she began by simply bobbing her head to tune of the base that basically shook her to the core, and peered around her to make sure no one was giving her weird glances.

No one seemed to care.

The intense, loud beat caused vibrations throughout her body, and the adrenaline - and alcohol - started speeding through her veins, giving off a euphoric sensation. Soon, she was stepping to the beat as well, then swinging her arms, and when the song reached its chorus she found herself jumping about, cheering and hollering with everyone else.

Wrecker cheered her on. "Yeah! You're gettin' the hang of it!"

Talla laughed too, and soon her and Wrecker were dancing together, jumping around and swinging their arms and hips to the party songs that played. Some men tried to get her to themselves, but Wrecker simply shoved or kicked them on their way. From her extreme dance moves, her fire-colored hair insanely whipped this way and that, and her fit and flare dress whirled about her legs from her vigorously fun exercises. Occasionally Wrecker took her hand and spun her around, and once he even dipped her, to which people whooped and clapped.

Talla had never had so much fun in her entire life! 

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Eventually, Wrecker and Talla stumbled back to their table upstairs and collapsed onto the edges of the booth, breaths sputtered and laughing their heads off from the fun they had! Talla's hair was no longer perfectly styled, and she was now sporting a red face from all the exertion and exhilaration.

"Let's do this every night!" Talla requested loudly.

Wrecker's dirty look was hazed. "Hunter always says no! He's such a BUZZKILL!"

Talla grabbed the buzzkills arm and tugged on it like a child would to her parents. "Oh please, please, please can we, Sarge?"

Hunter firmly shook his head. "Nope."

Talla pouted and leaned closer towards him and set her chin on his shoulder. "Pleeeeaaaaase?" She asked again with comically big, pleading eyes and a slight pout.

The close proximity of their faces stirred up that stupid sensation in his chest and he abruptly stood, which turned out to be a bad choice because it pulled Talla from her seat and she ended up flat on her back on the floor.

And all she could do was say 'Whoops' and giggle.

Hunter sighed, wanting so badly to give Crosshair what for despite the moping Snipers already ruined evening. "Alright, I think it's time to go."

Wrecker groaned too dramatically for Hunter's tired soul, and it earned him a half-hearted glare. "But I'm not finished havin' fun yet!"

"Wrecker, the bartender cut you off three hours ago." Tech flatly informed him, being the only one in the whole squad who closely monitored his alcohol intake as well as the speed he drank it so as to be in full possession of his faculties by the end of the night. He was always needed for mop up duty. After Hunter slid out of the booth, Tech did so along with tipsy Crosshair, and both latched onto Wrecker's arms to heave him the big lug from his seat.

Hunter felt his heart sink when it was made evident he'd have to deal with Talla, and looked apprehensively down at her giggling form. He gave another heavy sigh, something he averaged doing at least two hundred times whenever they meandered beyond the walls of their ship and it didn't involve destroying Seppie property. Hunter crouched down and grabbed her arm, to which she lazily turned her head in his direction and drunkenly grinned up at him like a fool. Tugging a little, "Come on Talla - stand up." He instructed with as much patience a Sergeant over a squad of four maniacs while he himself was one could possess, after drinking a strong beer and a shot of the houses strongest liquor.

It admittedly wasn't much.

Hunter tugged on her limp arm again. "There we go." He managed to get Talla up onto her unsteady feet without too many curses at the will of the Force for the life it had given him, and gripping her elbows he forcefully guided the drunk woman out of the bar.

When they passed the deserted bar counter, Talla waved crazily to the blue twi casually leaning against it for a breather, since the number of people in the bar had decreased at the late/early hour of 3 AM. "See ya later, Neel!" He grinned in amusement and gave a little wave back, making her ecstatic and even more difficult to handle.

It was really fun (note the sarcasm) getting Talla and Wrecker into taxis without them falling over the edge of the sidewalk platform to their deaths. Hunter had to lift her bridal style and set her into a seat himself in their separate one, then assisted sober Tech and not so sober Crosshair with getting Wrecker into their own cab - he ended up flopping face first onto the cab floor and remained there, muffedly laughing his head off.

The three standing Bad Batchers blankly glanced at each other then shrugged, climbing in without another word, leaving happy Wrecker where he was.

Getting out of the cabs wasn't any easier. Tech had to bribe Wrecker with the promise of delicious Iktotch toast if the heaviest of them all succeeded in getting up himself. Thankfully that tactic worked and Wrecker was able to hop out on his own, not knocking any teeth out when he face planted again onto the concrete of their landing pad. From there Wrecker just stumbled up the ramp into the ship with Tech and Crosshair hot at his heels to guide him to his room where he could pass out in peace, on his bed or on the floor it didn't matter because once he was through the threshold he was on his own, his guides just as exhausted.

Hunter was forced to lift Talla from their cab again, and awkwardly shifted her giggling form around in his arms to pay the cab driver, who thought this odd group was more entertaining than anything found on the HoloNet.

The tired man planned on just dumping the drunk woman at the door of her room and leaving Talla to her own devices, but her body dangerously swayed once placed onto her own two feet, and her face twisted in discomfort from an intense nausea wave she had never experienced before. When she clutched her upset stomach, Hunter knew he had a span of like three seconds to get to the refresher unless he wanted a big mess to clean up.

Thank the Force he shoved her down before the toilet in her personal 'fresher just in time. Knelt behind Talla, Hunter rubbed soothing circles on her trembling back as she clutched the edges of the toilet and heaved up all the contents she had put in her stomach tonight, which made him want to throw up too. But Hunter fought it off with every shred of willpower he had left and offered soft reassurances to the best of his ability, glad she could not see his face that would give away his insincerity of being absolutely not okay with any of this. In fact, the only thing that was truth that came out of his mouth was that he wasn't upset with her, specifically.

A couple of miserable groans escaped amongst the retching. "Never drinkin' ever ag -" Talla wasn't able to finish that declaration as another convulsion wracked her body.

And it prompted Hunter's next annoyed and disgusted response of, "Suits me." And, 'You're gonna get it, Crossy.'

When she messily rinsed her mouth out with water, the new fashion expert who also happened to minor in dermatology - Tech - popped his head in before Hunter could flee to his own barrack for much needed sleep. "Be sure to remove her makeup, otherwise she is at risk for developing acne, redness and dullness of the skin, and other various blemishes!"

...

'Why has the force forsaken me?' Hunter lamented. "What do I take it off with?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hunter's blank face showed it was NOT in fact obvious. Tech rolled his eyes and stepped inside the room fully to reveal the shopping bag he had found in the common area, filled to the brim with Talla's new things. Rummaging through them, he produced a small clear bottle with the label he read out loud: "Makeup remover."

Hunter gave a distasteful look at the bottle placed in his hand, "Why can't I use a wet rag or something?"

Tech was utterly abhorred at this innocent statement, just dropped the bag to the ground and marched away before Hunter could ask how the heck he was supposed to use this stuff. There was instructions on the back, but once Hunter opened the bottle and got a whiff of the awful smelling chemicals or whatever the kriff this was, any thankfulness disappeared.

Talla shared this sentiment once he started applying it to her face when she couldn't coordinate her hands do it herself. Sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, Talla's nose wrinkled in disgust at the awful chemical smelling liquid he put on a small cotton round, "That stuff stinks."

Hunter scoffed in contempt, "Tell me 'bout it." He muttered, then told her to close her eyes and he raised the soaked cotton piece to her face.

She obeyed, but jerked her head away. "And it burns!" For a normal person probably wouldn't bother them, but with her enhancements it magnified the sting.

His own fingers were also unfortunate victims, "Yeah, what the hell is this - acid?!" He grimaced down at stinging skin of his fingers and said, "Are Blair and Skylar trying to burn your skin off? Is that the secret for a -" He tried to remember the exact beauty term he had heard a couple of people talk about once, "A healthy glow or whatever it's called?"

The giggle from Talla that absurd statement earned him didn't make Hunter feel any less awkward about saying it, "Yur funny." She slurred, 'Speaking of Blair and Skylar -' Her hand reached up to comb through the 'luscious locks' as Nik called them on the side of his head, and all his thinking and moving and breathing stopped at her touch. "And ya do have great hair." The loopy grin returned, twirling a wavy brown wisp around her pointer finger, drunkenly marveling at the silken tresses, "Soft."

Flustered upon contact, Hunter decided to shut this down right now because he was starting to go blue from lack of oxygen. When Talla shuffled even closer, practically on his lap, and attempted to put in a tiny braid, he didn't care that leaving the paint on her face overnight would ruin it or whatever. He sprang away from the close proximity and flung the cleansing supplies from his hands onto her nightstand. He made quick work with Talla's boots so she'd be somewhat comfortable sleeping before fleeing the scene.

Tech walked by the door again mere milliseconds later and found Talla already conked out on her bed and Hunter well on his way out, muttering a goodnight to his brother before scurrying to his room. If it was a regular door, he would have slammed it shut.

The self-hatred was strong with this one as he again wished things would go back to normal, because being attracted to the one woman he couldn't have and, just his luck, the first one he could sorta kinda maybe probably actually talk to, it was beginning to get torturous.

Chapter Text

(DAY 14 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Being a young adult and having the fun which consists of partying it up in bars was romanticized in holos, displayed as being the cool way you should spend your free time during the best years of your life.

But Talla discovered that there was nothing cool about the morning after a night of binge drinking. And it started when the soft morning rays peeking in burned her retinas after her eyes finally opened late that morning, and it didn't go away no matter how many times she tried blinking it off - that was definitely not cool.

And there was nothing cool about how her head felt like it was being relentlessly pounded against a hard surface even though she was just lying there, completely still. And it was not cool when shakily pushing her upper body off the mattress, a severe case of dizziness hit her on a level she had never experienced before and made her fall back down, groaning in agony. The low hum of the ship that had grown to become a comforting sound of familiar surroundings now only aggravating her painfully throbbing head. The immense fatigue despite just waking up, her throat being dryer than the desert planet of Tatooine... None of this was cool.

When the cup of water sitting on her nightstand was finally processed through her fried circuits for brains, Talla snatched it and downed that refreshing cup much like Wrecker did with his drinks last night. Once finished, the hungover for the first-time clone shifted to be hunched at the edge of her bed and groaned as the slightest movement sent more waves of dizziness, nausea, lightheadedness - by the moons of Gozgo, Talla wished someone would send a blaster bolt through her skull and put her out of her misery!

And guzzling that cup so fast turned out to not do her severe nausea any favors. It was a miracle she even made it to the refresher with her intense vertigo, and before the water made a disgusting reappearance. To put it simply, today was not going to be a good day.

The only good thing about throwing up, and honestly it wasn't even that good of a thing, was that Talla got a chance to look in the mirror when she rinsed her mouth out and thank the Force she did because her face looked like it had suffered a terrible accident! The once separate red and black eyeliner winged to perfection was smudged in a terrifying splotch around each bloodshot eye, and it made them look they had been gouged out. And her lips... Not in the slightest better. And her hair might as well have been a mynock nest.

Boy, was she glad no one saw her like this.

In the common room, Tech and Crosshair were lounging at the dining table and enjoying warm cups of caf, the former perfectly chipper and okay from his moderated drinking and the latter only having mild symptoms of a hangover. But a truly hilarious and pitiful sight trudged in and cured Crosshair of all his mild symptoms, because this was what he had hoped for - hilarious results from getting Talla drunk!

Agent Talla slowly shuffled into the common room with her red comforter draped over her head and wrapped around her aching body. Her eyes were droopy, bloodshot and dead, and a deep scowl was on her face - a product of her suffering. This was worth the humiliation from losing the bet he made last night, and all those mean things Hunter said to spite him. "Well, good morning!" Now chipper Crosshair bid Talla with an amused glint in his eyes. 

Talla winced. It was as if he was yelling through a megaphone disk. "Must you yell?" She grumbled moodily, slowly lowering herself down next to Tech and wrapping the blanket around herself tighter in an attempt for some, any measure of comfort.

Crosshair calmly raised his cup of caf to his lips, "Oh cyar'ika, I'm not yelling." His cheeky smirk into his mug showed complete willingness, "But I could."

Talla lowered her throbbing forehead to rest against the cool table surface, "If you could whisper, make the room stop spinning and turn off all the lights, I'd really appreciate it." She groaned again. "I'm never doin' a shot contest ever again."

Pouring himself another cup of hot caf, Tech happily informed her, "Caffeine helps with the pounding headache -"

Talla's head shot up, she regretted it for about half a second, then snatched the caf pot from Tech's unsuspecting hand and plopped it in front of her on the table. Next Talla shoveled sugar into the pot of dark bitter liquid, paused in contemplation, and just decided to pour all the contents in, tapping the bottom to get every last bit of the crystalline solid that was the first of two additives for caf that made it bearable for her, tossing the empty container haphazardly over her shoulder. Talla repeated this action with the creamer jug, then used the former sugar spoon to stir everything, threw the spoon down and took several gulps, not caring about how the scalding hot liquid burned her all the way down to her stomach - it was nothing compared to the hangover symptoms she was experiencing.

The boy's stared at her in bewilderment.

"But given your reaction to caf, I would recommend painkillers." Tech finished with his hand still suspended in the air. 

Crosshair muttered 'Oh boy' under his breath, watching Talla take gulp after gulp of the caf, and for not the first time since he met Talla was absolutely terrified. The amount of caffeine and sugar she was ingesting was enough to kill a Bantha! Not that he cared of course.

Poor, pitiful hungover Wrecker shuffled into the room next and like Talla had his red comforter draped securely around himself, and he was groaning loudly from his suffering. "Pass the caf." He muttered grumpily, plopping down next to Crosshair and causing the table to shake, clattering the dishes on top.

By now Talla had gulped down the last dregs of the caf and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She wordlessly pushed the empty pot across the table towards him, and drew her feet up onto the seat so she could prop her forehead up against her knees, completely enclosing her body within her comforter. This dark cocoon created not only blocked out any light, but it also muffled a lot of noise so Talla could experience a small amount of relief while waiting for the pot of caf to cure her.

Sadly, she was in for a major disappointment.

Wrecker blinked, picked up and turned the cafpot upside down, and loudly groaned in despair since no one else was willing to make more. Tech just wordlessly handed him the two capsules and cup of water meant for Talla.

Wrecker might have scowled, but it was better than nothing and he chugged them both down. "Where's Hunter?" He wondered, pulling his blanket around himself tighter for comfort like Talla.

"He was already gone when I woke up." Crosshair told him with a shoulder shrug, having no satisfactory answer.

Wrecker blinked in surprise, because after the skyscraper explosion last week, it was a miracle that last night Hunter let them head to the bar without his supervision, and considering him and Talla's severe hangovers, Tech's broken nose from landing on his face after his dive over the second story railing, and a near brawl caused by Crosshair who couldn't pay up the fifty creds he stupidly bet, Wrecker truly thought they'd never be let out of his sight again. "So we're here... all alone... by ourselves?"

"Not really." Tech revealed, then directed everyone's attention (minus Talla) to a small device in the upper corner of the room that had a lense and consistently flashing green light. "Hunter woke me up shortly after dawn and had me boot up the security-cam system we had originally decided not to use, then link the network to his datapad so he could watch the live feed and keep an eye on us while he ran his errand."

Crosshair abruptly straightened in his chair, "You saw him?"

As usual, Tech was unfazed, "Yes."

Rolling his eyes, Crosshair thought this was another one of those 'I thought it was obvious' moments, "Then where did he go, di'kut?"

Tech bristled, "There is no need for name-calling, Crosshair." He chided, "If I knew where he went, I would have said so."

'Debatable.'

"Did he at least give any hints, Techie?"

"Hunter kept the conversation strictly on the security system," Crosshair humphed disappointedly but Tech actually wasn't done, "In fact, the only time the topic changed was when he asked me if I would be able to somehow forge a proper Identification Card for him -" Crosshair's disinterested face morphed into one of terror at this illegal request, but yet again Tech wasn't finished, " - and I of course took that shred of doubt on his part as a challenge to my exceptional mind... and I of course thought of nothing else for the next allotted time frame required to forge the Identification Card -" Crosshair's hands wrapped around his mug twitched, for he fought the urge to strangle his genius but ironically at the same time absolutely CLUELESS brotherz but said dolt was still had the grand finale, "- and by the time I realized what he had asked me to do was, in fact, highly illegal and could cost him what very little he had in life, he and the finished identification card bearing the name 'Hunter Lawquane' had disappeared."

The day was not complete unless one or all of them face-palmed from a clueless Tech moment, and whaddya know it was before noon, so it did not bode well for the rest of the day. Even super sick Talla peeked an eye out from her safety cocoon to give him a half-way glare. Tech's life was spared only because Hunter sauntered into the common area exactly one second before Crosshair launched himself across the table at Mr. Clueless.

There was a spring in Hunter's step that had never before been seen on such a taciturn man and would probably never be seen again, and the fact that he was, dare I say it, peppy - kriff, the man was even whistling a merry tune! - the four soldiers under his command felt their hearts leap into their throats, and when they saw the large duffel bag he was carrying on his back, they each experienced a painful knot in their stomachs. 'Oh no.'

Slowly uncovering her head and clearing her throat, Talla was the only one brave enough to ask, "Um... whatcha got there, Sarge?"

His response was not a verbal one. No, with a dramatic air about it he slid the duffel off of his shoulder, unzipped and literally dumped the contents of the large bag onto the dining table.

Thankfully wasn't a body, only the next worst thing - stolen goods! In this case, a hoard of credits worth thousands no doubt, all in low currency denominations, tripling the physical cred amount poured onto the table in a glittering wave that gave off a wonderful tune of clinks which signaled the Bad Batch were now, somehow, filthy rich.

Like Hunter, every clone on this ship had never seen this much money in their lives, and obviously in no way would ever earn so much at one time with their measly clone allowance, and even after the war would most likely never see such a payday. It made them draw the terrible conclusion that there was only one way their leader, who they last checked was a lowly clone just like them, had acquired such a treasure: he had robbed a bank. There was no other explanation. Why he needed a fake ID to get into that public place they didn't know, and frankly they didn't care about that tiny detail that didn't add up because there were bigger issues here.

"Huh." Crosshair uttered after a few charged silent seconds, eyes almost bugged out from the stash in fear. Yet at the same time, he had to fight the urge to drool over the huge pile of valuable silver and bronze rectangles so close he could actually touch it, feel it. But he didn't because he feared he'd wake up from this sweet dream that also happened to be a terrible nightmare. "It took five years, but he finally cracked." He shared a look of genuine awe with his brothers who were also trying to suppress their apparent lust for money, "We did it, we drove him to insanity." He made a noise of disbelief, "I always dreamed of the day he'd lose it -" All longing was overpowered by ferocity directed at grinning Hunter, oh my force, Hunter was actually grinning😦 "But now, we're going down with him since he's made us the unwitting accomplices!"

"Aw man!" Talla lamented, "I just got out of the Sithspawn Prison from Hell and now I'm gonna get locked up in another?!" Through the haze of her mind, she concocted a stupidly drastic plan that she relayed with dead seriousness to the other three potential victims, "I say we cut our losses and jettison him and the money into wild space, then wipe the location data from the nav-computer. No evidence=no case, no case=no jail."

Crosshair huffed annoyingly, "Never thought I'd ever agree with the high and mighty Agent Talla -" The dirty look thrown at the amused Hunter would have disintegrated him on the spot if it wielded such power, "Thanks a lot, Sarge!" 

Tech finally recovered his voice, "Hunter, I must ask -"

"No No!" Talla rudely interrupted Tech with frantic wave of her hands, "We absolutely do NOT need to ask any more questions, otherwise we'll never survive the lie detectors."

The look she received from he who had to know everything resembled a lost puppy, "... But -"

"No." Talla reiterated desperately.

"But Talla I must know -"

"But Tech no you don't -"

"But Talla, you are forgetting one crucial fact to your disposal plan!" Tech spoke over her, and she quirked an inquisitive brow at him. He raised his signature pointer finger, "There are security cams all over Coruscant, so the Guard are most likely en route to the Havoc Marauder as we speak to arrest Hunter, and since it will be clear that this was a one-man job, we might as well know what happened before Hunter is shipped off to... wherever clones who rob banks are shipped off to, because we will not be informed of his status due to our position as the lowest of the low in the Republic, and the media will distort everything and not be a reliable source."

With a chuckle Hunter decided to put them out of their misery and happily plopped down next to Wrecker. "Alright, you can stop all the melodramatic conspiracy theories - I didn't rob a bank."

'Oh, it's not illegal?' :D "Then how'd ya get all this?!" Wrecker marveled, and now knowing it wasn't robbed from a bank, he was the first to reach out and actually touch the precious metals... Well, they weren't actually made of precious metals, but they were precious in the sense that they made them RICH!

"Follow up question: why did you need a fake ID to get it?" Talla queried nervously.

Hunter shifted his eyes away from hers to fight the creeping blush threatening to embarrass him, "Do you remember anything that happened last night?" On one hand Hunter hoped no, because there were some awkward moments he swore to take to his grave if she didn't remember, but on the flipside, he didn't want to recap everything that had almost happened to her, make her relive it.

Flashes of Rhyden, the glowing orange deathstick, his kindness turned aggressive, her retaliation, it caused Talla to squeeze her eyes shut and rub her temple in discomfort, "Ummm, the last thing I clearly remember is snapping the wrist of that sleemo Rhyden after he tried to -" She didn't want to say it, so a crease appeared on her forehead as she tried concentrating really hard to make sense of some blurry images of what happened next. "You and I talked, then next I think Crosshair gave me a shot of something strong?" She shook her head and gave him a defeated look and shrug. "After that I'm drawing a blank."

Oh that was a huge relief. Hunter immediately felt merry again, "Well, sleemo is the one to thank for this. I turned him into the Coruscant Guard, and turns out there was a reward on his head for -" Pause. 'Maybe be vague? Don't wanna upset her.' He gulped, "Um, various charges -"

"Relating to aggravated sexual assault, I presume?" Tech finished accurately and bluntly. "Most likely including drugging and perhaps a weapon?"

Talla became rigid in fear, and Hunter gave his tactless little brother a tight smile, "Thank you, Tech, for your input. I was trying to be sensitive."

"Why?" Crosshair wondered as Tech surprisingly shrugged the hypocritical offhand comment off, "You've never bothered too before."

Hunter pushed the topic of conversation back to the money, "Trying something new - anyways, the only thing required to accept a reward in cash was a name and proof of identity, and I didn't even have to go to the bank, I just went down to the detention center. The incompetent regs working there didn't even scan the card in, so I wasn't put in the system, so I'm not even on the radar. And their security system was glitching and in the process of being fixed during the ten minutes I was there, so no one will have a recording of my face." He gestured to his torso, more specifically his hooded jacket, "My face was hidden from any other cam from there to here, so as far as anyone is concerned, I just did my duty as a loyal, normal citizen and received a reward because of it."

This was good enough of an explanation for the other three men. They dove into the stash, selfishly pocketing what they each decided was their fair amount, but Talla did something she had never dared to do up until now because it was disrespectful and would possibly get her shipped back to Kamino - she openly disagreed her commanding officers' decisions, in front of the other soldiers under his command, and actually went so far as to reprimand him. 

"That was an incredibly stupid risk, Hunter!" Oh boy, she actually called him by his name too. His eyes sparked indignantly at this challenge, but she couldn't contain herself. "I have no idea what the punishment is for embezzling clones -"

In the midst of scooping, Tech still managed to raise his pointer finger, "If this is indeed embezzling -"

"Either way, this was a decision that could have had drastic consequences!" Talla's eyes wide with worry bore into Hunter's surprised ones, "You could have been thrown in jail or worse, sent back to Nala Se! And do you know what she does to experiments who don't meet her standards?" She didn't allow him a chance to respond, "It's the same reason there aren't disfigured versions of me hobbling around Kamino - all those failed experiments were executed, Hunter. That's what I was trying to tell you in the cave on Silva!" She sighed heavily and felt her first stress migraine coming on, "But now I know about the Bad Batcher pact about not letting any one of our own suffer at the hands of the mistress ever again, so we'd probably blast anyone who tried to arrest you off the face of the planet and then become fugitives of the Republic." Her anxious ramble painted quite a grim tale that seemed to be happening for her even though it really wasn't, "Except I don't know about you but living a life on the run isn't one I want, especially if it means hiding out in enemy territory to avoid former allies who will probably be given orders to shoot us on the spot, so I'll probably be put between a rock and a hard place trying to decide to stay loyal to you and getting shot up full of plasma, or stay loyal to the Republic and live to fight another day!"

Crosshair paused from stacking credits onto the table in front of him to roll his eyes, "But you won't have to, Hunter made sure of that, so don't be a spoil sport." Secretly though, Crosshair was hoping she would push the boundaries, thus causing Hunter to lay into her like on Silva, because that was a show he wanted a front row seat to again.

"No, because he just happens to also be incredibly lucky, which is not a good combo with stupidity!"

If Hunter had a credit for every time one of his soldiers called him out on a stupid decision he made while being emotionally charged, he'd have two credits... which wasn't a lot but it was kind of sad it had happened twice in less than two weeks. And while admittedly Hunter had to count to ten because he hated being called out in front of everyone, he remembered the other promise he made with himself about doing good by Talla, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like she was going to be sent back to Kamino.

And, a small part of him did acknowledge this was something that did fall into the stupid category. "I agree," Hunter said with forced calmness, "This was a rash decision made while under the influence and also fueled by my hate for the long-necks and their pathetic excuse for an allowance."

'No yelling?' Crosshair mentally sighed in disappointment. 'Bummer.' 

"I usually don't risk anything that would tear apart this squad, but nothing happened and nothing is going to happen because like you said - No evidence=no case, no case=no jail." Hunter finished. 

"Works for me!" Whooping and hollering, Wrecker proceeded to throw a handful of credits up in the air and let them fall back down like a nonexistent rain of the best kind. Tech scolded him and got down on his hands and knees to anxiously retrieve every last bit of the valuable precipitation.

"You can't tell me that you won't enjoy spending this money." Crosshair goaded Talla with a push of several hundreds worth across the table to her.

That resolve began to crumble when she laid eyes on gleaming pile of moola mere centimeters away from her hands gripping the edge of the table. 'Man oh man, this is a fine looking illegal temptation. Although, Hunter did say he didn't even really have to use the fake ID... it's not even in the system... hmmm... maybe not so illegal?' Clearing her dry throat, she attempted to give Hunter a no-nonsense look, "Will you please promise to never take such a stupid risk ever again?" She corrected her question, "At least off the battlefield because I've read this squad's file and know what kind of stuff you pull while fighting clankers?"

Well if it meant no more scolding, "I promise."

Whatever shreds of responsibility Talla had, she desperately tried to hold onto while tentatively reaching out to the forbidden fruit, "And can we save some of it? For emergencies? Because I will not blow through..." Her eyes flicked up at him with inquiry, "How much -?"

"Seventeen thousand." He simpered.

Talla's jaw dropped, Wrecker's handful of creds dropped from his hand, Crosshair almost fainted, and Tech actually did black out for two seconds when he rammed his head trying to abruptly shoot up from underneath the table. "Seventeen thousand?!" Everyone shouted, Tech a little later and shakier than the rest.

"For one little rapist?" Crosshair couldn't believe that, and briefly reconsidered the bank robbing theory again.

"He was wanted on seventeen planets."

'Oh, thank the Force.' Those shreds of responsibility were quickly shrinking to threads now, "I do think we should save some of it because of what Blair told me about Nala Se restricting funds once they see my defiance," Talla picked up a nice-looking silver credit worth twenty and grinned mischievously, "But I don't see why we can't each take a well-deserved shopping spree!"

Whatever sicky symptoms those hungover had before, it was nothing compared to the potential exhilaration of getting some of the things they've always wanted. I say potential because right as they were going to speed off to the markets - messed up party clothes, no shoes, untamed hair and all - a happy trio made entered the common area: Talla's new pal Nik and his companions, her Glam Squad.

"What's up - oh my kriff, where did you get all that?!" Nik gawked at the pile of cash. "Did you rob a bank?!" He fearfully gasped.

Skylar grabbed the others hands and forced them to whip around and high tail it out of there, "If we only saw it for half a second, I'm 99% certain we won't even be considered eyewitnesses!"

"Have fun in prison!" Blair called over her shoulder. They stumbled back down the ramp.

Hunter was quick to chase after them, and after it was clarified that the trio weren't going to be forced to fly the getaway ship, they eagerly listened to the grim but happy tale of how the Bad Batch came into possession of this money. Skylar did sidle up to Talla and offered some low comforting words for her new friend who almost didn't have a good experience partying it up for the first time. Nik tried to lighten the mood and steer the conversation away from her flustered self with a hilarious story of his own first and only encounter with deathsticks. The colorfully distorted universe made him think he was in a club when in reality after finishing the smoke he had wandered away from the club he had visited, and somehow ended up in the quiet Museum of Multispecies Sciences, interpretively dancing to imaginary music in the lobby.

When the Clone Agent no longer felt embarrassed or post frightened from the near assault, Skylar nervously asked the question she had been dying to ask since Talla left them yesterday. "Did you... you know -?" Talla's facial features were blank, signaling that she had no idea what Skylar was referring to. "Did you ask him -?" Her head subtlety nodded to Wrecker, who was laughing as Nik showed him the hilarious recorded holo footage of younger him in the museum that the police so thoughtfully gave the tattoo artist as a reminder for how bad drugs are.

"OH!" The color drained from Skylar's face when Talla did not respond with as much subtlety. No, there was none as she excitedly got Wrecker's attention right then and there when she remembered the promise made on her part, "Skylar wants you to call her sometime! She wants to date you!"

You could have heard a pin drop from the stunned silence. Skylar was mortified and redder than a Sith Lord's lightsaber, boisterous Wrecker was stunned into never-before-seen silence, Talla was cluelessly beaming, and the rest were a mixture of the first two plus awkwardness.

Thankfully, Blair came to the rescue. "Well it's about damn time!" Her dry but happy response was, "You've been crushing on him since he came to the shop last year!"

"It's the coward's way to do it, but I approve." Nik teased, pulling his sister into a headlock for a childish noogie, which earned him a shove and a punch. "Ow!"

It finally clicked with Wrecker what she had asked him. She wanted to go out. 'WITH ME?!' "For real?" He asked her with so much bashfulness in his wide, hopeful eyes it made Skylar's heart melt.

Thus, the first Bad Batcher found a sweetheart.

The others would be lying if they said they weren't slightly envious that Wrecker actually managed to find someone special who looked beyond their initial social awkwardness. But they were still happy for him. 🤗

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

The Bad Batch didn't end up buying out the market district with their newfound riches like they had planned, but it still turned out to be a good day! Wrecker cleaned up and then he and Skylar took a walk around this part of the city of Coruscant to get to know each other better, and was ecstatic when finding out Skylar liked trying exotic foods too, so they really spent all their time food-stand hopping in the markets and stuffing their faces. Nik and Blair kicked it back with the rest of the Batchers on their day off. Talla was a little embarrassed at the messy state of the ship, but that was a battle for another time, and they didn't seem to mind the random cups and bottles in random places or other random items strewn about on whatever random surface someone lazily discarded them on.

Wrecker was so excited about his new girlfriend that he didn't want to say goodbye, but with the promise that after their next mission they'd fly straight back to Coruscant double time so he could spend even just five minutes with her, he finally allowed the trio to leave.

He had so much nervous and happy energy that, you know the messy battle for another time mentioned several sentences ago? Well Wrecker decided, all on his own, without anyone's nudge, that he was also embarrassed at how messy the ship was and scrubbed it from top to bottom so his girlfriend (he was so happy to use that word he almost giggled when saying it) could spend time here comfortably. 

Granted, Talla had to go right behind him and straighten up things the right way after he finished, but teaching him how to clean properly was another hurdle for another day because right now the motivation was great. His room though, Talla let him tackle that solo. No way was she risking her health in that toxic wasteland. She could only pray he didn't mix up the cleaning products for some reason, and literally create toxic fumes to go along with the toxic waste.

Around eleven is when Wrecker finally started to wind down and, much to Talla's overstimulated senses dismay, turn on the holovids. 

She had to escape to the cockpit that had actual places to sit as opposed to the uncomfortable cargo hold, her original place of respite due to the fact that it was Hunter who holed himself up in said cockpit. Talla could have gone for a walk, but completely exhausted and still kind of achy and sicky from the hangover all she wanted to do was sleep.

Comforter in tow, to the soundproof chamber she went. Hunter jumped when the door whooshed open, an onslaught of flashing lights and booming noise from the holovids flooding into the room before it was cut off again. "Sorry." Talla sheepishly whispered, his face momentarily showing annoyance and discomfort.

But that usual impassiveness returned, and Hunter forced himself to relax down in his chair again, sliding his eyes shut. 

Talla braved a step closer, "Can I please camp out in here with you?" She timidly asked, "I promise I'll be silent as a Silent Desert on Tython..."

He had no idea where that was, but it sounded promising, so he nodded. About two minutes into the silence though, he sensed her anxiety increasing as opposed to decreasing, her leg frantically bouncing up and down and heart furiously beating. "What?" He finally asked across the aisle.

"Huh?" Her head whipped towards him so fast he was surprised she didn't experience whiplash. 

He reciprocated the head movement lazily, eyes lidded from exhaustion, "What's on your mind?" He inquired in a tired murmur.

"Nothing!" Talla silently winced at the loud pitch of her tone. And at his deadpanned flick of the eyes towards her shaking leg, which she immediately put a stop to with a firm hand. She sighed in defeat. "I'm really sorry about what I said earlier." He tried to hide his amazement but couldn't stop his eyebrows from rising slightly. Even Tech didn't apologize for his own justified outburst. "I didn't mean to be so disrespectful, it's just -" She made a low noise of frustration directed towards herself, "Nala Se says I have this anger management issue, only now I know that difficulty controlling emotions actually comes from the trauma symptoms she ironically gave to me, and sometimes I can't control whatever comes out of my mouth or even what I do with my fists, but thankfully for you that last part only happens with stupid regs -"

"It's fine, Tal." Hunter interrupted, but after a flinch she dared a glance at him and wanted to believe she saw no traces of irritation. "I get it."

"Really?"

"I went through the same thing too, remember?" He reminded her softly, "It takes time, but you'll learn to find ways to cope, alright?" He internally cringed, 'Unless some stunningly beautiful person comes into your life and messes up your zen... or as close as you could get to zen with this batch of deviant clones.' But that didn't seem like a very encouraging thing to add.

"Thank you." He hummed in 'You're welcome', but Talla repeated the phrase. "For going after Rhyden and turning him in, that was really sweet of you."

Hunter had been called lots of things in his short life, good and bad, but had never been called 'sweet.' It was a strange thing for a gruff guy like him to be called, sure, but it also felt kind of nice. He'd done good by Talla again. On the flip side, it also made him upset because a woman thought he was nice, and it was a woman he wasn't sure he could be with. He wasn't as lucky as Talla thought.

"And, I know I said I didn't remember what else happened last night, but I vaguely remember me puking and you helping me out like a champ, so thanks for that too, Sarge."

Talk about two for two. 'Stars, I hope she doesn't remember anything else.' 

Talla shifted uncomfortably in her chair and avoided his gaze with a blush creeping up to her cheeks, which wasn't a good sign, "I didn't do anything else too stupid, did I? While I was drunk?" She wasn't dumb, she knew Crosshair meant to get her drunk, the happiness in his eyes at her suffering today solid proof. Talla now knew he didn't want her to join the shot contest because he had accepted her, he just wanted to make her humiliate herself like after the caf incident.

"No." Hunter said. A little white lie to spare her embarrassment and him even more embarrassment at his reaction to such actions was not bad, right? 

"That's good." Talla breathed in relief.

What happened yesterday - and had been happening ever since that day in the hospital really - was in reality probably not a big deal... but it still affected Hunter this way. And he hated it because he couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't lucky like Wrecker and could just ask the girl he to be his. So Hunter was stuck trying to make this attraction go away. He abruptly changed the subject away from this uncomfortable subject. "By the way, you can call me Hunter, you know." He gave a small shrug. "Everyone else does."

"It wouldn't be respectful." Talla automatically protested.

With a ghost of a grin Hunter shook his head. "You should know by now we're not sticklers about rules."

Talla huffed, leaning back in her chair and looking conflictedly to the side. "You can say that again." But after a couple of seconds of seriously deep thinking, she pondered him again with equal parts hesitance and hopefulness. "So, that makes us friends, right?"

It was a term that put butterflies in his stomach and a knife through his heart. "Yeah." The bright smile he received didn't help either symptom.

From Talla's perspective, three out of the four Bad Batchers were her friends! That was a lot of progress to make in such a short time! While she was starting to think Crosshair would never accept her for whatever reason she couldn't figure out, the fact that she had gotten the leader of the squadron to see her worth was enough to sustain her for now. And since the nice guy routine wasn't doing her any favors and only got her drunk, mocked, manipulated, actually you know what it would just be easier to say HUMILIATED instead of listing all the things Crosshair had done to her-

Talla decided 'No more Mr. Nice Guy!' Time to take a page out of the Bad Batch Book and fight fire with explosions.

There was no more conversation after that, and that gave Talla an opportunity to observe Hunter's positioning once her evil scheming proved to be harder than she thought because she knew nothing about being evil. He looked somewhat comfortable, captains seat facing away from the console, feet propped up on the passenger seat behind it so he could recline back in his seat. Definitely wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep, but hey Talla had been forced to sleep on hard examination tables in a cold, noisy, brightly lit lab some nights, so a couple of somewhat cushioned chairs in a dimly lit, quiet cockpit with a blanket would be fine.

Propping your feet up on an adjacent seat was a simple concept, but the execution itself proved to be impossible. Hunter was a good six inches taller than her, so he had more body length to work with. Talla, in Wrecker's description, she was 5'6" and 'tiny.' The two chairs were separated enough that she had to shimmy further down the seat than Hunter had to until her toes even brushed the seat, but when she shifted further her bum on the edge of the sleek leather seat just slid off and the rest of her torso followed. 

"Oof!" Was the sound she made upon impact with the durasteel floor. "Eh, screw it." She muttered after a few beats, pulling the blanket down after her, proceeding to roll to the left so it'd wrap securely around her body like a burrito. She snuggled into its warmth with a content sigh... in the middle of the aisle... on the cold, hard, dirty ground. 

"There's no way you are going to be comfortable like that." Hunter couldn't help but knowingly remark down at her.

Already slowed and even breathing was his only reply. Hunter didn't want to leave her like that, but what choice did he have? If he woke her up, he'd have to deal with half-asleep Talla again, and that was just as bad as drunk Talla because they both invaded his personal space bubble with their touch of fire.

In the end, he simply shrugged off his soft jacket and rolled it up the best he could, managed to lift her head and place it on the makeshift pillow without so much as her giving a stir or any signs of disturbance - it wasn't much, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Chapter Text

Picture it:

🌫️ Coruscant 🏙️
2️⃣2️⃣ BBY
🔫 Shortly after the outbreak of the Clone Wars

Four young and inexperienced deviant clone commandos fresh off of Kamino, with the physical maturity of twenty years but nowhere near the emotional and mental maturity of that age.

And despite being exceedingly different in appearance then their reg counterparts, one even having silver-toned hair and the other roughly the size of a wookie and even having the strength of one, the squadron still thought themselves looking very plain, very dull, very BLAH...

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

(NIK'S PARLOR - LATE MORNING - DAY 7 SINCE DEPLOYMENT)

Good thing was, during his cadet years Tech had researched the various ways to enhance one's appearance through the HoloNet, and now the self-proclaimed 'Bad Batch' were in a position to make them look more unique, more dangerous-looking and the cherry on top, more rebellious. 😈

Bad part was, they didn't know you had to pay for these sorts of things too, and had spent almost all the money they didn't have on their very first meal that wasn't gross Cafeteria food, or the tasteless ration bars they'd supplied with. 😕 They had an inkling about having to trade credits for things, but they didn't expect the prices they were hit with when entering the five-star reviewed tattoo parlor this side of 79's.

Hunter was going to be the example of strength and set the foundation for him and his brothers getting over their needle phobia, and all he wanted was a black skull tattoo on the left side of his face, the badass symbol of their badass squadron. The tattoo would be odd pick me up of sorts, after that awful experience at the drinking establishment last night, and all dishwashing they had to do that still didn't pay off their exorbitant tab yet, the bartender said.

... But Hunter did not want to pay hundreds of credits for the skull tattoo, especially since he didn't have hundreds of credits.

Misunderstanding their apparent lack of credits at first, the co-owner of this place known as Nik's Parlor, Nik himself stood behind the counter with his arms crossed and said with a no-nonsense tone, "No money = no tattoos, guys." A stark contrast from how he enthusiastically treated the rest of his paying customers.

The Parlor got stragglers all the time who wanted to weasel cheap, sometimes outright FREE tattoos out of him and his co-owners. Or haircuts. Or piercings. Or clothes. It was only to be expected that he'd immediately assume this band of strange misfit soldiers in strange armor, standing in front of the pay counter with discontent looks, were exactly the same those sleemos, 'meekly' saying they didn't have the estimated number of credits to buy their Sergeant a tattoo.

Yet Nik's suspicions were quickly expunged when the difference between those sleemos and these guys is when Tech did hold out the pitiful amount of the measly dozen credits to their name, their mouths were pressed in hard lines instead of mock pouts, and their droopy eyes gleaming with not only embarrassment but shame and confusion and misery and they just looked so LOST. The people who tried to weasel freebees out of them could never be this sincere, a mischievous glint always giving them away. And there were exaggerated stories about a family member suffering a grave illness that's treatment sucked them dry of every spare cred they had, or how they knew the owner or manager and this downright disrespectful treatment would cost them their job, yada yada yada-

With these batch of strange looking soldiers, it was just a few humiliating mumbles amongst themselves.

"I don't understand." By the goggled one to his frowning leader, the subordinates' eyes timidly rounded and looking for guidance.

"They didn't tell us 'bout this." By the burly one directed at the leader too.

"They could have told us you have to trade money for everything out here." The silver-haired one snarked to no one in particular.

The glints in their eyes weren't lively and excited like before, they only showed bitter resentment.

The leaders expression was hard when he said, "We're uh, we're very sorry we wasted your time." Face burning and with dodgy eye contact. He turned and made a brisk gesture for his soldiers to follow him out the Parlor, wanting to leave behind this humiliation ASAP.

"It's all good," Nik ended up saying kindly to their retreating hunched backs, forgoing the matter-of-fact approach as curiosity took over, "Hey, I gotta ask -" He called after them and they paused their exit, "Where you guys from, anyways?"

The three youngest looked apprehensively down at their shortest member, and ever the strong Sergeant it made him nod in an okay before they turned back towards the twi'lek owner who now wore a playful grin to lighten the dreariness, leaning against his hands on the counter. "See, everyone knows you have to pay for a tattoo, and basically everything in life, unless ya'll lived under a rock or something?" He chuckled that last part, not having the slightest clue it was far worse than that.

"We have just been deployed from Kamino." The goggled one recited quietly, exchanging an uneasy glance with the burly one to his right.

'Kamino.' 😮

Nik and his family had obviously heard of the outbreak of the war through the Net, and how this army of CLONES created by this freakishly smart race known as the Kaminoans. These clones were now being spread thin across the galaxy to fight against the new threat to the Republic - the Separatists. He'd seen some pics on the Net too of these brave men with identical faces and identical white armor, so it was only to be expected he'd not been able to realize at first that these UNIDENTICAL guys with BLACK armor were also CLONES.

"We are Experimental Unit: Clone Force 99," The goggled one introduced themselves as when they were invited back to the counter and questioned further, the burly one proudly adding, "But we go by 'The Bad Batch!'" Which was admittedly a very fitting name when it was explained why they looked so different and why they were made to be so different. It was pretty wizard, what their capabilities made them able to do, the goggled one, 'Tech' enthusiastically spewing forth every fact he knew about their genetic differences.

And yet, Nik couldn't get past the fact that these scientists 'made' them this way, literally messed with their very DNA to make them these exceptional soldiers. It seemed a tad invasive, that they didn't get a choice as to who they were and what made them unique.

So, he commed in his sister and his girlfriend to consult on the matter.

His twin sister was very rowdy and very outspoken when Nik started out by telling the best friend duo that these guys didn't have enough credits to buy what they wanted done-

Hands on hips, blue eyes sharp and cold as ice daggers that caused the urge to recoil three steps out of claw reach, Skylar colorfully asserted (threatened), "Listen, buddy boys: no money - NO TATTOOS! That's how it works, that's how it's ALWAYS worked, so if you don't flash some shiny creds for the expensive body art you want, I'm gonna kick your sorry asses so far from here you'll be crappin' on Ryloth -!"

Nik interfered just in time, and told her that he and his brothers weren't a bunch of credit pinching lowlifes trying to scam them. "They're from Kamino - they're the soldiers we saw on the 'Net!"

Skylar eyed them all suspiciously, "They look nothing like those -" They lingered on the long-haired one, and tilted her head while pondering him, "Well... except for him, actually." And just like that, the colorful threat of was replaced with the opposite end of the spectrum - delight! Because the Bad Batch were the first group of clone troopers to visit their humble establishment, and after a mild interrogation it was decided these poor deprived souls and grossly underpaid brave soldiers of the Republic needed that pick me up they desired at a large discount price, though were given lectures on how tattoos were permanent. There was no way they could ever afford to remove the ink if they decided it was not actually a good idea to ink half their face with a skull as their first tattooing experience.

Sergeant 'Hunter' was impressively unwavering as the trio of artists gave him pointed glances.

He was whisked away to a station by Nik and his mirialan girlfriend the former asking for Hunter's bandana to get a closer look at his unique skull design, and complimented him on his art skills. And once Hunter's brown locks were free to his extreme agitation the woman started messing with his wavy hair, offering to give it some layers instead of it being boringly cut straight across, and to also teach him how to maintain it himself, minimizing cost for haircuts later on and the big win was that he'd always be rocking those luscious layers no matter where he was.

Tech stood nearby the workstation where Hunter was being prepped for his first tattooing experience, the brainiac spouting every fact he had acquired about tattoos with or without being asked and also asking questions about things he wasn't sure about without drawing a breath; 'Crosshair' occupied a chair nearby, so tense his back was ramrod straight while he trying to subtly squeeze his hands into fists, trying getting rid of the numb yet tingly feelings while Nik showed off the various needles, the sniper overcome with wooziness and nausea that was masked behind an almost convincing bored expression; Wrecker wandered off, checking out the various viewscreens that displayed totally wicked tattoo designs the shop had done over the couple of years it'd been open.

If there was a contest for curiosity Wrecker would win second prize, hands down. He didn't record everything he saw, but touched - touched the bright viewscreens and art outlines in awe; trinkets and decor resting hanging on the walls; touched the soft and cushy couches and pillows in the waiting area; next came the unoccupied and dangerous looking tools minus the sharp needles. He was about two centimeters away from picking up a bottle of ink THAT GLOWED! :D

"Hey there." Someone voiced behind him.

And like a frightened loth-cat Wrecker jumped with a comical yelp, stumbled sideways and ungracefully landing into the unoccupied reclining chair. On Impact several bolts yanked from the ground and Skylar's lightning quick reflexes saved her from a bolt that flew at her at lightning speed. It impaled one of the viewscreens on the wall behind her.

Thankfully Skylar had a job where she had to dodge punches quite frequently, so no biggie, sparks still flew and not just from the shattered mess of the destroyed screen.

After gaping at the shattered mess for a sec, Skylar had to giggle over her shoulder, "You know, curiosity killed the loth-cat." Which made him feel all sorts of weird things inside.

I could tell you that when Wrecker first really looked at Skylar Tiima, the first thing he noticed was her infectious smile. Or her literally SKY-blue orbs that twinkled more like stars. Or that how she dressed in an exotically patterned leather skirt with a bright red one-sleeved sweater, which proudly displayed her totally awesome glowing tattoos and complimented her body shape gorgeously. Or even the unmistakable confidence she radiated through her manner of determined strides, loud and full voice, even standing with her chin held high and never shrunk back from eye contact.

I mean I COULD say that, but then I'd be lying straight through my keyboard.

The only thing running through Wrecker's mind was - 'Girl.'

'A girl is talking to me.'

'No, a  woman  is talking to me.'

'A very BEAUTIFUL woman... IS TALKING TO ME!!!'

Sky was the first woman Wrecker had ever interacted with besides female Kaminoans, female Kaminoan Doctors, the odd female trainer or two, so basically, Skylar was the first woman who didn't just have orders or instructions to bark at him. He was a bit nervous, no doubt looking like a blithering idiot, gaping up at her intimidating yet captivating form. The metal armrests of the chair groaning in protest as his hands seized, and he was dumbly unable to think of a response to her tease.

Wrecker couldn't remember what exactly the next few minutes of small talk consisted after her original question - 'What's your name?' - he only thought how stupid he must've looked as it took a few prods on her end to knock him out of his stupor, once waving a hand over his face, then snapping her fingers which did the trick.

Next on Wrecker's mind was how self-conscious he felt about the fact he hadn't showered since... resupplying on the new reg base here a couple of days ago? His hair, while very short, still must've looked like a mynocks nest. At least his armor was new and clean, but that didn't do much for his depressingly low self-confidence.

Force, his face wouldn't ease up on the beet red tones even as the minutes passed. And Wrecker had to keep massaging the back of his neck in agonizing nervousness. And he couldn't look at her straight 'cause he feared his eyes would burn from her goddess-like beauty. Or the... butterflies?! And the puke-y feelings?!

Lacking all life experience, Wrecker had no idea that Skylar was unconsciously dropping subtle hints she found him appealing as he did with her. Yes, she was chatting him up when there was over a dozen other people in the shop who could have been much more interesting to talk to, but he immediately assumed Skylar was either insane or just being nice because she felt sorry for him after seeing his family's less than humble lifestyle.

Though, Skylar did end up saying something funny that his sheltered self actually understood, and this loosened Wrecker up quite a bit in the end. And what happens when Wrecker gets comfortable with someone, and overcome with hilarity or excitement or happiness?

Enhanced Muscle Man really thought he'd restrained himself to a mere, little, harmless, playful tap to the shoulder, really not wanting to hurt this nice person. But he'd grossly miscalculated the g-force behind his SHOVE, and Skylar was flung backwards into the ink cart he'd been gawking at earlier.

The parlor echoed with the sound of her pained 'OOF!' and crashing metal and breaking glass and liquid splattering.

Her brother, best friend and his squadmates flinched in their direction, and saw several more bottles of ink fall onto Skylar then the ground, exploding even more ink all over her.

Deafening silence mortified Wrecker. Paralyzed, he watched her slowly process the shock of her crash, blink dumbly, scan the added pops of unwanted color on her clothes and shoes and the exposed flesh on her legs and arms and even her face-

Ever the supportive brother, Crosshair snickered when seeing Wrecker frozen in shock, grimace in denial, then groan 'Aw man' while a running his hands over his red face twisted in regret and self-loathing, his chest tightened in embarrassment.

Only several seconds later for the sound of hearty laughter to reach his matching, red-tinted ears. Wrecker's hands dropped so his astounded expression, consisting of rounded eyes and jaw back on the ground, was clearly seen. Having Skylar busting out laughing over this incident shut Crosshair up real quick.

This is what stuck with Wrecker for the next year, even meeting lots of other women after that, from many different races, circles in life, rank in the army. None could hold a candle to this Skylar Tiima. When he made innocent mistakes like this, instead of going on a rampage or shaking her head with an annoyed frown and belittling words or just plain ignoring him completely, Skylar Tiima merely laughed it off, even though her fancy smancy clothes were ruined and there was a couple of bumps and scrapes from the impact to be treated.

When Sky was able to contain her jolly laughter, next came the wave of a hand in her family's direction to let them know she was okay. She untangled herself from the various tubes and cables before trying to stand with the slippery ink all over the floor and severe case of jelly legs from the fall.

Without thinking Wrecker went to help, reaching out to literally pick her up by her upper arms like she weighed nothing and carefully, this time actually carefully set her back onto the unslippery, undangerous floor to his left.

Without thinking he lifted the fallen cart and turned it right side up again, grabbing a halfway clean rag and muttering some incoherent apologies while trying to wipe away some of the ink on her only sleeve. It just made it spread though, so next he looked up to apologize again only to finally notice her general shock all over again. Wrecker mistakened it for complete appalment at him for having the daring nerve to touch the goddess. He recoiled a step backwards and the rag was just shoved in her direction, and Skylar barely caught it as shamed Wrecker pouted down at his boots, muttering, "- 'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

In reality, Skylar was just not expecting him to be that STRONG. Mighty Zabraks had come into the shop, even once a curious Wookie, so she was no stranger to freakish strength but was not expecting this Human to possess it, even with his freakishly huge muscles, and briefly considered herself lucky there was no broken bones on her end... She nearly fainted when he lifted that cart which no doubt weighed hundreds of pounds.

Contrary to what he believes, she actually found the big lug adorable on first sight. Very expressive, and upbeat, and very adventurous, and the cherry on top not shamefully flirting with her to try weaseling free body art out of her, very refreshing compared to a lot of the unwanted attention she'd gotten over the years while running this shop. He couldn't really look her in the eye at all, but at least they weren't wandering like with all the others. It was... pretty exhilarating for Skylar, that she could make a guy who looked as intimidating as him nothing more than a puddle of nerves.

But seeing him so in awe with anything and everything here in the shop, even their waiting area couch and pillows, Skylar correctly assumed he knew nothing about, well, anything, and felt it would be unfair to say, ask if he wanted a tour of the local sights since he was new in town... To the whole galaxy, really. That was one of the first things she learned about clone troopers - they severely lacked knowledge about anything other than what would benefit them on the battlefield. They knew nothing about life.

If Wrecker possibly had no idea what a date was or how it was supposed to even work, Sky felt it would only agitate him instead of being an enjoyable event if they got along well.

Skylar chose to stay silent for now, and depending on how long this new war lasted, as Wrecker's life experience hopefully developed and if she still felt a little crush as time went on and didn't happen to meet anyone else, maybe the two of them could amount to something? She trusted her instincts, and she had the distinct feeling this wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.

Didn't mean Skylar couldn't merely giggle in good nature again at his antics to ease his discomfort, and when that didn't work her grin turned into a soft smile and tilt of her head when his eyebrows furrowed, maybe thinking she was laughing at him instead of with him, and considering he wasn't laughing-

Situating the rag in her fingers, Skylar chose to close most of the distance between them, and reached up to lovingly brush clean the tip of his nose, having a tiny splatter of the glowing ink.

Slightly widened and bashfully gleaming eyes flicked up to her face to the hand now leaving behind his clean and burning face, then he looked back down to his boots with lingering doubts for a sec, before he dared another peek up at her, where he was rewarded by another encouraging bright smile.

"I tried to warn ya." Skylar teased with a playful wink as she wiped the rag over her own, unnaturally glowing hand.

Thankfully, once it was seen there wasn't going to be a rampage, his brothers had quickly grown bored of the twi'lek and clones' interaction and didn't see the stupid, dopey grin appear on Wrecker's face when she alluded to her 'Curiosity killed the loth-cat' warning phrase.

On the other hand, her twin bro saw the whole thing and when Skylar passed him by on the way to get different clothes, Nik threw her a smirk and waggled his eyebrows at her, earning him a flustered smack and a muttered 'Shut up!'

And so it began.

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

Skylar could have summed it up with one phrase that could be taken good or bad:

'Could've gone a lot worse.' 😆

The intuitive woman figured that dating Wrecker wouldn't mean getting all dressed up and going to a fancy restaurant, over a spendy meal chatting about anything and everything to get to know each other, from their favorite colors to heavy topics such as their opinions on the war or their hopes and dreams for the future.

That sort of atmosphere would've been too much pressure, and frankly she found that date night idea a bit boring and done to death. Not to say she didn't enjoy a nice meal that she didn't have to cook herself, or having heart-to-heart discussions, or dressing up, but after so many relationships of her own having such cliche outings only to crash and burn in the end, she wanted to shake things up a bit. And since Wrecker was more of your local diner or exotic food stand type of guy, he was already the exact opposite of the snooze-fest, typical kind of date she'd so frequently experienced that failure with.

So, when having zero context for dates, Wrecker had excitedly asked if she wanted to go visit this string of awesome exotic food stands located within the Lower Market District, she didn't think twice about her answer. "Hell Yeah!" Sky snatched his hand and was the one to drag him away from their families, "Let's go!"

Wrecker may or may not have gaped at their intertwined hands as she tugged him out of the Marauder with such strength he was not expecting. She was just as eager as he was, though he wondered why someone as awesome as her would care for a guy like him. But Wrecker didn't dwell on it - he was going out with the most AWESOME woman in the universe! THAT was something that deserved his full attention, and he wasn't gonna screw that up with depressing insecurities.

And on the way Sky just let conversation flow naturally. Wrecker asked her a ton of questions about herself specifically, from anything and everything such as her favorite color to her favorite type of food, to her favorite season on her favorite planet, to her favorite animal. "I wanna know everything about ya!" Wrecker claimed, giving Skylar a serious case of butterflies.

Some of the many answers she gave as they rode an aircab to the markets:

Favorite color? "Burgundy red."

Wrecker was ecstatic, considering it was one of the featured colors of his armor!

Favorite food? "Besides nerf casserole, authentic traditional food from my mom and dad's homeworld - I can't pick just one though!" Turns out, they both had visited the one food stand Wrecker was going to take her too because it served and boasted such authentic delicacies, but that was okay because she loved it and he didn't have to worry she wouldn't!

The good-humored man laughed it off. "Half the battle won, am I right?" Secretly it was a dead serious ask because he really had no clue.

Favorite season? "I love the sunshine and I think it's because of my desert planet roots, but look around - we don't really get a lot of it here in this polluted junkyard!" Skylar explained with a little pout to a completely engrossed Wrecker, who even twisted in his cab seat the best he could to show how captivated he was by her every word, probably very unsafe as he partially sat on one knee but neither really cared in that moment as she took this opportunity to spill her one, simple dream. "One day, I wanna go to a nice, warm planet with no pollution, so I can soak up the pure sunshine! I don't care if it's a tropical beach or just summertime on a blasted desert planet with twelve kriffing suns, I just wanna feel the pure sunshine on my skin!"

Wrecker asked the obvious question. "Why haven't ya before?"

"We don't own a starship."

Wrecker gave a few shocked blinks.

"Shocking, I know, considering everyone and their tooka cat seems to own one, but their actually quite expensive when you look into it, not to mention the hanger fees to store it, plus the maintenance fees and the fuel fees - I suppose if we somehow lucked out and got the ship for free it'd be doable, but frankly neither me nor my brother nor my best friend have a good enough poker-face to win one off a smuggler or something at a game of sabacc, like in the holovids."

"Well, what about bookin' a ticket on one of those public transports?" Was Wrecker's next obvious question.

She gave a dissatisfied shrug. "Eh, the thought of having to be on someone else's time crunch just isn't a very appealing alternative for any of us."

It was here Wrecker started plotting to make her dream come true. There were just a few minor hurdles that would need to be overcome: One, finding a good stretch of time where he knew the trip wouldn't be stupidly cut short for a call to duty. Two, making sure he didn't screw up this relationship up before he could even make this happen. Three, getting his family on board with letting him borrow the Marauder for a few days. 'Gotta start makin' 'em trust me to be 'responsible' and all that bantha crap, I guess... Heh, that's gonna be hard.'

Skylar had to snap her fingers in front of Wrecker's face as he had mentally drifted off, not answering her last question, and while she hoped that wouldn't turn out to be a red flag, all would be explained in good time. He did give her his full attention again, asking what her favorite animal was since he didn't know how to answer that kind of depressing revelation.

"I don't have one, I like them all!" Skylar's smile faltered, that not whole truth, "... From a distance - see, I'm not really an animal person." That exuberance Wrecker liked so much returned for her, "But did you know that there's types of animals and bugs that GLOW??"

He gasped excitedly. "Yeah, I have! And plants do too! This one time, we were fightin' clankas on a beach, and when we got a break during the night, the water glowed 'cause of this thing called bia...luma...somethin'...?" He drew a blank. 'Man, I shoulda paid more attention to Tech!' There was some sheepishness but Wrecker maintained his hyped state. "The, the algae GLOWED for some science-y chemical reason that Tech explained to me, and it was kriffin' AWESOME! Like, when the waves came in they seemed to be a sort of magical hologram or something, but it's actually not!" When there was no evidence of being turned off by his lack of book-smarts, only admiration for his vivid descriptions for his travels, confidence came back for Wrecker. "Then, there was this other coast where the teeny, tiny little bug things glowed for a second when you walked on them in the sand -"

"That sounds so wizard!" Skylar couldn't help but squeal.

"I know, it really was!" Wrecker replied with equal energy, unaffected.

So the date started out pretty well!

And then...

Wrecker succeeded at fighting it off at first, on a high from going on his very first date ever, but the taxi ride did aggravate his hangover symptoms that refused to quit making him miserable, completely disregarding how happy he wanted to feel. His adrenaline rush decreased bit by bit and Wrecker fought to stay hyped, but did not contain the huge sigh in relief as his feet made contact with solid ground again, and the world was no longer spinning.

The cab sped off and Skylar fussed, "You okay, Wreck?" When several paces away he hunched over to grasp his knees for a sec, taking in some much-needed deep breaths to quell the nausea threatening to ruin things for everyone.

There was no indication he'd heard Sky so hesitantly, she returned to his side and out of a compassionate impulse laid a hand on his heaving back, to which he flinched back into a straight pose. "Yeah - oh." He breathed, hand snapping up to his woozy head.

Skylar's sunshine dimmed for a sec. She felt bad for assuming he was okay being touched.

'Shouldn't have done that,' Wrecker mentally berated himself, even though the jerk from her foreign touch couldn't be helped. But on the outside he grinned down at her through the pain just so the happy mood wouldn't be spoiled, "Yeah, jus' too many twists and turns and stuff, heh." It earned him one of those rare mellow smiles from the exuberant woman that gave him a severe case of butterflies and feeling like he was having a heart attack, plus oh my force he was getting even dizzier instead of it cooling down.

"We could've done this another time, when you're not sick from getting completely blasted the night before." She made sure he knew.

His throat had become as dry as the desert planet of Tattooine but he managed to reassure her, "It's not as bad as it was before! Just the taxi ride, it made me feel a lil' queasy again." He admitted with bashful dodged eye contact. "I was jus' excited to go out with ya..."

That comment was the sweetest thing ever. But it kinda went downhill from there.

There were moments, LOTS of moments, where Wrecker had to pause and keep himself from losing his lunch, or sit down for a moment because the world started goin' round and round even when he was just standing there.

Later on over a tasty snack of the traditional twi'leki dish - Gruuvan Shaal Kebabs - he had to openly admit felt worse than he looked, hunching over a bit to hold his pounding head again, and his tummy was doing somersaults, not just because his date was so pretty and smart and sweet.

Gesturing with her partially empty skewer, Skylar clarified, "Don't you mean look worse than you feel?" To make sure he was understood properly.

"No, I cleaned up a lot before we left..." He couldn't bring himself to smile when giving a half shrug, "Didn't help much though, I still feel pretty awful."

Very awful.

Not two seconds later, he was running to the nearest trash bin.

So as far as first dates go, it was enjoyable, but not as fantastic as it could have been for him, completely embarrassed at puking his guts out in the middle of the date.

Not everyone made a good first impression, but good thing for Wrecker, they'd known each other for a year already, and he had made a great first impression despite hurling her across the room.

Next time they would just-

"Wait you still wanna go out?" Wrecker asked up in astonishment to his lady flagging down a cab.

Skylar smiled sweetly down at the guy hunched down on the bench. "Once at a restaurant, I was getting up to go use the 'fresher, accidentally tripped the waiter bringing us our food, two big bowls of hot soup spilled all over my date and we ended up spending the rest of the night at the Grand Republic Medical Facility where my mom oversaw his bacta treatment for first degree burns on his crotch." Reaching down two fingers, she manually closed his dropped jaw and as a cab finally pulled up, she tilted her head with an understanding smile, "This could've gone a lot worse, Wrecker." So he took this in a good way, because she finished her interrupted line of planning: "Next time, we'll just make sure you don't get drunk the night before!"

Chapter Text

(DAY 15 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

The comm on the console shrieked to life. Talla shot up from the floor and snapped into a ready fighting position as best she could with the blanket refusing to untangle itself from her body, and it took a few seconds for the haze in her mind and eyes to clear up and see that there were no incoming clankers. It was just an incoming call. She couldn't decide if in this instance, getting a comm at 3 in the morning Coruscant time was a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, she had been peacefully sleeping and that was a very rude awakening. On the other hand, her bed was a cold, hard, dirty durasteel floor. It gave her a crick in her neck, back, legs, basically everything. 

Hunter didn't fare much better when the call came in either, but he made quick work of straightening his bandana and clothing when he saw the signal came from Kamino, Talla doing the same. The female clone decided to stand behind the male one's chair when he answered the comm with faux calmness. Inside, their hearts were pounding in an irregular, anxiety induced beat when Prime Minister Lama Su showed mild signs of irritation when he appeared on the holoprojector, the ominous blue figure lighting up the room. 

"Prime Minister." Hunter greeted with forced respect as he and Talla curtly saluted, then he cleared his throat to get rid of the sleepy rasp. "Is there a problem?"

"You must return to Kamino immediately and aid in our defenses. We have learned of a Separatist plot to invade Tipoca City."

They both tensed. Kamino, or more specifically the Kaminoan labs and the species who ran them, were the very things of their nightmares. But it was still the only home they and all other clones had ever known. 

Talla began firing up the ship at record speed. "We will leave immediately sir." Hunter swore. 

"You will be protecting the Youngling Barracks, making sure that the Separatists do not kill the next generations of clone troopers." Lama Su flatly instructed. "Report there as soon as you arrive." He signed off.

Sergeant mode was activated, and orders were given - Hunter would get the others and Talla was to go wake up Crosshair. A low move to sick on the new guy (girl) perhaps, but Hunter figured someone with enhanced strength like Wrecker and impressive agility like him could fight off Crosshair's fists of fury better than he or anyone else in this squad ever could. Let's just say, Hunter's nose used to be more like all the regs, that was Tech's twelfth pair of goggles, Wrecker has permanent bruising on the right side of his ribcage, and leave it at that.

The man slept like a rock. He could, and did, sleep through a hurricane. You had to, living on stormy Kamino. So pounding on the door wouldn't even make him flinch. You had to shove him very hard twice or five times, then have a split second to dodge the unpredictable attack from the beast being awakened from his peaceful slumber.

Now, Talla could have been considerate, shoved Crosshair and risked her perfectly shaped nose... But the more she thought about it when finishing the power up to the Marauder, the more she wondered: 'Why should I be considerate to a man who purposely got me drunk and made me suffer a severe hangover? Or who humiliated me in front of an entire parlor? And back to the bar, how do I really know I didn't embarrass myself then either? Hunter could have lied to spare my feelings... You know, to be considerate to a jerk like him, that just doesn't seem fair.'

Then another enlightening thought occurred to her: 'Why risk close combat when at a distance a perfectly flung projectile, or even better A LIQUID could finish the job much more safely and with equal efficiency? And the casualties would be a Sniper who deserved to be humiliatingly soaked, not a cute nose that didn't deserve to be broken.'

😏

This was Talla's first documented prank, and it wasn't even much of a prank it was more of a statement, a statement that said: 'I'm fightin' back now!'

It wasn't elaborate by any means. In fact, the only hard part was choosing what vessel to hold the water she was going to fling at Crosshair. 'Hmmmm. A cup or a bowl?' She asked herself, standing in front of the open dish cabinet and tapping her chin thoughtfully.

But then she enthusiastically said to herself: 'Talla! Talla!'

And she responded with a confused: 'What?' 

And her genius self didn't fail to step up to the plate: 'Why settle on such a small dish when you have the strength to easily carry something BIGGER?' 

💪🏻😏

So, in the end Talla chose an empty storage crate, because a large container meant a large amount of water that could soak Crosshair from despicable head to despicable toe, and he'd have to dry out his mattress with much difficulty before using it again, that or switch the soaked mattress out with the top bunk so he could sleep comfortably tonight. Either way, it'd be an inconvenience, and she'd be a-okay with both scenarios.

With a spiteful air Talla strutted into Crosshair's room, holding a crate with roughly twenty gallons worth of water coming from her shower faucet. In one go she flung that huge vat of liquid onto the peaceful Sniper. He sprung to life, bashed his forehead in on the bottom of the metal bunk above him, sputtered out water plus a string of Mando'a curse words she would have to look up later. Her savage good morning was delivered with a dazzling smile of pure righteous mockery. "Rise and shine, cyar'ika! We've got a mission!"

Soaked to the bone, Crosshair's furious heaves made the water on the corners of his mouth bubble a little and, in a way, made him look like he was literally foaming at the mouth in anger. "YOU KRIFFING BI-"

Already out of his room, the door shut behind Talla before she caught the tail end of that furious name-calling. Didn't matter though. She only felt a small twinge of regret in her heart because Crosshair hopefully learned a valuable lesson this fine early morning: 'Don't humiliate Agent Talla ever again.'

    👑
💪🏻😏

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

It took Crosshair a while before he emerged from his drenched room, having to soak up all of the water he could with anything that he found in his room so there wouldn't be rust - clothes, blankets, and stray towels he hadn't thrown in the laundry bin yet. But even after all that effort he was certain that it had seeped into the frame of his bunk where he'd never be able to reach it and there would be rust anyways. And there'd be mold on his mattress and pillow. And every article of fabric he owned now needed to be laundered at the same time, leaving him nothing else to change out of his wet clothing with.

He was livid.

The rest of the batchers were sitting around the dining table eating a hearty early breakfast in preparation for the battle ahead. "What's takin' Crosshair so long?" Wrecker happened to ask just as the Sniper's door opened and he stalked out, seeing red. Wrecker's next question was why he looked wet.

The other's picked up on his aggression. Hunter and Tech immediately became alarmed while Talla was the exact opposite: serene. Normal people would be intimidated being towered over by such an aggressor, but Talla showed no signs of fear when he stomped up to her seat at the edge of the booth, which irked him more. He slammed his fists down on the table in front of her. "If you hadn't just made me 17,000 credits richer I'd jettison you into hyperspace!" He growled down at her.

Talla didn't even flinch, and her response was cool and irritatingly calm, "I'm glad that you at least know something about restraint."

Crosshair's lips drew backwards in a snarl, and Tech shared a fearful glance with stoic Hunter beside him. The Sniper leaned closer to her, "Talla, so help me -"

"This what happens when you purposely get me drunk, so now we're even." She crossed her arms haughtily, the intimidation tactics not frightening her the least bit. 

The rest gathered that Talla had woken Crosshair up by throwing water on him, and they couldn't decide whether she was courageous and awesome... or just plain stupid. 

"We are not even." Crosshair declared darkly, never meaning anything more in his life.

"Oh yes we are!" Talla shot back up at him with as much fire, "Because I've decided I'm not going to keep doing this same dance with you anymore, where you prey on my weaknesses to make me look bad while I'm trying my hardest to be the best soldier and person I can I be. From this moment forward I'm not going to let you manipulate me anymore. Or degrade me. Or get me drunk, high, basically whatever sick thing you think up for your twisted amusement!"

'Oop... shots fired.' 😬 No one Crosshair tormented had ever been brave enough to call him out on his crap, and usually none of the other Batchers cared because it was mostly just regs, and they didn't care about regs. Hunter had anticipated that sooner or later there'd be an argument between the Sniper and Agent because of her developing sharp wit of equal magnitude as her opponent. It was kind of funny, actually. The two were so similar. Which is why Hunter knew this argument would be unavoidable.

Crosshair refused to be scolded by the new girl, "If you don't go in there and clean up your mess before it destroys everything I own -!"

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Hunter would have snickered if it didn't mean getting caught in the Crossfire. So like Wrecker and Tech, the Sergeant just silently watched this shit-show escalate. Talla received a peeved look from Crosshair. "You didn't think I planned for that?" Talla tsked disappointedly, "Give me some credit, Crossy." Flamboyantly, she pulled up a metal electric fan hidden under the table and plopped it in front of him with a CLANK, gesturing to it dramatically, "There. Problem solved."

Crosshair sneered at the tool and straightened to furiously jab a finger at it, "One little fan isn't going to dry up all the water soaked into my bunk!"

"There's four more in storage - go crazy." She retorted flatly.

"And what about my clothes?!"

The next solution to his problems was dramatically pulled up from under the table - a pair of fresh blacks she had snatched from his dresser before turning his room into Kamino's clone. "And we're heading back to the motherland, so the rest of your clothes and blankets and whatever other articles of fabric you own can be laundered." Unexpectedly, a tube of healing bacta gel was pulled up next and placed onto the folded blacks with a genuine look of concern at the red mark smack dab right in the middle of his forehead steadily turning an ugly shade of purple, "And here's something to help that nasty forehead bruise you've got coming your way." Her final move planned was standing to be face to face with him, but she was eight inches shorter than the tall Sniper, so she was actually at collarbone level. Reaching a friendly hand out, she indicated for him to shake it in agreement for the truce she happily offered, "Now how 'bout we take this a learning experience and start anew?"

Talla didn't plan for him to refuse the truce. Talla didn't expect him to have taken much more offense than what was considered a deserved amount for just being rudely awoken with a cold splash wave. Talla had gravely miscalculated his ability to hold a grudge with her. "I am going to make your life a living hell." Crosshair swore, boiling hot rage still pulsing through his veins.

She kept her hand out though, still trying to appear unfazed by his temper tantrum, "You did that already; I said I'm not going to take it anymore; therefore, we've established there's not anything else you can do -"

"There's so much more I can do." Crosshair seethed and her hand dropped, complacency switched to unexpected disbelief, "I'm going to dedicate my life to making you wish you'd never left that little lab - I'm going to make you wish you were never created - you haven't seen anything yet."

Her temper sparked to life, Hunter could see it in her eyes and he knew all hell, as Crosshair put it, was going to break loose because right now, the Sniper was adding hypocrite to his list of undesirable behavioral tendencies. Apparently, he could treat her this way, but she couldn't return the deserved favor. 

"For turning your room into an ocean then giving you the means to save your belongings?" Talla asked rhetorically, "With your attitude problems, who else would be that kind to you Crosshair?"

He found her use of the word 'kind' highly amusing, and not in the good way, "You call this kindness?"

"Yes, it is," She firmly claimed, "Because I'm genuinely sorry for doing this to you, but me being a doormat wasn't moving things along between us."

"'Being a doormat?'" Crosshair's chuckle was laced with ridicule, "Where'd you learn that nifty little phrase? Your holovids?"

'Yes, as a matter of fact I did,' but Talla did not confirm this mocking statement. "You're still as rude and disrespectful since we first met, so I decided I've had enough and decided to fight back."

"A whole two weeks after we've met - your incredible patience could rival a Jedi's." Crosshair dryly replied.

Hunter felt the spike in her blood pressure, so apparently now it was Crosshair's turn to be irritatingly calm and cool while she became a seething cauldron of rage, "Hey, I've been more than gracious with my tolerance, but we need to set some boundaries because deliberately embarrassing me in front of our commanding officers, or whole parlors, and probably all the patrons 79's I just can't remember all what happened -" Her pointer finger shot up, "AND, also, making me sick as a dog, none of that is okay! I don't like or deserve to be made a spectacle of."

"You, of all people, deserve it."

Talla was escalating into distress at an alarming rate. "Why?" She truly wondered with wide, hurt-filled eyes. "In the short two weeks we've known each other, what did I do to hurt you so bad?" The woman repeated his earlier phrasing but unlike him used it to show how sorry she was for whatever she had done to him, "Tell me and I swear I'll dedicate my life to making things right between us! I want to be friends, Crosshair!" She pleaded, "I want to see the Crosshair your brothers keep telling me about! I know he exists because I got a glimpse of him last night when you defended me from that sleemo -"

"It's my job to protect the weak and helpless. You have proven to be nothing else, 'Agent.'"

His words cut deep, and she tried keeping the reigns on her temper, she really did, but he knew exactly what buttons to push to make her unravel and lose control, "Maybe if you helped me like everyone else, I'd learn how not to be a lot faster." She ground out, desperately trying to remain upbuilding in her speech.

"Why should I bother with a mistake like you?"

Her blood ran cold.

He repeated the very exact word that reg used on him back on Kamino, but at her. But Talla's face twisting into dejection from the emotional wounds he was inflicting wasn't enough for Crosshair. His goal was to push her over the edge. He wanted her to be so broken by his words that's she left and never came back. Crosshair wanted her gone , and since he could not do that by his own physical means, verbally driving her away was the only solution... something he frustratingly excelled in. So much so in this instance that his brothers were stunned to silence and couldn't intervene even if they wanted to. "Why are you so shocked by my thinking you're a waste of space?" Crosshair further taunted, taking a slow, intimidating step closer towards her, "Is that not what Nala Se really thinks you are too? Isn't that why she threatened you with execution before you even went out on your first assignment?" He had not witnessed the conversation between them on their Kamino departure a couple weeks ago, but Crosshair had guessed what was said based on all the veiled threats he himself had received during his cadet years. And his deduction had appeared to be correct by her slackening jaw, wounds having salt shoveled into them. He gazed triumphantly down his nose at her. " She  sees it,  I  see it, and I'm positive that soon,  everyone else will too."

Crosshair knew the next words he spoke would be so below the belt, so drastically heartless, and would forever label him as a hypocrite, just like with what went down at the tattoo parlor, but he could not stop himself when in his mind it felt cruelly justified. When he perceived himself as being treated unfairly, he could not control what came out of his mouth. Even if it meant that he sunk to the Kaminoan's level. He just wanted her gone. "And when that happens, you'll end up right where you belong - in a tube, with the rest of those failed experiments, wasting precious space."

On a completely related note to this conversation, Tech had mentally created a behavioral profile for him and all his brothers for fun.

Here is what it was in basic terms -

💀 Hunter 💀
taciturnly spoken
stoically mannered
morally upright
(side note: unhealthy
obsession with hair)

💣 Wrecker 💣
high-spirited
explosively reckless
physically confrontational
(side note: unhealthy obsession
with his tooka doll called Lula)

🎯 Crosshair 🎯
fiercely loyal
aura of superiority
frightfully severe and unyielding
(side note: unhealthy obsession with his Firepuncher rifle)

📱Tech📱
non-confrontational
eagerly communicative
expressive
observant
insightful
(side note: apparently is
also slightly oblivious)
(side note #2: apparently also has
a slight unhealthy obsession with
his datapad)
(side note #3: apparently also
has a slight tendency to be
passive aggressive)
(Side note #4: apparently also slightly sarcastic)

Even Talla had one now, and what he had learned was that she turned out to be a mixture of them all -

🐺 Talla 🐺
fiercely loyal
protective
communicative
dutiful to a point
emotionally intense,
thus making her:
unusually determined
easily confrontational
just as easily conscience-stricken
(side note: obsession unknown)

Of course, this didn't mean they were like this all the time. He and Hunter might be non-confrontational and taciturn-stoic respectively, but they had proven to have the ability to lose their temper if something went wrong that could have been easily prevented. Wrecker had proven to be disciplined by not blowing up Nala Se and the rest of the Kaminoan sithspawn despite everything they had cruelly put them through. And in this instance, Crosshair showed no loyalty to a member of his own squadron and had actually gone beyond severe and unyielding, and crossed into the waters of heartlessness. He knew what she was suffering because of her trauma, what she had to go through to become even halfway mentally and emotionally stable, why she did make all these mistakes.

And yet the hand placed on her quivering shoulder was not intended to offer comfort, and the tone he used was the same fake compassion he used on her at Nik's and 79's while he delivered the final blow that, with any luck, would send her packing. "Don't worry, nothing will really change, Talla, you'll still be doing what you're doing now, you just won't be burdening everyone with the responsibility of cleaning up the messes left in your wake from all of your stupid mistakes."

The universe seemed to stop.

Talla looked on the verge of breaking down. She was repulsed and furious and crushed and, and here is where Crosshair gravely miscalculated his own luck, because she did not just go pack her items and leave them forever. No, in Talla's mind, Crosshair's words and demeanor had made him morph into nightmarish Nala Se, and the Clone Agent had promised herself that if Nala Se ever tried hurting her again, physically verbally or mentally, she'd fight back. But at the same time, he was still also a vile man who had degraded her, so her strike was more tailored towards that offense.

SLAP!

As soon as Talla's palm collided with Crosshair's cheek she instantly regretted it. The impact violently jerked him to the right and his upper body painfully splayed on the top of the hard dining table, chin colliding with the tabletop. Dishes went flying, food and water splattered, Crosshair swore he saw The Light and the impact made him bite a chunk out of his tongue, his mouth flooding with the disgusting metallic taste.

By the time Crosshair had recovered Talla had fled to the cargo hold, too overwhelmed with rage and guilt to stick around and hear him call her every foul name in every language he knew.  After recovering from their harsh flinches and shocks, Wrecker and Tech quickly fled too, scurrying in the opposite direction to check the ETA for Kamino on the nav-computer, leaving the squad's designated mediator with the testier-than-usual Instigator. Hunter cursed himself for letting things get out of hand.

Crosshair winced as he touched his red, stinging cheek that had a hand-shaped swell rising. "Damn harpy's psychotic." Apparently, he had one more name.

Hunter didn't expect for things to escalate to violence. He originally thought once Talla grew a backbone Crosshair would finally accept her, and not be so negative about her. Instead, it had the drastically opposite effect. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever this was, so he scooched down the lounge and settled at the end, to be nearer to Crosshair. "Is she psychotic, or did you purposely drive her to it?" Hunter queried knowingly.

Crosshair dodged that accusation like it was incoming Seppie blaster fire. "You all say she's nice, but then she goes and slaps me."

Shifting the blame onto her didn't work because Hunter wasn't an idiot. "Even nice people have their breaking points."

"It's only been two weeks - that's a major red flag." Crosshair tried.

Sighing in discontent, Hunter raised a hand to rub his temple that was starting to throb. "Alright, what's really bothering you?" He asked tiredly, "Usually the defense for your sociopathic tendencies has validity to it, but Talla isn't a reg or a Kaminoan." Hunter pointed out, hoping Crosshair was sane enough to see the differences because if he wasn't, that would take his concern to the next level, "She is a someone who is trying very hard to be okay after what the long-necks put her through, which you know exactly what that's like, and to my knowledge Talla hasn't purposely done anything to deserve the bitch switch after every little thing she says or does."

"Don't call me that." Crosshair snapped, absolutely despised being referred to by that derogatory name his brothers saved just for him, no matter how accurately it described his behavior sometimes... not that'd he'd ever admit it. 

The hand dropped from Hunter's head, and he gave him a sharp look right back, "Then stop acting like that."

Ohhhh, Crosshair was now unraveling all over again. "Now you're siding with her, over me?"

Fourteen days ago, Hunter wouldn't have thought twice about someone laying a malicious hand on his brothers, and would have let Wrecker pay them back without batting an eye. Maybe it was the infatuation influencing him, but he doubted Wrecker and Tech felt the same, because that'd be very awkward. It was because he had made the mistake once of judging Talla as a person when the destructive behavior displayed was actually out of her control, and not who she was or wanted to be, and the others obviously saw the drastic consequences of that. And they just witnessed it again. "I'm on the side of fixing whatever is going on between you two because I swear Wrecker was close to crying and Tech nearly fainted while you were basically telling Talla to go off herself." He shot Crosshair the rare, 'Older-Brother' look. It was like the 'Sergeant' look, but less authoritative and more inviting for his brothers to open up when something is bothering them. He was trying to perfect it, wanting it to have the same comforting effect that 99's gave them all. Though he still teased to ease the tension, "Tell me what happened, or do I just have to drop you both off on an uninhabited planet and just let you two duel to the death?"

Crosshair raised his throbbing chin to proudly, "I'd happily do so right here on the ship, no inconvenience needed."

"It would be an inconvenience because I don't want to mop up blood." Hunter retorted, then gestured to the seat across from him. 

Crosshair had been keeping the reason he hated Talla his own bitter secret because he figured no one would share in his opinion. They just saw her bright smiles and infectious laughs as genuine and not the facade it had to be. They didn't see the bigger picture. The one that made his blood boil. It was only because he didn't want to put his brothers through terrible confrontations like this again that he did sit down and disclose his theory - no, this certain fact! "She's our replacement, Hunter." Crosshair insinuated with a voice laced in disdain for her.

"What?" That was not what Hunter was expecting to hear. He figured it had to be something bad but also something she was probably not aware was offensive yet. Fault on both sides. He would have never thought up something so... odd like this, and because he couldn't fathom this line of seemingly out there reasoning. 

His brother was dead serious though. "Why would the Kaminoans need to pop out one clone with all the enhancements combined if it wasn't to replace the four original ones each created with separate abilities?"

'Yeah it was a surprise, but the Kaminoans are constantly trying to prove what unparalleled scientists they are,' Hunter immediately thought but didn't speak, not wanting to discourage Crosshair's almost vulnerable state.

"It's like when ship dealers create newer, sleeker, more high-tech models, and the old ones get scrapped for parts."

That next-level concern started to flow in. 'Okay, ummm -'

"She's here to learn all our ways, all our skills, all our successful plans only to make us yesterday's news!" Hunter forced his eyebrows to stay where they were and not raise up to the roof. "She's going to get all the glory while we fade from existence! She's already gotten a Chancellors Service Medal, for kark's sake! The stupid one you got is nowhere near that prestigious!"

In truth, this all sounded like a crazed conspiracy theory with zero sound facts backing it up, but Hunter tried to not shut down Crosshair on the spot. It was a rare occurrence when he opened up about what was going on inside that head of his, even rarer that he lost his cool when things were going wrong around him, and Hunter was not going to shame him for it. He had to be encouraging while being attentive. Sensitive, like he said he was trying out. "I thought we didn't care about medals and ceremonies?" He replied calmly.

"We don't, but it just proves my point, Hunter." Crosshair clarified tersely, eyes ablaze with fury over this theory he firmly believed.

Hunter tried to choose his words very carefully, "Cross, I'm not so sure I can believe her sudden appearance can be that... sinister."

And just like that Crosshair shut right back down. Giving a surly humph, he made to leave the table. "I knew you wouldn't see the bigger picture - you never do."

Hunter knew the lack of action after being physically attacked by someone who was not their brother was unheard of within their squad, so this must have looked like a betrayal in Crosshair's eyes. He thrust a hand out to stop Crosshair from getting up. "I know that you don't like doing this, being so cruel to others." This made the younger man slowly turn back towards the older one, which was hopefully a sign that he was willing to listen to reason, "I know it makes you hate yourself." A whirl of emotions - sadness, guilt, self-hatred - flashed through Crosshairs eyes, but he quickly extinguished the momentary weakness so he wouldn't become a blubbering crybaby, though crossed his arms as if to physically keep himself put together and not fall apart. "But you really don't feel like there's any other way to make sure no one messes with you." Hunter continued, then shot him a thoughtful look, "Want to know how I know all this?"

Crosshair's brow raised, indicating for him to go on because he already knew that they were brothers, and they have never lived a moment apart since he was placed with the group of older cadet children once he was old enough, so there must have been a deeper meaning to his rhetorical question.

"I looked beyond the bad first impression - you punching Wrecker in the stomach when he got excited over his new little brother and came in for a big bear hug - and I decided to find out the reason why you acted the way you did." Now the Sniper's eyes rolled at the angle Hunter was using, but Hunter felt he needed to hear this and recited what he had read in Tech's profile because it explained it better than he ever could, "Your cruel ways aren't because you're a heartless piece of trash you let the rest of the galaxy believe, it's actually a defense mechanism that developed because of how badly the Kaminoans and regs and trainers treated you when we were cadets, because they saw you as the weakest link."

Crosshair had been treated the worst. Out of all three, he lacked the most bulk, so when the other cadets did manage to get a firm hold on him he couldn't break free, and they'd do to him whatever their twisted minds came up with. Several scars littered his body that were from cuts and burns, and he had also suffered some broken bones too. "Very early in life you vowed one day no one would ever hurt you again, so now you try to take down everyone you see as a threat before they even have a chance to hurt you. I didn't assume based on a bad first impression, and I grew to understand why you act out."

"Very moving speech." Crosshair drawled sarcastically.

Hunter let this slide. "You see Talla as a threat to your way of life, so you're trying to drive her away before she has the power to hurt you." He disclosed point blank. "But honestly Crosshair, do you have any solid proof of her being hostile -" Crosshair opened his mouth to speak, but Hunter's pointer finger shot up to silence him, "That doesn't involve you driving her to it?" Crosshair tried to speak again, "Or hostile regs?" Crosshair's mouth snapped shut and he averted his conflicted gaze from the piercing one of the Sergeant, who thought maybe he had gotten through to him. "I know the person you are with me, Tech, and Wrecker is the real Crosshair." An anxious presence appeared behind Crosshair's booth, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other and wringing her shaky hands, "And I think Talla still believes he exists too, which is why she's standing behind you, waiting to apologize despite everything you've put her through. What do you say to that?"

Tech had shown Talla some ways to manage the temper flares, but said it didn't always work and there'd still be times she'd still lash out. That didn't make the instances any easier to deal the consequences of, or ease the guilt that was currently gnawing away at her insides. Talla had never felt so sorry in her whole life. And she had never hoped for something so much - her teammates forgiveness.

Hunter felt a flutter of hope within himself when Crosshair adopted a thoughtful expression on his face. Hunter was right, she was waiting for the green light to come in and beseech Crosshair for his forgiveness, he could sense her pleading gaze burning two holes on the back of his head.

But just as soon as the thoughtfulness was there, it vanished. "Tell her to go kark herself." Crosshair coolly instructed.

Hunters face fell.

As did Talla's.

And after Crosshair made sure to roughly bump her rigid shoulder as he passed her, Talla's face became thunderous. "Oh - oh yeah?" She angrily sputtered to herself, then turned sharply to face-palming Hunter, "Well, TELL THAT PRICKLY STRINGBEAN TO GO JUMP IN A NEST OF GUNDARKS!!!"

If either of them had regular bedroom doors, they would have been slammed shut. Instead, both opted to kick the first thing they came across - Crosshair his metal rifle case and Talla the wall to her refresher of similar material. As a result, Talla made a dent, and Crosshair's slew of pain-filled curses could be heard from the cockpit because he wasn't wearing shoes.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

"Do we have to protect the bratty reg kids?" Crosshair complained while they disembarked the Marauder, having arrived in the designated landing bay on Tipoca.

"There are more important things to be mad about, Cross." Hunter tiredly responded, and the day had not even begun yet. 

"Such as the Seppies invading our home." Tech avouched bluntly.

They feared there'd never be a peaceful day again as long as the two youngest squadmates wanted to gouge each other's eyes out.

"Fine." Crosshair moodily huffed. "Just don't come crying to me when you're the brunt end of the little rats' jokes."

"Gee, I wonder why that happens." Talla jeered next to him, then had an exaggerated 'Aha!' moment, "Oh right - because you're as friendly as blaster-happy Tusken Raider!"

Let's just say Crosshair's helmet didn't need to be off to feel the heat from his glare thrown her way, "And you're as slippery as a greased Dug." 

Before Talla could ask what the heck he meant by that, Hunter sharply turned and jabbed a finger from one to the other, "Both of you: cut the crap. I need you focused on this mission, otherwise we're going to have a repeat of Silva - got it?"

Hanging their helmeted heads, "Sir, yes sir." Were their begrudging mumbles, not liking the chastising, especially with all the regs milling about. 

But if they were going to act like kids, Hunter was going to treat them like kids.

The Prime Minister and his Clone Trooper bodyguards manifested before them, and the Bad Batch all gave him a respectful salute while each silently saying customized choice words for the kriffing long-neck. Talla secretly wanted to heave up her breakfast and broke out in a cold sweat.

"All of the younglings are in the barracks, awaiting your squadron's protection." Lama Su informed the clone Sergeant.

Hunter gave a firm nod, "When is this attack supposed to happen?"

"Sometime before the days end." Was the Prime Minister's vague response, unsure himself.

Hunter could only nod again, then sharply gestured with his head for his squad to follow and they jogged to the barracks, double time.

Halfway there though, the lads ran into their squad's inspiration, walking out of a weapons vault. "Hey, it's 99!" Wrecker exclaimed happily, and the group couldn't help but stop their hurried journey and say hi. 

The short, hunched figure of 99 beamed up at the gentle giant. "Good to see you, Wrecker." He happily accepted the big bear hug given to him, and returned the other's warm smiles they sported after taking off their helmets and circled their beloved caretaker and mentor. Even Crosshair, which shocked Talla to her core. She had never seen him smile unless it was after causing her misery, and it wasn't soft and dare she say it, endearing like this one. The Agent wondered what 99 had to do to earn this callous man's endearment, never hearing stories about the two. Whatever it was, it was obvious she'd have to work a hundred times harder. And the Agent was starting to wonder if she should even bother.

"How's it going, vod?" Hunter asked affectionately, heartily clapping his older brother on the shoulder.

"I wish things were better." 99 sighed regretfully, insinuating the coming Seppie invasion to their home.

"Don't worry, 99!" Wrecker soothed cheerfully, putting his large hand on his other shoulder in comfort. "We'll take down those clankas no problem!"

"Bring lots of explosives, did you?" 99 chuckled, knowing his brothers would be more than capable in defending their home. Though, he worried about them working alongside with the regular troopers - that never ended well. 

"You know me!" Wrecker maniacally laughed, having to refrain from excitedly punching his slightly frail caretaker. 

Finally given an opportunity to acknowledge the woman standing off to the side, 99 peered up at Talla now with a wide smile. "You must be that fancy new Agent everyone's talking about."

Talla decided to remove her helmet and tilted her head after, the corners of her lips turning upwards. "And you must be the inspiration behind the squad's name - I've been dying to meet you!" She enthusiastically stuck out her left hand in greeting. "I'm Special Agent Clone-1, but I go by Talla now." They grasped each other's forearms good-naturedly. "I've heard lots of great things about you, 99!"

Hunter felt a warm fuzzy feeling at seeing Talla meet such an important figure in his life.

"I've heard things about you too Talla," 99 lightheartedly teased, "Though the stories are pretty mixed." He was referring to a particular brother's concussion and broken nose. It was crooked now.

Smile growing smug, Talla she knew the consequences of those actions, but didn't reveal her unease nor let it damper the friendly conversation. "Yeah, I may have pummeled some of your brothers..."

99's shoulders shook from another chuckle, "Some of the boys can get pretty rowdy." He swept a hand in the Bad Batch boy's direction. "These four especially - I trust you can keep them in line for me?"

It was Talla's turn to titter in amusement, the Bad Batch boys shuffling their feet in embarrassment. "I'll do my best, but I think it's more like they'll have to keep me in line."

"Ain't that the truth." Crosshair muttered dryly, which earned him a glare.

Tech held up a pointer finger, diffusing another potential smack down. "I hate to break up a touching reunion, but we must report to our post. We do not know when the Seppies will attack."

"He's right." Hunter concurred, smiling down at 99 again. "We'll catch up after the battle is won."

99 nodded in affirmation. "Knock 'em dead, boys," He looked up at Talla, adding with a wink, "And girls."

Putting on her helmet like the rest of the boys, Talla clapped the maintenance clone on the shoulder in parting. "I look forward to getting to know you, 99!"

An excited gleam in 99's eyes backed up his words, "And I you, Talla."

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

As promised, the barracks were filled with the thousands of adolescent and teenage cadets currently inhabiting Tipoca City, and the Bad Batch scoped out the three hallways leading to the Youngling Barracks. They huddled in front of the large entrance doors.

"What's the plan?" Talla inquired.

"We can't let the clankers cross those doors, so we have to use all we got." Hunter replied.

"Ah yeah!" Wrecker cheered excitedly. "I love hearin' those words!"

"Me and Crosshair will take the left hallway; Wrecker, you take the middle; Talla and Tech, you'll take the right -" His tone became mischievous, "- and use your imagination."

Wrecker's maniacal laugh echoed in the vicinity, and everyone gave their affirmations before broking off and arming up their assigned posts, only to freeze when the doors to the Barracks opened, and out came two teen cadets who had no business being out here in the potential battle zone.

Sergeant mode activated. "What are you doing out here, cadets?" Hunter demanded, shoving up his helmet and furiously pointing his finger to the entrance. "Get back inside and lock the doors!"

The clone to the left stepped forward and said, "We just wanted to see if it was true." But the childlike innocence that sounded fake.

"If what was true?" Hunter asked shrewdly, knowing there'd be a crude punchline coming next.

Just as predicted, the first exchanged an amused grin with the second, "That the freak circus squad was sent here to protect us."

'Here we go again.' The Bad Batch boys mentally rolled their eyes as the teens high-fived each other, like the first had said something so incredibly brilliant, it made them the Gods of Humor.

"'Freak circus squad?'" Tech couldn't help but repeat slowly.

"Yup." The instigator confirmed proudly, puffing out his chest.

Underneath his goggles, Tech stared at him long enough that it made everyone uncomfortable. "That's... not even clever."

'But still hurtful.' Talla thought, feeling a spark of ire in her chest that quickly turned into a raging fire.

"Hey, neither is Jumbo over there." The teen declared, indicating to Wrecker, who's shoulders sagged at the name and insinuation that he was dumb. If he was an actual reg soldier, he'd have his facial features reconstructed, but this was a kid, and Wrecker liked kids! And kids usually liked him! So it just made him sad.

Under her helmet, Talla's eyes turned to icy daggers.

"Wrecker can disarm a bomb in under five seconds with his eyes closed." Tech said matter-of-factly, coming to the aid of his brother. "You need to be a smart when being a demolitions expert."

"They were right about four-eyes, what a mirsh'kyramud." The first clone remarked, busting out the fancy new Mando'a terms their cool new crooked-nosed friend made sure to teach them once he heard the 'freak circus squad' would be returning.

"Not as bad as vaar'ika over there." The second clone snickered, pointing to Hunter, who's eyes darkened but he said nothing.

The teen then turned to Crosshair, who when his brothers were called a 'brain killer' and a 'runt' tore off his helmet so that the teen could see his warning glare. "You better watch your mouth, kid." He warned.

"What are you going to do about it, Mr. Bevik?" The first teen taunted, and Crosshair's lip curled at being called a 'stick.'

Finally breaking her silence, Talla had enough of this child's attitude. "He's right - you better watch your mouth." 

Surprised to hear a woman's voice the teen whipped towards Talla, who whipped off her helmet to reveal her fiery eyes. The Bad Batch boys knew what was coming next, and in a rare moment of compassion felt very concerned for the reg teens.

"Who are you?" The instigator asked with a raised brow.

"Someone who doesn't tolerate harassment." She shot back darkly.

Scoffing, the teens demeanor turned haughty. "We're just joking around."

"Oh, joking around is fine, I love a good joke, but when your 'jokes' put down someone's existence, it's not funny, it's called harassment." She jerked a finger to each of her teammates. "Wrecker can lift whole gunships and disarm a bomb in under five seconds! Tech can make calculations faster than any tactical droid, even if he's half asleep! Hunter can sense electromagnetic frequencies, which makes him more reliable than any holomap!" There was a hesitant pause, but she figured the Sniper should be included too, so he wouldn't have another reason to hate her, and surprise flashed through his eyes as she said proudly, "And Crosshair can hit a precise target ten klicks away, rain or shine." If Crosshair was touched by her including him even after what went down this morning, he didn't show it.

Talla expected cadets to be blindly obedient, just as she had been, but she instead saw firsthand why the Bad Batch boys had disdainfully referred to regular clone troopers as 'regs,' and why they had developed the anti-social tendencies. It was made perfectly clear that the brother code among clone troopers didn't include these four enhanced ones. "Why don't you just stay out of this, cyar'ika." The irritating teen snidely suggested.

Indignation sparked in her eyes. That stupid name that was meant to be a term of affection had proven to just be something that made her want to puke.

Menacingly taking a step up to the teen, Hunter said her name but she ignored him. "You'd best follow orders, cadet." She also suggested, but low and threatening.

Unafraid by the shorter woman the teen reciprocated the action, almost nose to nose now he sized her up too. "Why don't you make me?" He stupidly challenged.

Jaw setting, Talla cursed the fact she was an inch shorter, thus appearing less intimidating than she needed to be. But what she lacked in size compared to the regs, her sharp mind and now tongue made up for, thanks to a particular prickly stringbean. And she even took a page out of Crosshair's book, but to effectively scare the cadet into obedience instead of a breaking point. "Need I remind you of the punishment for clones when they have bouts of disrespect and rebellion, cadet?" Eyes losing their spark, she adopted a superior aura when the teen lost his bite. "Now, I could report you to the Kaminoans -"

Looking like he was going to pee his pants, he recoiled away so he could comically fall to his knees and plead, "No no, please don't!" His brother followed suite, both really not wanting to go to the isolation tanks!

While the Bad Batch had to keep their jaws from dropping, Talla's eyes bored down into the teen for a moment to make him squirm. "But you're lucky I'm a nice person, so I won't report you." He gave a shaky laugh of relief, only to not get off the hook so easily. "If, you apologize to your superiors and mean it."

Glancing fearfully at each other, the two teens scrambled to the boys and tensely saluted to them. "We're sorry, sirs!" They apologized unanimously with a frightened pitch in their already squeaky voices.

The boys couldn't contain their shocked glances at each other, then Hunter just nodded at the pair to let them know that their apology was accepted. "Now get back inside and don't come out until we give the all clear." He ordered.

"Sir, yes sir!" They proceeded to dash back into their assigned quarters and locked the door behind them, leaving the Bad Batch boys to be in awe over smirking Talla.

"What?" The Agent confusedly asked once she became aware of their staring.

"We have been 'harassed' as you call it by the regs ever since we were young cadets, and never once have we been apologized to." Tech informed her with widened eyes.

That was just unfair. "Well, it's about time they started." Talla strongly declared. "Just because you look and act differently than the rest of the clone troopers doesn't mean you should be treated like the dirt under their boots. That doesn't make any sense." Yes, even Crosshair was included. His cruel behavior was understandable now. If he had to live with this all day, everyday, through his formative years all the way to his vulnerable teen ones, she would have become cruel as a defense mechanism too. But just because Talla understood him, doesn't mean she agreed with him. She wasn't going to be a doormat anymore. Perhaps with the regs it was deserved and excusable to a degree, but she had done nothing to deserve to be treated so harshly.

"Why do ya always defend us?" Wrecker had to ask, lifting up his helmet so it was sitting on top of his head like a hat. "I mean, we've only known each other for, like, two weeks, right?" Tech nodded once, telling him he had calculated right.

"Isn't that what friends do? Have each other's backs?" Talla had hoped she'd learned that right.

Wrecker's eyes gleamed at this. It was the first time she had referred to them as friends, and she still said so even after what Crosshair said to her earlier! This earned her a bone crushing side-ways hug with a gleeful laugh. "Aw! I'm glad you're here!"

Crosshair's heart was torn in half by the warmth from her seemingly tender actions and the ice that tried to frantically stop it because he still, despite everything, believed she was there to destroy them.

Talla returned the hug with as much fervor, was about to half-heartedly say she was glad to be here too when the floor violently quaked, the lights in the hallway went from blinding white to menacing red, and alarms started blaring.

The Separatists were here.

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But the battle itself proved to be very anticlimactic, at least where the Bad Batch were located. For hours and hours they heard massive explosions in the distance, and Tech managed to find out that the main targets for the attack were the DNA Chamber and the Barracks, but the Separatist forces were spread so thin that the 501st, which had been stationed on Kamino for the incoming attack, vastly outnumbered the droids for once. Only a few clankers managed to get down here through Hunter and Crosshairs hallway, which they easily snuffed out, not even breaking a sweat.

Still, Talla was alert and keeping a sharp eye on their assigned hallway now. She was kneeled behind a protrusion from the wall while next to her Tech had his knees drawn up, and was intently listening to comm chatter to keep track of the Republic Army and Separatists Forces movements.

Talla heard Wrecker groan over their comm channel, "I thought this would be more fun! I haven't even gotten one clanka!"

"Focus Wrecker." Hunter calmly responded from his hallway, though he himself was feeling the boredom too.

"Focus on what?" Wrecker retorted. "There's nothing to focus on!"

Talla sighed, pressing her own comlink. "I agree with Wrecker, I expected our first mission after my recovery to be more... exciting. Not of the gruesome, losing a limb variety but at least several hundred clankers worth. Even one assassin or a Sith Lord would be worth it!"

"Cut the chatter and focus." Hunter ordered more sternly despite being very underwhelmed. Beside him, reclined Crosshair was fighting back a yawn.

"I'm just saying, this assignment is a complete waste of the squad's capabilities!" Talla finished quickly. "Okay, I'm done complaining now."

Another couple of minutes of tedious silence wore on before Tech heard something interesting and spoke up, pressing the comm button on his helmet. "General Grievous has been intercepted at the Cadet Barracks by Jedi General... Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Tech shockingly looked up at Talla, who whipped her head towards him.

"General Kenobi?!" She couldn't believe that - the Agent's first ever attended funeral was HIS! "You must have heard that wrong."

"I have perfect hearing, so I doubt it." Tech responded flatly, turning back to his transmitting datapad.

Talla's head shook slowly in disbelief, but before this revelation could be fully processed the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she peeked around the wall, seeing thirty B1 droids about fifty feet away. 

She didn't start blasting though, and instead pressed the commlink on her helmet. "Wrecker, I got thirty 'clankas' incoming - how'd you like to do the honors?" She graciously offered.

Wrecker gasped with childlike excitement. "Seriously?! You'd do that for me?!"

"I'll even allow an explosion, my friend." She put forth with a smirk.

Wrecker's crazed laugh never failed to concern her. "I won't need one!"

Her eyebrows snapped together. "What do you mean?" Static. "... Wrecker?" 

Five seconds later Talla received her answer, watching him dash around the corner into her hallway towards the droids. "TIME TO UNLEASH THE WRECKING BALL!" He yelled maniacally.

As expected, the droids began blasting, and she watched him rush the clankers head on - without his blaster, mind you - and merely used his hands to punch and rip droids apart as they screamed in fear while he laughed like a mad man and somehow dodged all of their blasts effortlessly. Mouth agape under her helmet, she glanced at Tech in disbelief only to see him completely unfazed by his crazy brother's antics, typing away nonchalantly on his datapad.

In less than twenty seconds all the droids were down, their metal carnage strewn about in sparky piles. Talla emerged from her hiding spot after he gave the all clear and strutted back down the hallway. "You're-you're insane!" She sputtered. "Taking on droids without a weapon - do you realize that you could have been killed?!"

Wrecker shoved her shoulder with another mad man laugh. "You got that right!" He rolled his head, cracking his stiff neck. "Man, what a rush! Thanks for that!" He then left a bewildered Talla behind and jogged back to his assigned hallway.

'Nala Se really should have mentioned how crazy this squadron really was,' Talla thought, not being so optimistic that she could ever match that crazy, even with her best efforts.

Not too long after that, Tech informed them that General Grievous had retreated and the invasion was over, which of course disappointed everyone. They were so eager to get back in the action after being on vacation for so long. Hunter gave the all clear to the younglings, and then the Bad Batchers hurried their way back to the Maurader, wanting to make a hasty retreat themselves.

"We shoulda been assigned to protect the DNA Chamber, that woulda been so much more fun!" Wrecker claimed, stiffly marching through the post-battle damage like the rest of his moping squadron.

"I wholeheartedly agree." Tech concurred. "This assignment was not a sufficient use of our prowess and valor."

"Tech took the words right outta my mouth... and made 'em big and confusin'." Wrecker teased, getting a half-hearted glare back.

"Quit complaining." Crosshair snapped, swiping off his helmet.

Talla raised a brow challengingly up at the Sniper. "You're telling me that you were okay sitting around doing nothing while the regs got all the action?" 

He opened his mouth... but couldn't think of a good comeback. Settling with a scowl, he pulled out a toothpick from his pouch attached to his belt.

She raised her chin triumphantly. "The reason why we weren't allowed to guard the DNA Chamber or the Embryo Room was probably because of this squad's reputation for liking explosives - you obviously can't use bombs in a such a fragile environment." Tech made a noise of interest at this theory while Crosshair rolled his eyes in annoyance, "That blaster-happy description doesn't exactly showcase your capabilities of being stealthy."

"Look, the important thing is that the kids are safe." Hunter proclaimed, diffusing the argument before it escalated to bloodshed.

Just as they successfully entered the Hangar without any altercations from regs, they were flagged down by Nala Se's Kaminoan assistant, and she focused on Talla. "SAC-1, Mistress Nala Se requests your presence in her office."

For the second time that day, the Clone Agent's blood ran as cold as the icy planet of Hoth.

Chapter Text

Pure fear made her blood run cold. Talla began to sweat bullets. Not the most comfortable combo. The Agent cursed the fact that she took off her helmet, knowing the color must have drained from her face.

Not trusting her voice, Talla gave a curt nod at the assistant, but Hunter surprised everyone by catching her firmly by the elbow. "Want company?" He gruffly asked.

It was less of an offer and more of a promise that he or all of them would happily be her escorts, Talla just had to say the word. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but it was a reference to the pact - if Nala Se mistreated her in any way, they'd blow her off the face of the planet. Wrecker, Tech, and even Crosshair all adopted looks of determination, awaiting her call. Though she didn't take the Sniper's actions to heart, he did say it was his job was to protect the weak and helpless.

Regardless, Talla did want to accept the offer. Hunter proved to be great at keeping her grounded and making her feel safe during these turbulent times since her leaving Kamino, even with all the bumps. Tech and Wrecker were a close second in that area.

But the assistant quickly rejected this. "The Mistress does not require your presence, just SAC-1's."

There was no denying her trauma response when Talla's body suffered tremors at the mere thought of facing the Kaminoan doctor alone, but she forced her voice to be strong when meeting Hunter's steely gaze. "I'll be back ASAP." Hunter still wanted to come along anyways, 'consequences be damned' they swore, but a slight shake of Talla's head saying 'NO' made him reluctantly let her go.

If she wished to face this battle alone, he had to respect that. Didn't mean he wouldn't stop worrying till his friend was safely back home where she belonged, where those kriffing long-necks couldn't hurt her. Truthfully, Hunter didn't know how far he'd go if they dared laid an evil finger on her.

The whole trip to Nala Se's office, SAC-1's stomach was wrought with knots. The assistant wouldn't reveal why the Chief Medical Scientist wanted to see the Clone Agent, so her mind went to the worst-case scenarios. 'AM I IN TROUBLE?! AM I BEING FORCED INTO ANOTHER EXPERIMENT?! AM I BEING DECOMMISSIONED?!' SAC-1 thought that since she received the new cybernetic limb, the danger had passed of suffering repercussions for what happened on Silva, or even in the mess hall here on Kamino. '... Or maybe she found out what happened on Coruscant?' 😦 Suddenly, her new look didn't seem so wizard anymore, and SAC-1 considered slipping into the refresher to shave her head with her vibro, being bald probably being a more acceptable new look than the fiery-colored hair of awesomeness. And whatever fun she had at 79's did not seem worth it anymore, either.

When they walked through the entrance Talla squared her shoulders to give the appearance of confidence, but a shaky breath still escaped her. With sweaty palms she approached the intimidating figure of the Kaminoan Scientist sitting behind her large pristine white desk in a matching suspended chair. Having been typing on her monitor, Nala Se raised her head when the pair walked in, focusing her haunting black eyes on the Clone Agent trying to contain her quivering and fidgeted with her feet, hands, and hair (which didn't make it any less conspicuous).

Slowly standing up, Nala Se dismissed her assistant and soon SAC-1 was alone with the doctor who had inflicted so much emotional, mental, and physical pain. Her erratic heart pounding thrummed throughout her entire body, and bile raised in her throat waiting for her creator to explain the unexpected summoning. Nala Se's disapproval wasn't revealed in her facial features, though that species faces never did, but SAC-1 could sense the frustration radiating off of her and expected the worst, fighting back the urge to hang her head in shame.

"I received a full report of your exploits on Silva, SAC-1, and wanted to congratulate you."

Blink.

Blink.

The Agent was too stunned to even attempt correcting Nala Se by saying her name was now 'Talla.' "Oh." Was all she could dumbly exhale. Being congratulated was far away from the scenarios she had come up with - it didn't even come up in her mind as a potential possibility! When her brain did process the strange words of praise that came from the usually evil Mistress's lips, part of her guard instantly dropped, and she grinned in sweet relief. "Thank you, ma'am!" She said. 'Maybe my luck has taken a turn for the better!'

"The doctors who operated on you provided a detailed report on your successful cybernetic implant procedure, how quickly you recovered, and the guarantee that your performance will not be hindered."

"Yes ma'am, it's true." SAC-1 happily confirmed. "My abilities have not been affected at all by the cybernetics."

Nala Se calmly picked up her datapad and read over the satisfactory report she intended to send to the Prime Minister. "Based on your actions on Silva, it can be concluded that Experimental Unit: Clone Force 99 have indeed trained you well."

SAC-1's nod was enthusiastic, though so far the only thing the Clone Agent admitted she really needed help with were her lack of galaxy knowledge and the trauma symptoms that she caused her. But that seemed like thin ice to tread. "Yes, ma'am, they've been great teachers."

Nala Se typed Lama Su's code into her datapad. "You have met every expectation that we placed on you, and faster than we predicted."

SAC-1's confidence had shot way up. Nala Se had never complimented her. Never. This meant she had proven her worth. That she was not a failed experiment. That she wouldn't end up in a tube with the others. 'Oh, I'm going to have fun shoving this in Crosshair's face!'

"Experimental Unit Clone Force 99 have served their purpose."

This was another sentence not expected. 

Smile faltering, SAC-1 tilted her head uneasily. "... 'Served their purpose,' ma'am?" Those were words held a foreboding element that was all too familiar.

Nala Se did not bother to spare the Clone Agent another glance, making the final touches to the report. "Yes. Since your training is complete, they will now be decommissioned and serve as maintenance clones."

Shock."What?!" Crushed. "Why?! Anger. It took a few sputters before SAC-1 could get out a complete, coherent sentence. "They're the best squadron the Grand Army has to offer!"

"Experimental Unit Clone Force 99 was just that: an experiment." SAC-1's eyes turned as sharp as the vibroblade holstered on her wrist guard, which she itched to use as a jolt of white-hot anger shot through her. "They proved that enhancements could be given to clones, so then came the possibility that clones with all of the enhancements combined could be created and become the ultimate soldier, thus how Project SAC came about." Of course, the Agent knew about Project SAC, but apparently there was a whole despicable sequel to the project that she had not been made aware of! "Experimental Unit Clone Force 99 were allowed to live so that we could observe how enhanced clones responded to our training program."

'Allowed to live?!' Fury tore through SAC-1. 'How sick and cruel can you be?! Whether or not the lives of these clone troopers should continue is NOT YOUR DECISION, SICKO!' Just when she thought the Doctor couldn't get eviler, Talla was once again proven that she had a lot to learn about the universe. The sad part was, she thought she had figured out this one here on Kamino. 'What other evils are there to uncover?! Will I ever be able to forget this nightmare?!' 

"When it was clear that the program was not enough for enhanced clones, we allowed them to go out into the field and perfect their enhancements on their own. Then when the time came, they would teach their ways to our first successful SAC experiment, and afterwards be decommissioned so the Special Agent Clones could take their place as the most successful soldiers in the Grand Army of the Republic."

"Why be decommissioned at all?!" Talla demanded, "Despite being an... experiment -" It made her skin crawl, calling her friends plus Crosshair that. "- they're still phenomenal soldiers who never fail their missions!"

"You have demonstrated the capability to complete missions in less time and with minimal destruction, thus costing the Republic Army less money."

Bopping her head back and forth Talla did ponder this. "Okay, I admit the boys use a lot of explosives, but that doesn't change the fact that they get the job done!" She still defended firmly. It took guts to do what they did, being more capable than a whole battalion of clone troopers. And the thirty-one missions they'd successfully completed proved that! 

Nala Se remained unregretful. "It would be more expensive to fund four reckless clones than it would be to fund one responsible clone."

Talla breathing was quickly turning erratic, temper spiking. "That's not fair!" She shouted. "You can't do this!" Though she knew the exact opposite was true.

Nala Se's face might have been expressionless, but her eyes revealed her own mounting irritation. "I can. You and future Special Agent Clones were created to be the superior soldiers, not Clone Force 99, therefore they will be decommissioned, and you will continue to serve the Grand Army of the Republic single-handedly until the next generation of Special Agent Clones come of age, then you will become a trainer for these enhanced clones."

"And then I'll be decommissioned?" Talla assumed in a growl.

"No. Only the defective clones are decommissioned. You still serve a purpose."

Talla sneered. "The Bad Batch and I are more than objects you can just throw away - they're people! What you're doing is amoral and heartless!"

Nala Se black, intimidating eyes bore into Talla for a moment, but the Clone Agent refused to allow herself to flinch. "Two weeks ago, it did not concern you that you were Kaminoan property. It seems that being with the defective clone commandos have given you a rebellious attitude along with your anger management shortcomings." She observed flatly, eyes flicking to the ghastly hair coloring.

"You call it a rebellious attitude, I call it doing my duty as a soldier: defending the lives of innocents." Talla shot back. "I won't let you do this to the Bad Batch!"

"This is the fate that befalls all defective clones, and you are not in a position to change that." Nala Se declared with finality.

Once again reduced to sputters, cursed tears of weakness misted her widened eyes full of pain and hate and misery, "I - I..." Talla's eyes snapped shut, and she made a guttural noise of rage, sadness and frustration at the unfairness of this all, and stalked out of the office.

Being overwhelmed with emotion, head spinning with all this terrible news and the Bad Batch's terrible fate and the tears blurring her vision, Talla didn't sense or see obstacles in her path when making her furious exit and ended up ramming into someone. Both grunted in pain. The victim had the wind knocked out of him when his back collided with the floor. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed

The man, a reg trooper with a goatee and tattoo of a five on his right temple got his bearings and was able to sit up, shaking his head to shake the wooziness away.

"You alright?" The fallen clones' identical, cleanly shaven brother worriedly asked him from above.

"That was totally all my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going!" Talla apologized, reaching out her hand to help him up.

Through the haze the reg on the floor caught sight of her hand and firmly clasped it. "It's alr -WOAH!" He wasn't expecting her to pull him up as if he weighed no more than a dried leaf, and then he finally got a good look at her. "Wait a minute, you're that new Special Agent that General Skywalker told us about, right? The one with freakish strength and other weird abilities?" Gaping, he felt as if he was talking to a celebrity!

Despite the dreary conversation she just had, Talla found this description of herself amusing.

Meanwhile, his brother scoffed. "Wow, you really have a way with words." The reg Talla body-slammed tossed him a confused look. "They're called enhancements, not weird and freakish abilities."

"I didn't mean anything bad by it-" Looking fretfully at Talla again, he became concerned. "Hey, you alright?"

Feeling the cooled tears staining her red cheeks, Talla was swift to look to the side and wipe them away with a sniffle. "Yeah, I'm fine." She replied tautly.

"You sure?" The unconvinced reg pressed. "You seem upset. Is there anything we can do to help?"

A ghost of a smile came to Talla's face at his immediate kindness to her. The naivety she possessed made her instantly trustworthy of him, because he didn't have the same look in his eyes as the long-necks or some of the other regs. "I don't suppose you can somehow convince the Kaminoans that clones are more than just expendable meat droids?"

The reg's nose scrunched up, and he exchanged a look with his equally disdained brother. "Unfortunately, I don't have that kind of influence."

Talla hummed in disappointment, training her hard eyes on her boots. "Yeah, I figured as much."

"Are the Kaminoans giving you trouble?" The cleanly shaven reg asked, concerned for a fellow mistreated trooper.

"They excel at it." Talla scoffed.

That reg scanned the area for any Kaminoans and leaned closer to her when he found none, the information about to be given highly sensitive. "Well, if they're doing something 'questionable,' you could take it up with General Shaak Ti."

Veering closer, Talla eagerly wondered, "Who's she?"

He was taken aback. "She's the Jedi General who represents the Republic here on Kamino, overseeing the training of troopers and is an advisor to the Prime Minister. But unlike the long necks, she has compassion for us and treats clones like real people."

Talla immediately understood why Nala Se never mentioned her, feeling a spark of hope in her chest. "Does she have the power to stop a squad of exceptional soldiers from being decommissioned just because their ways are a little bit unorthodox?"

The reg shrugged. "She might. Wouldn't hurt to try arranging a meeting with her."

Talla fervently shook her head. "No, I need to see her now, otherwise it'll be too late!"

Abashed, he told her, "You can't just barge in on the General - that would be highly disrespectful!"

Making a noise of frustration Talla averted her gaze, her severe rigidness causing the brothers to look at each other regretfully, feeling bad that they couldn't help her.

Then two men - one whom she never thought she'd see again - joined the two troopers and Agent in the hallway. "Fives, Echo!" Obi-Wan greeted, making the brothers turn around and happily salute. "Congratulations on the promotion to ARC Troopers!" Anakin backed that statement with a smile and a nod.

They beamed with pride. "Thank you, sir." Was there simultaneous response to their superior's praise.

The Jedi Master addressed the dumbfounded Talla next. "Hello Agent Talla! I hear your squadron defended the younglings?"

Talla didn't respond at first, just stared at him in disbelief. Closing her eyes she shook her head. When the hallucination didn't cease, she wobbily turned away and put a palm to her dizzy head. "That deathstick must have affected me more than I thought - I'm seeing dead Jedi!"

Realization dawned on Obi-Wan's features. "Oh. I completely forgot." He sidestepped Fives and put a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. "You're not experiencing... erm, deathstick deliriums, I am very much real." He confirmed, smile apologetic.

It did not bring comfort. "How can that be so? Ahsoka -" She speedily retracted that statement. "Commander Tano told me that you died, and I attended your funeral!"

Anakin huffed darkly. "Long story short, Obi-Wan faked his death to go undercover as a criminal." He explained, betrayal briefly darkening his features.

Talla nodded slowly, this being the second information dump thrown at her today. "I have so many questions, but I really have more pressing matters to attend to."

Fives perked up, an idea coming to him. "Generals, would you be able to take Agent Talla to see General Shaak Ti directly?"

Echo shot Fives a disapproving glare at his boldness while Anakin and Obi-Wan became questionable. "May I ask what requires such impertinence?" Obi-Wan asked shrewdly.

"Sergeant Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair are going to be decommissioned." Talla revealed to the generals with visible anger.

Anakin was flabbergasted, because they were some of the best soldiers he had ever worked with, even with the first failed mission attempt! He suspiciously crossed his arms. "Have they done anything wrong?"

With wide, pleading eyes Talla shook her head. "No, they haven't done anything wrong, but apparently to the Kaminoans they're just science experiments, apparently they were only allowed to live and go out into the field so that they could perfect using their enhancements, then one day teach me their ways and then I'd replace them." She gestured to the reg brothers. "They told me that General Shaak Ti might be able to help prevent that since she has a high position here on Kamino." Obi-Wan and Anakin shared a contemplative look, and she pressed on even though it could get her into more trouble - she had to try! "Please sirs, I don't want these highly skilled men to become nothing more than maintenance clones. You've seen how great they are in battle, how valuable and effective they are. You have to see that this is unfair!"

Anakin reached out to lay a comforting hand on her trembling shoulder. "Calm down, soldier." He admonished, and the enhanced soldier took in a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, something Tech taught her. "I can see how much this means to you, so we'll take you to Master Shaak Ti."

Most of the tension left Talla's figure. "Thank you, General Skywalker."

"But we can't promise she will agree with you." Obi-Wan warned. "I don't think Master Shaak Ti has ever met the Bad Batch, so she'll have nothing to go on but your word, and she doesn't know you either."

Anakin saw the fear flash through Talla's again, and decided to add, "But I'm sure if you and I back Talla's word with our own experiences with the Bad Batch, she'll definitely see to it that their skills aren't wasted." Obi-Wan gave his former padawan a displeased glance, but nonetheless nodded.

Talla was bright and hopeful again. "I'll be forever indebted to you for your help, and your efforts will definitely be appreciated."

Despite the potential disappointment looming over his head, Obi-Wan smiled. "Your loyalty to your squad is to be commended." He then gestured for her and the rest of the group to follow. "Master Shaak Ti is in her office waiting for us, actually. There'll be a small funeral for Maintenance Clone 99, who perished in this attack."

Fives and Echo's faces fell at the memory.

Talla's stomach flip flopped. "What's happened to 99?" She breathlessly asked, and didn't like the answer received.

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By the time Talla reached Shaak Ti's office, her day had gone from bad to worse upon hearing the tale of 99's valiant sacrifice, and with a heavy heart she agreed to represent the Bad Batch at the funeral, for it was taking place as soon as they arrived due to the pressing post-battle duties the Generals had, so there was no time to invite his favored protégés who were all the way across the city.

With solemn faces they entered Shaak Ti's office and Talla was surprised to see Commander Cody, and vice versa. He stepped over to her which prompted a salute, but she watched the generals and newly promoted ARC Troopers walk up to a stunning Togruta that Talla assumed to be Mistress Shaak Ti.

"I didn't know you were stationed on Kamino." Cody remarked to the Agent.

"The Bad Batch was instructed to come back and protect the younglings, sir." She recited.

"Why aren't the boys here?" Cody wondered, sparing a glance at the door to make sure he hadn't missed them. "I know they were close to 99."

She sadly shook her head, "They don't even know he's dead. They went straight back to the ship after the battle while I went into the city, and that's where I ran into the Generals, and they told me about 99's funeral. Unfortunately, this is going to be a quick affair so I wasn't able to invite them to it." She paused, then asked because she honestly did not know what the right thing to do in situations like this and hoped highly experienced Commander Cody would. "I thought about comming to tell them about 99's passing, but I think it'd be better if this was broken to them in person... right?"

Cody gave a firm nod. "These things are better said in person. Good on you."

Everyone's conversations were interrupted by another soldier coming in - a reg Captain in blue painted armor and jaig eyes on his helmet, holding a simple metal urn that undoubtedly contained 99's ashes. Behind him, a flock of young cadets followed with downcast expressions on their faces. The Captain set the urn on Shaak Ti's desk and the attendees gathered around. 

From left to right, the line went Shaak Ti, Obi-Wan, Anakin, the reg Captain who Talla saw had close-shaven blonde hair when he removed his helmet, Cody, Fives, Echo and Talla, with the line of shorter cadets in front of them.

Shaak Ti recounted his valiant sacrifice, and then all the reg troopers decided to solemnly share their favorite memories of 99. Talla felt her chest constrict in regret when she saw that she'd never get to know this incredible man, brother and soldier who touched the hearts of many.

When Echo was finished, everyone looked expectantly at Talla, and she felt her face heat up, causing her to focus her boots. "Well, to be honest I didn't know 99 very well... I only met him today." Biting her lip she tried to think of something nice to say. "But, one thing I've noticed is that he's always talked about with the highest praise by those who really knew him, and he's the very inspiration for my squad's name - Clone Force 99." She raised her head. "From what I've heard from everyone here and my squad, he was one of the bravest, wisest and most selfless soldiers there ever was, and I aspire to be like him... and I wish I got to know him better." Talla meant these words with all her heart, and they seemed to be the right words spoken because she received small smiles from everyone.

After a moment of silence, a Kaminoan walked in and retrieved the urn, thus ending the simple, but nonetheless meaningful funeral.

While the reg troopers gathered in a circle to converse with the cadets, Talla eagerly walked up to Shaak Ti when Anakin gestured her over and made the introductions. "Master, this is Talla, the new Special Agent."

Talla saluted, and Shaak Ti gave a kind nod in acknowledgment. "Your appearance has caused quite a stir in the city." She remarked in a soothingly calm tone that eased tons of Talla's anxious symptoms. "I've also experienced feelings of shock, for despite being here to oversee the development and training of clone soldiers, I was not informed of your existence." Her curious fold of the arms suggested an explanation to be given.

"Very few knew of my existence, ma'am. I'm a..." Talla's nose scrunched up. "'Personal project' of Mistress Nala Se."

Shaak Ti frowned. "Masters Kenobi and Skywalker told me that you had something urgent to discuss with me that could not wait for a proper appointment."

Talla's grim look revealed the severity of the situation. "They were right, ma'am. If something is not done right away, Mistress Nala Se will have four of the best soldiers the Republic Army has to offer be decommissioned and serve as nothing more than maintenance clones!" Her tone rose as she spoke each word, and by the end of her sentence she was in fact shouting in anger, catching the attention of the four reg troopers, Cody specifically.

"Who's being decommissioned?" He repeated darkly, marching up to the group.

Talla gave him her attention now, knowing how he favored the commandos. "Hunter, Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair will be if we don't do something about it."

"What's the reason behind their decommissioning?" He asked, astonished. 

Guilt ate away at Talla so much she couldn't look him in the eye. "Because they were just an experiment that proved enhancements could be given to clones, and were only allowed out into the field to perfect the use of those enhancements so that one day they could teach... well, me, then I and future Clone Agents would replace them as the most successful soldiers in the Grand Army while they got the fate that befalls all defective clones." She finished bitterly.

Cody scowled. "They don't deserve that!"

"I know, sir. That's why I'm here." Talla returned to Shaak Ti, who looked deep in contemplation. "I'm sorry for raising my voice, but this whole thing is wrong  - my friends are being treated poorly because of my existence and I don't think that's fair! There has to be a way for the boys to remain soldiers...  There has to be!"

"Calm down, soldier." Anakin told her again, putting a hand on her shoulder again, and Obi-Wan had to hold back a chuckle - do you know how angry you had to be for Anakin Skywalker to tell you to calm down? Twice?

Shaak Ti was admittedly a little put off with Talla's passion on the subject, but also found it very typical - all troopers were bred to be fiercely loyal, and this Agent appeared to be no different.

Repeating her earlier action Talla took in a deep breath to calm herself, apologizing again. "Mistress Nala Se says I've got anger management issues." Her face was red and blotchy now - 'Can't you maintain control around your commanding officers, di'kut?!' Apparently, Crosshair wasn't needed for her to embarrass herself. Talla did just fine all on her own.

"You are loyal to your squad, so naturally you would be very concerned about them, especially if they are being treated unfairly." Shaak Ti reassured her empathetically.

"More than unfairly." Talla emphasized without fear of being harshly punished. "They are being treated as nothing more than completely expendable science experiments, and they are so much more than that."

Shaak Ti hummed in agreement. "What is your squadrons designation?"

Talla's spirits lifted. "Experimental Unit: Clone Force 99, though we prefer just being called the Bad Batch."

Recognition dawned in Shaak Ti's features. "I've heard of these commandos: Prime Minister Lama Su once told me of their enhancements and unorthodox ways, but completely unblemished mission success record."

"It's true, they've never failed one of their thirty-one missions." Talla reiterated.

With a curled finger Shaak Ti tapped her chin thoughtfully, "The way he spoke about them, I doubt he knew about the scientists' plans for the squadron. I do not think he would be pleased about it." Anxiously hopeful turned to sweet relief as Shaak Ti now had that same spark of steadfastness to make things right. "Did Nala Se say when this decision was going to be implemented?"

"No ma'am, but I assume that it'll be soon, probably after Kamino has recovered from the battle..." Shifting her feet nervously, Talla knew this would be a totally insolent request since she had achieved earning her support in the first place. "But I was hoping that you'd be able to do something about it before that time came."

She was right to fear, Cody becoming incredulous. "Excuse me?" He narrowed his eyes at her boldness to demand something of her superior. "I'd be grateful for the General's help at all!" He reminded her with an edge in his tone.

Talla threw up her hand in defense. "I - I don't mean to come off as ungrateful, it's just that I'd rather the boys didn't hear about what we know."

He squinted mistrustfully at her even more. "Why?"

"Because as clones it's always on the back of our mind that we're Kaminoan property and bred to be completely expendable, despite the kind Jedi influence. Our feelings of humanity are already fragile, and I'd rather not completely shatter the boys' by telling them that despite their amazing abilities thought to make them awesomely different, they were just meant to be replaced like an old pair of boots, and seen as nothing more than little science experiments. It's just -" Her sigh heaved was a disheartened one, "It'd hurt morale." Cody's fading hard expression earned him an astute inspection. "What did you think was the reason why I didn't want to tell them?"

"I thought that you were holding back this information for your own benefit." Cody admitted with a touch of shame. 

Talla got the feeling he wasn't referring to the joy of their souls not being crushed because he looked like he had fumes coming out of his ears. "How would it benefit me, exactly?"

He didn't think it mattered now, so he gave a half-shrug, "I thought you were holding this information back only because you being their replacement, it could affect the good light they hold you in."

It wasn't even a consideration... it didn't even cross her mind... till now. "I didn't even think about that." Talla verbally assured him, "But you're probably right, it would affect the way they see me." A pit in her stomach started to form. This day went from worse to nightmarish.

Being the peacekeeping Jedi she was, Shaak Ti encouraged her to do the noble thing. "While I don't condone keeping secrets, I will go to the Prime Minister now to discuss the matter. As I said before I can guarantee he will not be pleased with his Army's top squadron being decommissioned, and will intervene to put a stop to this unfair treatment." Her eyes bored into Talla as she implored, "But I hope you will do the right thing and not deceive your friends."

The Clone Agent, now scared at the thought of her friends looking at her with deserved contempt, found it extremely hard to meet Shaak Ti's gaze. After a few awkward seconds though, she did and gave a brief nod, saying she would. Inside though, Talla wasn't so sure she'd follow through on this terrible, soul-crushing promise.

Everyone did eventually do their separate ways, the two male Generals having heaps to do post-battle while Shaak Ti had to escort the cadets to their assigned quarters, leaving Talla with Cody, Fives, Echo, and the reg captain.

"You did the right thing," Cody praised to Talla with a rare upturn of his lips. "Those boys are good soldiers, and don't deserve this treatment."

The returned smile was strained. "I'm just thankful I ran into Fives and Echo." The smile became genuine when she turned to the two newly promoted ARC troopers, and they stepped up to the pair at being acknowledged. "I wouldn't have known to go to Mistress Shaak Ti if it wasn't for you two, so thank you."

"Anytime." Fives said with a grin, and Echo... well... echoed this promise.

After a beat of awkward silence and shifty eyes, Talla took a sidestep. "Well, I should get going -"

"Wait!" Echo cried out, and she shot a questionable brow at him. "The four of us were heading to the Mess Hall to celebrate the victory and our promotions." He shrugged. "It's not a very festive place, but that's all we got here on Kamino - care to join us?"

Both Fives and Echo looked eagerly - borderline imploringly - at the woman, and her smile couldn't help but grow at the sheer adorableness of it. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to postpone the inevitable for a little bit longer." She spared a kind glance at the reg captain standing slightly behind Cody, looking at her with hesitant interest. "It might be awkward though since I don't know all your names yet."

Cody immediately fixed that. "Talla, this is Captain Rex of the 501st Battalion." Talla saluted respectively - man, that got tiring to do - and he gave curt nod before they started making their way to the mess hall.

"I have so many questions to ask you." Echo, who was on her left side, told her with such eagerness that it almost made her uneasy. Almost. She had survived Tech, a clone commando with an enhanced mind, so Talla was positive she could handle one little reg of average intelligence.

"Echo, why don't you wait until she's eaten something before you scare her off." Fives, on her other side, teased his twin's egghead tendencies. 

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Talla hadn't realize how many hours had ticked by, Echo and Fives maintaining a firm hold on her full attention with extensive questions on her existence and then afterwards stories about their ten(ish) years to distract themselves from the pain of losing 99, though they did talk about him some. It appeared that 99 didn't just influence the Bad Batches lives, but to any of his brothers who spared a glance at him.

Captain Rex also joined in on the conversation every once in a while, when the Domino Twins took a breather from all their chattering. He came off as gruff at first... but when he saw Talla in a fit of laughter after Fives told a hilarious story from his time as a cadet, a switch inside him flipped and his guard completely came down. From then on, he gazed upon her with soft eyes, and one corner of his lips lifted in a lil' warm smile, which did not escape Commander comrade's notice.

The quintet conversed on many different topics, from training accidents to battle stories. The Domino Twins intently listened to her story of taking on an entire Separatist Base by herself, thought her sword was wizard cool, and if Fives was being honest he felt a tad insecure about his victories compared to her very first one... and perhaps that's why he later embellished the story of how he got his name.

"I fought off five super battle droids, with my bare hands." Fives' chest puffed in proudness over his delusional accomplishment.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Gullible Talla ate that story up, not noticing the sideways glances the rest of the group were giving him. "No wonder they made you ARC Trooper!" Fives smirked arrogantly, flexing his guns.

Echo smirked knowingly. "Go ahead and tell her your CT number, Fives." He deadpanned.

Fives' eyes bugged out and he suddenly found his discarded dinner to be very interesting. "Uhhh... that's not relevant here." He muttered before stuffing his face with ice-cold gruel that barely passed for real food when it was warm.

Eyebrows snapping together, Talla was about to question what Echo meant when her wrist comm beeped. So shifting slightly away from her tablemates she pressed the activation button to answer it, expecting it to be Hunter or Tech. "Havoc 5 here."

"Where are you?!" Her arch nemesis hissed. 

'Great, now I'm gonna lose my dinner.'  Talla's heart sunk. "Crosshair?"

"Answer the question!" He barked.

"Don't have a bantha - I'm in the mess hall." Talla stated with a roll of her eyes, as if it was no big deal. 

"The - the mess hall?" Crosshair repeated, as if he didn't hear that right. "Weren't you supposed to go to the long-necks office?"

"I did."

There were several beats of tense silence, and the hologram didn't need to be activated to see that he was visibly summoning every ounce of patience his crotchety nature allowed him. "Then what are you doing in the mess hall?" He asked slowly. Dangerously.

'Last I checked, I don't have to explain myself to you anymore.' But Talla did anyways. "Well, I met some newly promoted regs, one thing led to another, and I ended up joining in on their celebration with them, Commander Cody and another fellow called Captain Rex."

Again, there was dead silence on the other end, and Talla perked up at thinking he hung up, but his crude voice shattered her hopes and dreams. "So, you're not being... experimented on?"

The wind was knocked out of Talla at the thought just openly exposed to her companions. She squirmed in her seat as the regs gave her pointed looks. "No, I'm not." 

Once again, Crosshair was rendered speechless, but she didn't allow herself to be hopeful again to avoid the disappointment. "... You could have so thoughtfully informed us about this." He eventually growled with more venom than any viper found in the galaxy. 

Whatever mortification Talla felt, it was nothing compared to the disdain she had for Crosshair's attitude problems. "Why?"

"Why?" Crosshair repeated incredulously, "Because everyone (except me) has been wondering where the hell you've been for four hours! Wrecker was ready to come in guns blazing because he thought Doctor Sithspawn were experimenting on you again or killed you, Hunter was going to back him up, and Tech won't stop pacing."

This information replaced her annoyance with guilt. Talla didn't think to call her squad, forgetting the reason they wanted to come along in the first place, and the reason they weren't at the funeral. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking - I didn't mean to cause any trouble I just needed a distraction -"

"Well, next time you make plans outside of what was discussed, tell us so that we don't end up tearing apart the planet looking for you." He so helpfully suggested in the same tone he used at the bar when telling her she should have known all the 'Basic Stranger Danger' knowledge.

"Alright!" Talla yelped. "I get it, it won't happen again! Tell the others I'm fine and I'm heading back now..."

"Try not to get distracted." Crosshair jeered before signing off.

Talla sneered right back at her disconnected comm. "I've been summoned." She stated in derision to her dinner dates, picking up her helmet and standing from her seat and everyone else following.

"He sounded friendly." Fives joked, trying to lighten her promptly snuffed out sunshine.

Talla scoffed. "I made a simple mistake and Crosshair's acting like it's the end of the galaxy."

Captain mode was activated with Rex, and he imparted knowledge on this misinformed soldier. "Actually, it's a bit more serious than that." Her eyebrows snapped together. "Communicating clearly and concisely in a squadron is extremely important during times of conflict." Was his sober take on things, "Not doing so could be the difference between life or death."

"I understand communication is important during a battle, but we defeated the Separatists."

"Communication is still important." Rex told her firmly. "If you don't have a good dynamic off the battlefield, you run the risk of your team falling apart when it really counts."

Talla's nose scrunched. "It seems I still have a lot to learn about being part of a team, then."

"Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it." Fives whole-heartedly believed and put a proud arm around Echo's shoulder. "Our first squadron didn't work well together at first, but we learned and so will you."

Talla gave him and his grinning brother a smile of gratitude. "You know, you and Echo and the Captain are okay, for a bunch of regs."

"Regs?" Echo didn't know if he liked the sound of that.

"Regular clones." Cody spelled out, then gestured for her to continue.

"All the other regs I've met don't treat me and the boys very well, but you guys do." She gave them all a two-finger salute she'd seen Hunter do that evening at the Jedi Temple, before taking a sidestep. "If you're ever in a bind, Commander Cody can tell you how to reach us."

They all nodded in goodbye and after a 'See ya later!' from the Agent she made post haste to the Marauder.

"I don't know if I should be insulted by being called a 'reg'." Echo voiced unsurely, he and Fives deciding to leave as well.

"I think she meant it as a compliment." Fives assured him.

When they were out of earshot, Cody gave Rex a sideways smirk, seeing the Captain's moony eyes focused on Talla's retreating figure. "Some girl, huh?" He commented knowingly.

"She sure is." Rex unconsciously agreed, very much in a dreamy tone, then he blinked back to attention and sent Cody an anxious glance, clearing his dry throat. "I mean, from the stories I've heard she seems to be like a good soldier." He stated in a voice deeper than his usual tone in an attempt to seem normal and completely unaffected by meeting Special Agent Talla.

Cody's chuckled because Rex was a great leader but a terrible liar. "I should warn you that Talla's a feisty one, and a bit eccentric -" He patted Rex's shoulder good-naturedly. "Good luck with that, brother."

Gaping, Rex was flustered at this completely preposterous assumption! "Wh-what do you mean? I have no intentions -" Cody sent him another smirk over his shoulder. "Commander?" Rex chased after him. "Cody!"

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By the time Talla returned to the Marauder, she had cooled down from Crosshair's irate words, but was now a bundle of nerves because she had no idea how to break the news of 99's death to them, or what Nala Se told her about her existence.

'Do I just come right out and say it? Which should be said first?' At the bottom of the entry ramp, Talla had a brief thought of running away, commandeering a ship, flying to some remote planet and becoming a simple farmer, but quickly told herself to stop being a gutless little jellyfish and marched into that ship before she was given another chance to talk herself out of it, finding the boys in the common room.

Tech had apparently stopped pacing and was now preoccupied at the workbench, Wrecker was focusing on his holovids, Crosshair was next to him calmly cleaning his rifle, and Hunter flew out of the computer room when he heard the entryway open.

Wrecker bolted from his chair and engulfed her in a big bear hug that lifted Talla off the ground, her helmet dropping in the process. "Thank the Force you're okay!" He exclaimed, and Talla was thankful for her armor because she was certain her ribs would have been crushed from his super strength had it not been for the plastoid-alloy protection. "I was ready to blast through every single long-neck to come and rescue ya!"

"I heard - sorry I didn't comm you guys." She apologized, tone strained and with gritted teeth.

"What matters is that you're safe." Wrecker sighed in relief, giving her a final squeeze that nearly snapped the woman in half before he placed her back on unsteady feet.

From the near-death by constriction, Talla hunched over and had to heave a few breaths to recover. Hunter, who had become as anxious as that 3PO protocol droid Skywalker told them a few funny stories about, he rushed to her side and was ready to catch her if need be.

"Why did Nala Se want to see you?" Hunter inquired after he was certain she wasn't going to fall.

Still hunched over, her entire body immediately stiffened. "Oh uh..." For two seconds her mind was a whirlwind of Shaak Ti's words, Cody's assumptions, and her own anxiety induced thoughts, causing her breath to hitch and heart to pound painfully in her chest. He felt her pounding heart and abnormal breathing, but thought it happened because of the after effects of a Wrecker Hug. "She..." Talla squeezed her eyes shut, made a split-second decision to spare their feelings, then straightened to look Hunter straight in the eye. "She wanted to offer her congratulations on my success. For Silva." She omitted. 'Why tell them Nala Se's hurtful words when they have proven to be so much more than the expendable science experiments she claimed they were?'

Hunter's eyebrows raised in surprise while Tech actually voiced his. "That's odd. Giving praise to clones is not in the Kaminoans' nature."

Talla tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear - a nervous habit Tech had pointed out to her - feeling a little weird omitting the other half of the conversation with Nala Se to her friends, but she decided to also protect the dynamic of this squad, and honestly felt it was the right thing to do. "Well, I am a heavy investment for the Kaminoans, so I can imagine their relief that I've met their lofty expectations."

Everyone once again felt awkward about Talla referring to herself as an 'investment' instead of a person.

Wrecker quickly changed the subject. "So, you ran into Commander Cody?"

That anxiety creeped up again. "Um, yes I did and..." Shuffling her feet Talla became crestfallen, "There's something I need to tell you guys."

"Can it wait?" Tech hoped, discarding his project of wires and chips and leaving the workbench. "We had wished to spend time with 99 while we are stationed here, and meant to see him hours ago, but had to wait for you."

Feeling as if her heart was torn out of her chest, Talla tugged at her one of her braids, both out of the crown it had originally been arranged in, and she couldn't meet anyone's inquisitive gaze. "... It's about 99." She said so quietly Hunter almost didn't catch it.

But he did, and he became anxious all over again. "What about 99?"

And her nervous fidgeting got worse. Wringing of her hands, shuffling of her feet, tugging her hair. Yet no matter how much she did it, it never did succeed in alleviating her anxiety... and yet she couldn't stop. "I have some bad news for you guys and I'm not exactly sure how to tell you." 

And that got the rest of the squad's anxiety up, and they were quick to crowd her.

"What kind of bad news?" Wrecker pressed nervously.

"What's happened with 99?" Tech pressed frantically.

Talla was forced to stumble backwards a few steps as the questions kept piling up from Wrecker, Crosshair, and soon Tech, and she ended up pressed against the back of one of the couches, her brain quickly going into overload. "Um - there was - he was - a-and then -"

"Spit. It. Out." Crosshair demanded harshly.

Hunter dispersed the crowd with a couple of shoves and held up a hand to silence their overwhelming question loads, looking at Talla with softer eyes. "Just give it to us straight." He instructed gently, but she sensed his racing heart.

Gulping, then nodding with a grimace, Talla still was unable to look at any of them in the eye. "During the invasion, 99 ended up helping Commander Cody, the reg Captain named Rex and two other troopers called Fives and Echo I told you about. They were on the front lines, and 99 delivered firearms and grenades to them when they needed it. Towards the end of the battle, they ran out of grenades, so 99 risked his life to go get more." Pain etched on her features, from her research knowing that her next words would most likely wound them so deeply it'd take them months or even years to recover from with their already present mental scars. "99 got caught in enemy fire and he... didn't make it out alive."

Hunter's felt and looked as if he got the wind knocked out of him. Unable to see Hunter in so much pain, Talla looked to the other boys, only to see them have different variations of that experience as well. She grasped her upper arm with the opposite hand and trained her eyes down on her boots, sensing the boy's drop in moods and feeling really bad about sorta being the cause of it, and began rambling. "I would have commed you, but Commander Cody said that this should be said in person - I felt bad because there was no time to invite you guys to the small funeral, so that's why I was gone so long - I wanted to postpone the pain his death would cause you and the fact that you couldn't even say a proper goodbye to someone who was the closest thing to a parental figure you'll ever get, and receive proper closure at his funeral." There was nothing left to explain or say, so she shut up and waited for them to speak now.

Sadly, no one did, because she was right - the pain of losing the closest thing to a parental figure was an indescribable pain that gripped their heart with tendrils covered in barbed wire, especially because the death was unexpected.

One by one the boys silently left the common area. Wrecker and Crosshair to their respective rooms. Tech to the cargo hold to look over the manifest and see if they had everything needed to depart as soon as possible.

And finally, after being rigid as a board and silent as the grave for a time frame Talla couldn't put a number to, Hunter fled back into the computer room before she could see his own eyes become glassy with tears he refused to let fall.

Soon Talla was standing alone in the common area, wondering what she should with this day that went from nightmarish to just plain Hell's eviler twin.

Chapter Text

The rest of the evening proved to be more distressing for Talla than the mission on Silva, and that was saying something because she actually lost half a limb and almost died because of it. But in this instance, Talla had lost the company of her three friends and crotchety roommate.

...

That last one wasn't as devastating of a loss, but still it was hard to bear his silence that proved to be so much more vexing than his reign of verbal terror. And the usual spark of mischief in his eyes, the bane of her existence, it was gone, leaving behind a haunted man. It was admittedly sad to watch him try to suppress the crushing grief. But it was also proof he had a heart, right? Maybe?

The inexperienced Clone Agent had researched grief for the death of a loved one when General Kenobi 'died', so she expected the guys to experience a flurry of negative emotions, but that didn't make watching any of them go through it easy. Not by a long shot.

Once the shock wore off, each of them ended up locked in their dark rooms and didn't even eat dinner. Talla could sense their anger, and underneath that their anguish at losing someone who was a large part of their life and she felt completely helpless for not knowing exactly how to offer comfort. These battle-hardened men were not big on having heart to heart talks about their feelings, a big way to aid in coping. And she also didn't know who would accept a hug, another form of comfort she personally liked. Hunter and Tech were almost always eager listeners while Wrecker was ready with his hugs when she was having a rough time, but when it came to themselves... that was uncharted territory. They never opened up on how they emotionally dealt with their traumas inflicted by Nala Se, just the skills Tech researched to help deal with the symptoms.

But Talla was resolved to find a way to help out somehow, because they deserved support. 

They'd be taking off sometime tomorrow afternoon after getting their clothes laundered, and stayed the night in the docked ship instead of their personal barracks. Talla didn't sleep a wink, racking her brain for ways to show support without making the boys feel in any more uncomfortable. Of course, she couldn't change things or take away the pain sadly, but she could aid in their healing! The mental health journals she had found through the Net gave tons of suggestions on how to support a grieving person, but another issue Talla faced was that she also didn't want to overwhelm them. That'd make them more tense, which also wouldn't help things.

'So start with simple things.' Her brain told her. 'Like, help ease their loads!' 

'Hmmm...'

'Crosshair always gets up early to make the caf - I could get up earlier and do it for him... yeah!'

'Aaannnnddddd...' 

'Oh, Wrecker loves food, so maybe I can figure out how to make Iktotch Toast, he'd like that!' 

'Now Tech...'

'Okay, he's been meaning to work on the hyperdrive, but he has thirty different other projects to do around the ship, maybe I should do it instead - I can practically build a hyperdrive in my sleep! And I can do some of the other methodical projects too...'

'Oh, and usually Hunter drops off their washing, but I could drop it off this time!' 

In theory, it didn't seem like much to her. But hopefully it'd be just the start. 

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(DAY 16 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Crosshair usually got up every morning at 6:30 on the dot when their sleep schedules weren't thrown off by a mission. So Talla got up at 6:20 and silently made her way into the kitchenette and as quietly as possible brewed the pot of caf. From observations, Talla knew that Crosshair liked a little bit of cream and a smitchen of sugar with his caf.

Just as she was finished fixing his mug the Sniper shuffled into the kitchen. For a lack of better words, he looked like hell. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, short silver hair sticking up in random places, blacks heavily wrinkled. This was a sight to see, because Crosshair always looked spic and span in the morning, his hair tamed and armor or civvies on before he emerged from his room, so Talla knew he had a rough night with probably little to no sleep and instead tossed and turned relentlessly.

He paused in the doorway when he saw Talla turn when the door opened and hold out the steaming mug of caf with a smile. "Morning!"

Crosshair looked blankly at the mug, then back up at Talla.

When he made no move to accept the liquid sustenance, she stepped up closer to him and practically held the cup of caf under his nose so that the heavenly scent would entice him to take it. "Just a splash of cream and sugar, right?" Talla confirmed, mostly so he'd know she made it the way he liked it.

Crosshair squinted at her suspiciously. "How do I know it's not poisoned?" He couldn't help but ask.

Smile wiped from her face, Talla lowered the mug. "Poison - W-why would you think it's poisoned?"

"Because I hate you." He deadpanned.

Talla's jaw clenched, and her fingers tapped the mug as she tried to maintain the reigns on her temper. 'Why should I have even bothered?' Man, it was hard to not go off on him now and defend herself from this absurd insinuation. "Yes well, I know you just suffered a huge loss, and so I thought since you're going through a hard time -"

Suspicion turned into a defensive glare. "I don't want your pity."

Talla fervently shook her head and maintained the calmness. "No, I don't pity you, Crosshair, I just thought I'd help you out."

The suspicion returned. "Why? What's your angle? Which won't work."

"Okay, despite what you say, or rather don't say, I'm a bad person, Crosshair." Her finger shot up when he opened his mouth to protest, "And before you go and bring up the slapping incident, I am going to make myself very clear - I don't lash out like that unless someone drives me over the edge, which is what you deliberately did despite knowing that I'm going through a hard time too with adjusting." Talla had to take a breath to calm down the temper flare. 'If he's grieving he has a heart, and if he has a heart he deserves compassion, and if I give him compassion maybe he'll finally want to work things out.' She slowly let out the breath, "But I'm working on it. And because of that, I've decided to put aside my frustrations with you for now, and I want to help out my teammate who just suffered the loss of a loved one." She gestured to the caf machine, "I know you always prepare the caf in the mornings and I thought it'd be beneficial for your healing if I took that load off your shoulders so you could just relax a little bit before the day truly begins." She held up the mug again hopefully. "So here, take this and drink it before it gets cold." He again didn't make a move to accept it, so a little annoyance seeped through the cracks of her calm facade again. "I don't have all day." She remarked shortly, "I have to get started on breakfast."

Crosshair would usually prey on her tendency to become real angry real quick, but too emotionally exhausted he just accepted the caf, "Since when do you cook?" He asked with a raised brow. 

Talla put her hands on her hips and shrugged. "This'll be my first try at it." She admitted, having no clue what she was getting into.

Even grieving, Crosshair could gave a short, snide chuckle, and left Talla to her own clueless devices. He took a tentative sip of his caf, and secretly made an impressed face when his back was turned to her, for the hot beverage tasted just how he liked it. He wasn't sure how to feel with the sweet gesture. It conflicted him.

Under the grim circumstances, Talla swallowed her scathing comeback and made eye contact with the stove, which now looked incredibly intimidating. She sighed, and recited the first steps found on the HoloNet. "Okay, so I have to beat an egg with vanilla extract and cinnamon for the bread to soak up -"

Talla learned a lot of things that morning.

First, there was apparently an art to cracking eggs - she went through five before successfully cracking one against the bowl without causing it to explode into an ooey, gooey, yokey mess.

Second, there was an art to beating an egg in a bowl with a fork - two bowls were harmed in the making of this breakfast. And by harmed, I mean shattered.

Third, the smoke sensors in the kitchenette were out of order, which Talla found out when the first piece of soaked bread burnt into a smoky black crisp.

Talla was thankful for that last one plus the sealed kitchen door. It spared her the embarrassment of alerting her teammates of her initial failure with blaring smoke alarms, though the grey haze trapped inside the small area burned her nostrils and lungs, causing her to have a coughing fit. But she didn't give up, "It's *cough* okay!" She reassured herself, *several coughs* "It's alright!" *COUGH COUGH* *wheeeeze*" Talla blindly tossed away the smoldering remains into the garbage chute, eyes stinging up a storm, and didn't risk talking to herself again. 'If you can take on an entire Seppie Base by yourself, you can figure out how to make some damn toast!' 

The second piece of soaked bread still ended up burning, but not as bad as the first. So with the third, she checked on it every few seconds as it seared on the hot pan, which made the cooking process go by slower but hey, it didn't burn!

*cue mini victory dance* 💃🏻

Talla got the swing of things after that, and she was able to cook enough toast for each one to have two except Wrecker - he got four. Talla prepared a serving tray with the plate holding the pyramid of piping hot toast and other containers holding its toppings plus the extra plates and utensils, and another tray held the caf pot, three extra mugs, sugar canister and cream jug.

Talla finished just as the rest of the guys woke up. Due to having to carry both trays, she had to press the access button with her booted foot to exit the kitchen. Crosshair tried to nonchalantly peek at the trays when she carefully set them down on the table. He was secretly curious to see if she managed to cook something decent and was pleasantly surprised when everything looked delicious. 

"I see you managed not to blow up the ship." He taunted while she was so kindly fixing a plate for him. Apparently indescribable pain didn't stop him from making at least one derogatory comment. 

"Yup." Talla said, not taking the bait and setting his kindly fixed up plate and fork before him, which Crosshair wasn't expecting. Tech walked in at that moment, and he also sported a very disheveled look and had enormous bags under his eyes, so she prepared his plate too. "On a completely and totally unrelated note, the smoke sensors don't work in the kitchen, so I'll fix those today after I work on the hyperdrive."

The Sniper found this unintentional admission of failure humorous of course and gave a small smirk before taking a bite of his breakfast.

Tech gave her a weird look at this plan, and also the fine-looking meal Talla had prepared. She poured him a cup and added the exact ratio of cream and sugar she had taken note of, and set that and his plate next to Crosshair, beckoning for him to sit down and eat, which he slowly did, slightly weirded out and simultaneously surprised, but pleasantly so. "I have been meaning to get to the hyperdrive." Tech admitted unsurely, looking down at his lap with dull eyes and not yet touching the food given to him, though it smelled ✨heavenly✨

"Don't worry, I know how to recalibrate it." Talla assured him, fixing Wrecker's plate and caf when he next shuffled into the common area with his Lula tucked in the crook of his elbow, faint pink tracks on his cheeks from tears apparently shed throughout the night. "I'll take care of that and some of the other maintenance that needs to be done before we leave." Much to Talla's relief, Tech looked so relieved to have that weight off of his shoulders, and at that dug into the delicious breakfast. This relief also felt nice for her because before she came along, Tech didn't allow anyone to mess with the ship's inner workings except his own brilliant self, so that meant he trusted Talla's skills!

Wrecker scooched down next to Tech, and Talla felt warmth spark in her chest when some light come to his eyes when he beheld the heavenly breakfast treat before him, and eagerly began eating. "Tanks, Talla." He said warmly around a bite of toast.

Her smile and nod in return were endearing, and she gave herself a mental high-five as three out of the four Bad Batch boys were getting nutrition and hydrating themselves.'This is actually helping!!! I'm helping out!!! And making them feel even a little bit better!!! Granted, this breakfast is practically pure sugary goodness, and the caf isn't technically the proper hydration they need... Baby steps,' she told herself so no hope would be lost. 'At least the boys are putting something in their systems.' 

The Sergeant of the Bad Batch walked in a few minutes later, and Talla had to do a double take. Shockingly his appearance was immaculate, though this didn't fool Talla like it did with his brothers once her eyes picked up the other symptoms of a sleepless night like the other three possessed. She clearly saw the dark rings under his dazed and reddened eyes, his sagging shoulders, and also sensed what was going on inside - his low mood and anger. He was taken aback when he saw the waiting breakfast and cup of caf. Like everyone else did, he looked at her oddly. "You... made breakfast?"

"And the caf." Wrecker informed him, taking a sip of his.

Hunter slowly lowered himself down onto a seat. "What's the occasion?" The baffled Sergeant wondered, wrapping his shaky hands around the warm mug. He hadn't eaten since before lunch yesterday and was starting to feel the effects of it. But the sight and smell of the food made him want to vomit.

Talla merely shrugged. "Just thought you'd guys would like it." Was her simple reply before returning to her room, leaving them to eat in peace while she got ready for the day.

Hunter stared down at his mug with furrowed eyebrows, and his confusion increased tenfold when Talla emerged from her room ten minutes later dressed in her armor, hair all braided into a crown like usual, and pushing her personal crate of dirty laundry. But the rising confusion didn't stop there - no, she went and grabbed the one in the boys' refresher, filled to the brim from all of Crosshair's linens, which prompted the Sergeant to finally ask, "What are you doing?"

"Taking this to the laundry droids." She pushed the stack of levitating crates in front of her and made her way off the ship, calling over her shoulder, "Just put the dishes by the sink and I'll wash them after I come back, then I'll get to the maintenance around the ship!"

Hunter looked to his brothers for answers, hoping they had one. He usually did their laundry, and she had never been within two feet of the stove... or used the caf machine... or voluntarily washed everyone's dirty dishes and clothes.

"She's helping out." Crosshair stiffly informed him, setting down his fork at having finished his breakfast.

Hunter made a confused gesture with his hands, "Why?"

"Because of what happened with 99, she says." The Sniper had decided he was SO not going to buy into the whole 'compassionate' act. It was all an act to earn his trust while he was weak and vulnerable, then she'd strike! Uh-uh, he wasn't going to go out that way. He had to go on, for 99, and honor his memory.

Hunter's frown turned sour, becoming indignant just like the Sniper did earlier, but not for the same mistrustful reasons. "We're not helpless." He contended, "We've dealt with death before, and managed just fine without handouts."

"Would you rather we sit in a circle, braid each other's hair and talk about our feelings?" Crosshair rhetorically snarked, "Because that's the alternative." Crosshair would never voice his appreciation at the fact that she knew enough by now that they preferred not doing that. "Just let her do it, Hunter." 

'Better she stays busy instead of badgering us.' Hunter translated. 

Tech and Wrecker nodded, going along with Crosshair's verbal statement, so Hunter could only return his gaze down to his mug again. But he still felt the frustration. 'With her helping out, what am I going to do now?' 

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Having studied the schematics for Tipoca City at Tech's insistence, the Special Agent found the laundromat with no problems, dropped off the crates of clothes, and was making her way back to the ship when she ran into, not literally this time, a reg who had proven to not be a total jerk: Captain Rex.

He was heading in the opposite direction and spotted her enchanting presence across the hallway. His legs had a mind of their own and before he knew it, he had intercepted her. "Captain!" Talla exclaimed when he suddenly appeared in her path, then of course gave a proper greeting of respect. Man, she was getting tired of having to salute so much. "Nice to see you again, sir!"

He nodded, "Likewise." Seeming calm and cool on the outside but inside, his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. "What are you doing in the city?"

Talla thought about calling a medic, his elevated heart rate obvious to her, but Rex didn't seem to be experiencing other symptoms of a heart attack so a nudge of the shoulder in the direction of the laundromat behind her was followed by, "Just running some last-minute errands before we get our next assignment."

The corners of his mouth lifted at the irony. "Well, I happen to have just that." He pulled a small, thick, metal electronic holodisk from a pouch on his belt and held it out for her to take. "Commander Cody had to leave Kamino last night and asked me to drop this off to your squad first thing in the morning since I'm not due to leave yet." Talla obviously had no idea what this was, if the flipping this way and that in her hands was any indication, "It's a bounty puck." He kindly elaborated, "Cody needs your squad to hunt down a piece of rankweed who's causing a rebellion on a planet aligned with the Republic."

"So cut the leader down, the rebellion should collapse." Talla finished with an excited grin, tucking away the puck away in her belt. "My first insurrection - this should be fun!" Despite the fact it should be concerning for someone to be so eager for violence, Rex returned the grin because her smile was contagious.

But then there was an awkward silence.

Rex decided he still wanted the conversation to continue and wracked his brain for those agonizing four seconds. "Uh, how'd your squad take the news about 99?" He wondered soberly.

Talla grimaced. "Not too well." Rex's nod was understanding, as was the slight drooping of his eyelids in sadness. "They didn't eat, didn't sleep and they're hardly talking. I got them to have a little breakfast this morning, and I'm taking over a lot of chores around the ship so they can focus on processing this loss." She sighed in frustration. "I wish we didn't have to take any missions right away, but I guess war doesn't stop for anyone."

"No, it doesn't." Rex hmphed with equal irritation, remembering how many of his brothers had died and not being able to fully mourn them, and now 99. It wasn't fair.

"Yeah..." Another bout of silence took place as Talla gave Rex a curious once over, who had averted his gaze so she wouldn't see the anguish in his eyes. From what she could tell, the reg Captain seemed like a nice guy who wasn't as mean as the other clone troopers. He didn't even give off an aura of hostility the other regs had. This prompted a hopeful Talla to bashfully tucking a face framing lock of hair behind her ear and ask, "Got any good advice on how to help soldiers who are grieving, that doesn't involve actually talking about it?" The Captain was taken aback by this vulnerable question but his features softened, feeling honored to be asked, that she found him approachable. "Usually I'd ask my team, but they're kinda the ones going through the issue I have no idea how to handle, so all I've got for reference is the HoloNet, and I want to know if there's anything more I can do for them than just chores and attempting to provide nice, home-cooked meals..."

Rex slight chuckle wasn't mocking, but a little humorous because he remembered how unprepared he was for the cruel mistress that was the real world. "It seems to have given you the right information." He stated truthfully, "I wish I had the help you're giving when I lost a brother I was close to."

Her silver orbs were wide with the new hope. "Really, sir? You're not just saying that?"

His, 'No,' was genuine, but he become thoughtful for a second. "Just, remember to be patient with them." Was the advice he gave, she eagerly listened to, "They may snap at you sometimes, even if you don't do anything to deserve it, but they're not angry with you, they're angry at what happened." He became sheepish, admitting a weakness of his, "And you're right, us battle worn soldiers don't like talking about our feelings, but that doesn't mean we won't." He gave a half-shrug, "Sometimes, we do need a listening ear."

Filing away this helpful knowledge, Talla gave him an appreciative smile. "I'll be sure to remember that." Again, there was another awkward silence, which made Talla extremely self-conscious, and she made the movement of tucking away a lock of hair behind her ear again (her nervous habit) but there weren't stray hairs to fiddle with, so she opted to clear her throat and clasp her fidgety hands behind her back. "Well, I should get going! I've got heaps to do and not a lot of time to do it now!"

"Right!" Rex quickly agreed, but added, "Well, you should know this mission isn't as time sensitive as others, so I'm sure you could wait a day or two before heading out."

Talla gave a short laugh at the misplaced optimism. "That helps some, but I mean it when I say I got heaps to do - Tech's been meaning to do thirty or so different projects around the ship, big and small, and I want to ease his load so I intend to do at least seventy-five percent of them, including recalibrating the hyperdrive." She bashfully shrug, "He just looked so relieved when I offered to do it for him."

Rex couldn't stop his admiration from surfacing this time. "Your squadron is very lucky to have you on the team, Talla." And how he wished she'd been assigned to the 501st instead of this Clone Force 99, because he would have loved to see more of her.He knew that after today, the chances of seeing this Clone Agent for the Republic sooner than a couple of months or even the better part of half a year were next to nothing, because Cody made sure to tell him her squadron didn't work with other troopers that often. So, they'd have no business to reconnect them.

And Talla didn't give Rex a chance to ask for her private comm channel to maybe even attempt to find some time to get to know each other better. A fierce blush had crept onto Talla's cheeks at the compliment the nice reg gave her, a flattered 'Thank you, sir,' was followed by a bashful giggle that made her freeze in shock - 'Did that come out of MY MOUTH?!' Next thing he knew, she side-stepped around him with a skittish, "See ya around, Cap!" And scurried in the direction of her assigned Ship Hanger.

Following her flighty movements with regret, Rex once again watched her retreating figure with longing. The more he learned about this Special Agent, the more intriguing she became. And he wanted to get to know this woman better, move past the awkward silences that came with the territory of being mere acquaintances.

Unfortunately for Rex, he was right in thinking he wouldn't be seeing Talla again for a very long time. And by then, she'd be heavily involved with a certain deviant Clone Sergeant.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Recovered from the confusing encounter with the Reg Captain, Talla immediately noticed the boys' dishes piled on the counter by the sink when entering the Marauders kitchen. She frowned when one plate had the breakfast she prepared still on it, untouched. She'd seen Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker eating their portions on her way out, so it must've been Hunter who didn't eat. 'He hasn't had anything to eat since lunchtime yesterday.' Talla mentally noted to herself, concerned. 'Hm. Gotta keep a closer eye on him.' 

After washing the dishes, Talla retrieved Tech's toolbox kept at the workbench and got to work on the hyperdrive. He had explained in detail what components he wanted to tweak and replace with parts he had taken from the original Havoc Marauder's hyperdrive (which he had also tweaked) to turn the .6 engine on their Kappa-class Shuttle into a .5 engine, which in simpler terms meant the ship would calculate the jump into hyperspace and travel through lightspeed faster.

Piece of cake. The Kaminoans had made sure SAC-1 knew everything there was to know about starships during her pilot training. The hyperdrive generator was located in the hallway that led to the cockpit, and soon the wall was opened to expose the engine, tools/parts were strewn about the area, and Talla was inside fiddling with the complex system, tongue sticking out in deep concentration.

(A/N: just a say, I have NO IDEA how hyperdrive engines work or where they are located. I tried researching hyperdrives, and there's limited info on it. So I'm really not sure if anything in this scene is accurate, which is why it's brief and vague. Yeaaahhhhh... I apologize for the starship experts if they ever read my story. I know none of this is probably realistic or right, so if anyone knows the correct terms or workings of a hyperdrive, I'd love to hear what you have to say, and will be glad to correct it!)

Talla was so focused on recalibrating the paralight system, colorfully cussing out the Kaminoans modifications to the ship that must have been done by a complete amateur, that she didn't notice Hunter walk up.

"What are you doing?" 

Talla's whipped around with a gasp, dropping the tool. "Geez, you scared me!" She exclaimed, clutching the area over her palpitating heart. Unfazed, Hunter inspected the exposed hyperdrive and mess in the hallway with a disapproving eye, so she threw her palms up. "Don't worry, I'm upgrading the hyperdrive system, then I'll fix the huge, gaping hole in the wall and clean up my mess."

Hunter's nose scrunched at the tasks she had taken upon herself since 99 died, tasks meant for him to take over as the strong leader of the squadron. "Tech usually handles the upgrades."

"I decided to take that load off of him." She smiled.

Unexpectedly, Hunter swiped a hand down his tired face with a sigh, clearly not a sign he was happy about this. "Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but we're fully capable of handling our chores, Talla." He claimed rigidly.

'Remember to be patient with them... They're not angry with you , they're angry at what happened.' Still, seeing him start to slip back into that same man who so intensely berated her after the mission failure on Silva, the impatient one who wouldn't let her get in a word for her defense, it made Talla want to clam up, but she still tried to contradict him as calmly as possible. "Tech looked relieved when I told him I'd be doing the ship maintenance." Bending down to pick up the tool she dropped, Talla needed having that short break to collect herself from looking at his eyes that were a clear window to his broken spirit. "And the other two didn't protest when I handled breakfast."

"Well -" Hunter stopped himself, made a noise of frustration and side stepped away, his entire posture rigid.

Talla felt his frustration growing by the second and became very concerned very quickly. He had stated once that his temper flares were a rare occurrence for him, during another apology for how he had treated her on Silva. But this was one of several that had happened since she joined the squad only a short while ago, so Talla was starting to wonder: 'What is it about me that makes him so frustrated so quickly?' 

And he was determined to never let her find out, neither the already present issue nor the new one on top of that. "Alright, they're taking 99's death a little more badly than I thought they would, so helping them out is fine, but I can do my own chores, got it?"

Talla fiddled with the tool in her hand nervously, having an inkling that her next words would tip him over the edge. "Hunter, I know that 99's death has affected you more than you're letting on."

Her instincts were right - his manner became incredibly defensive and downright insulted, but she was desperate for him to spend some time focusing on processing the whole tragedy. He didn't share that same want. "What would you know about how I'm feeling?" He rhetorically demanded with a sharp edge in his tone, "You have no idea what I'm going through."

Talla mirrored that sharpness, fiercely trying to not clam up. "Maybe so, but I have enhanced senses, so the negative impact your reeling emotions are having on you, I can sense just as easily as you and I can sense electromagnetic frequencies anywhere on a planet." She paused, almost backing out on saying her point-blank statement, "What I can't figure out is that your clearly suffering, but rejecting the help offered to you."

Hunter couldn't believe that he forgot about her enhanced senses again, and quickly changed the subject. "When will the clothes be ready?"

Internally sighing, Talla really hoping she'd get somewhere with the spiraling Sergeant, but decided not to push her luck any further... there was a lot of sharp objects in the vicinity. "I was told an hour so they should be ready now, but I'll pick them up after I'm done with this." She said, indicating the disassembled generator behind her.

"I'll do it." He volunteered, turning sharply on his heel and fleeing the alleged 'busybody' Agent.

Talla could only shake her head sadly, turning back to the hyperdrive.

Chapter Text

(DAY 18 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

The Bad Batch were supposed to head back to Coruscant right after things wrapped up here on Kamino, but Wrecker didn't want his new girlfriend to see him this way. So sad. So broken.

Those weren't his words exactly, but Talla got that vibe when Wrecker dodged Skylar's comm this morning at breakfast, two days after he told her they'd be back after the Battle for Kamino. It was remarkable his girlfriend had enough restraint to wait this long before calling, because Skylar knew her boyfriend's squadron was on the front lines and could have very well died if there was a second attack after the first.

On the other hand, if Wrecker did happen to be alive, Skylar didn't want to appear clingy. It was not a good two days for Skylar, to say the least.

When she explained this reasoning after getting a hold of Talla soon after that first call, and Wrecker gave his friend permission to explain what happened because he didn't want her to worry, the Agent couldn't quite understand it. From Talla's point of view, if someone she cared about was scheduled to arrive at a certain time, but they didn't, and they didn't establish contact to explain why they were twelve hours, twenty-four hours, FORTY-EIGHT HOURS LATE, and she knew that they were in the midst of a potential battleground... a comm would be warranted for her peace of mind much sooner than what Skylar settled on.

Either way, Wrecker's girlfriend was really relieved she hadn't become a widow... or whatever the technical term was for a woman losing her boyfriend of less than three days. Was there even a technical term? Probably not.

Anyway, you get the idea! 

Talla kept her word and completed most of Tech's tedious work around the ship, she tried to make sure the boys ate by taking them to the mess hall, and generally was always ready to be there for her friends when they needed it.

They all ended up accepting comfort in different ways:

📱 Tech 📱

When she sensed Tech's mood was at a really low point, Talla coaxed him out of his room to watch Holovids, finding the channel with the thriller crime drama they'd grown fond of. They enjoyed swapping theories and predictions while viewing it, even having some full-blown debates.

This time around though, Tech just huddled in the corner of the couch, wrapped in the cozy blanket Talla had purchased in the Coruscant Markets, silently sipping his cup of tea Talla also got for him. For the longest time, she didn't do anything but just silently sit next to him, which made her feel so useless.

Except, about halfway through their third episode, Tech said this: "Grief is a normal response to the loss of a loved one."

Talla jumped when she heard his small voice, but immediately recovered so she wouldn't miss a thing, and tucked her leg under her to twist in his direction, propping her arm on the back of the couch. She gave him her full, undivided attention. He didn't return her gaze, in fact it seemed like he was focused on the holovids, but even with the flashing kaleidoscope of colors within his glassy eyes from the projector, they still looked dull and lifeless.

It took him a bit to find the right words, which was weird because Tech ALWAYS knew what to say, but this was not a battle scene. Anxiously, he tapped his fingers against the cold mug for an inordinate amount of time. "Grief is ... unpredictable." He eventually stated, "It comes and goes, and the emotional variations and fluctuations on top of that... what I am experiencing makes me feel like I am violently twisting and turning through an aerial battlefield." Tech paused, then shook his head once, "No, a better example would be your first flying lesson, because there I had no control as what was going to happen, thus I was unable to prepare myself for the violent whiplash." If this was Crosshair giving a comment like that, Talla would have instantly become defensive because it would be said to make her feel bad. But Tech, he just stated facts. And for a fact, her first flying lesson was no picnic, and that was putting it lightly. It was a good metaphor. "The healing process is going to be long... and difficult." Tech continued, "... and it should not be done alone... in fact it is most effective with the help of friends."

Talla deduced that this was his own way of opening up and saying: "Thank you, for all your doing. You have really helped make this horrible situation more bearable."

💣 Wrecker 💣

When she sensed Wrecker hit a really low point, Talla approached him with a smile and asked if he wanted to work out, which she knew he did in for preparation for a battle, for fun, and also when he was stressed. After some hesitation he said sure, so she brought her gear into his shockingly still cleanish room and the two of them vigorously exercised, Talla with her heavy weights and portable pull up bar, and Wrecker with his own set of weights.

But as the two of them silently did their own routines, Talla secretly watched from the corner of her eyes Wrecker's deep scowl while he used his anger to push himself to his limits.

When he finally reached it, he growled loudly and ended up using the last bit of his strength to chuck the 450lb weight at the wall opposite from him.

Talla was doing chin ups on that same wall with her pull-up bar and flinched when it caused a big BANG! five inches away from her head. She dropped from the pull-up bar, and focused her attention on Wrecker, who was now sitting on the edge of his bunk, hunched over with his head in his hands. He was not going to cry in front of her, but he definitely was in deep emotional turmoil. The Agent was unsure what to do at first, just cautiously approached her friend while wringing her hands together, slowly lowerimg herself next to him.

Talla knew that he was the Bad Batcher who seemed to find physical touch more soothing than words, if the constantly invading everyone's personal space was any proof. So, a caring hand was laid on his shoulder, and when he didn't protest Talla went a step further and wrapped her arms the best she could around his massive upper body, and set her cheek against his shoulder in a hug that she hoped was warm and soothing since they weren't wearing their armor.

He responded positively to the hug thank goodness, leaning into her touch and letting out a little breath of relief, and they remained that way for some time. "Thanks, Talla." He eventually murmured.

"Anytime, Wreck." She responded kindly.

And she obviously also kindly fixed the new window created through the wall separating Wrecker and Tech's rooms.

🎯 Crosshair 🎯

With Crosshair, it was harder to help him because he was so distrustful of her, and there were still some underlying hurt feelings on her part. Talla had to keep reminding herself: 'If he's so upset over 99's death, he must have cared for him deeply, so he must a heart.' 

Boy, did he make it difficult though.

Talla kept making the caf in the morning, but Crosshair didn't find it very outgoing on his behalf after he had seen what she did for the other two. ''Wow, you made the caf.'' He said monotonously when she handed him his mug the second morning. ''I see you go above and beyond for Wrecker and Tech, but I'm apparently chopped convor liver.'' Scowling, he angrily strided away, not even accepting the warm beverage.

Talla actually considered giving up on him, but again: 'If he's so upset over what happened, he must have a heart.' 

Late that night, Crosshair was unable to sleep again, and ended up finding his nemesis sitting on a crate in the cargo hold, doing the routine maintenance on their extra rifles and blasters. That was something he usually did, but he was quick to assume it was out of guilt or want to keep up appearances rather than compassion. ''Now you try and do more for me. Funny how it's only after I say something.''

Talla just calmly shook her head, continuing her check up on the DC-17 hand blaster in her hand. ''You misread the situation - Hunter was doing your other chores, but he didn't get to this tonight, so I was finally able to do something more for you than just making the caf.'' Crosshair didn't know how to feel about this reveal, how to respond, but she wasn't finished anyways. ''Plus, even though I've only been with you guys for a couple of weeks, I already know that you're very different from Tech and Wrecker.'' She sent up at him a knowing look through her lashes, ''If I tried getting you out of your room or hugging you, you would have bit my head off, and I mean that literally, so I thought it best that I gave you space and when Hunter reached his limits I'd step in and help you out with this.''

Again, Crosshair didn't know what to say to that, for she certainly appeared to be right - he had misread the situation. He wouldn't accept it of course, and quickly turned the conversation around, lest he start believing her lies. He crossed his arms and leaned against a crate pile next to her, giving off a fake relaxed mood to make her think he was falling for her lies instead, because Talla did have a blaster in her skilled hands.  It would be easy for her to take her nemesis out, but Crosshair figured she was smart enough to not stupidly do it - there'd be no believable cover story to the others. Better safe than sorry though. "You need to go to sleep.'' He asserted. 

''You're one to talk.'' Talla retorted lightheartedly, setting aside the blaster inside the padded case. ''This is your third night in a row not sleeping.'' She picked out another. 

''I'll be fine.'' Crosshair claimed defensively.

"Then so will I.'' She snapped the powerpack back in with a click. 

Crosshair rolled his eyes. Whether this behavior was for manipulation purposes, or just because Talla was too nice, he found himself infuriatingly unsure of. ''You've been running yourself to the ground helping everyone out.''

The glance of disbelief he received from Talla was teasing, for she wanted to keep the mood relaxed so HE'D stay relaxed. ''Is the emotionless, borderline sociopathic Sniper of the Bad Batch actually concerned about me?''

"Don't insult me." Crosshair sneered, utterly repulsed. ''If you fall asleep during our next mission it'll screw things up.''

A wave of the blaster - their means of defense - emphasized Talla's point. ''We also can't have faulty weapons, because that'd screw things up real nice too, wouldn't it?''

Crosshair huffed with another roll of his eyes. He pondered his next actions very carefully for a minute. He ended up walking to the line of rifles leaning in front of her, picked one up and plopped down across from the Clone Agent. As a result, the corners of Talla's lips lifted in triumph, thinking maybe this was his silent way of saying he'd help out, so she'd get to bed at a decent time. ''Don't read too much into it.'' Crosshair made sure to growl, and Talla chuckled, but swiftly silenced herself when he shot her a scathing look.

He was only doing this because the methodical checking and cleaning of a rifle was something that always calmed him down, and Crosshair had already done so with his precious Firepuncher three times already - it now gleamed even in Kamino's pitiful sunlight.

The two of them worked in silence... and again he'd never admit it, but Crosshair's mood did lift as the time went on... as much as it could for a guy like him... and he actually did become relaxed. Talla would go so far as to say that the two of them experienced comfortable silence. Hopefully this meant things between them were looking up.

💀 Hunter 💀

You would think that helping these three out would be what sucked all the energy out of Talla, but no, it actually wasn't. Most of her energy was spent keeping an eye on the so-called stoic leader of the Bad Batch.

Hunter worked himself to death, taking over lots of Crosshair and Wrecker's chores when they didn't have motivation to complete them, plus his own on top of that, and the work he did as Sergeant of the squad shoveled into that hole he was digging himself into. Being a light sleeper and having the room next to his, Talla knew Hunter worked late into the night, crashed around 4am for an hour or two, then trudged through the day again trying to keep a brave face on for his younger brothers. Her surveillance also revealed he was living on straight caf and a few bites of ration bars. With all of this and the emotional turmoil, the usually calm, cool and collected leader had become a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

Unfortunately for Talla, she was the cause of Hunter blowing up, and had lost track of how many times he had lost his cool since she joined the team.

Hunter stayed behind on the ship when the rest went to the mess hall for lunch today. While they were gone he answered a call from Commander Cody, who wanted to check in and remind them that the mission Rex delivered to them wasn't time sensitive, but hopefully they'd be in a better frame of mind within the week.

"... What mission?" Hunter asked. 

"The one Captain Rex ended up giving to Talla." Commander Cody repeated, then seeing Hunter's blank expression continued with some hesitation, "... Agent Talla was supposed to relay the information." An awkward silence occured when both realized that Talla had, in fact, NOT informed Hunter of the mission. And by Hunter's aura of wrath that could be literally felt through the hologram, Cody knew the poor woman was in for it again.

Needless to say, when Talla walked back into the ship she was met with a seething cauldron of rage. "You received a mission and didn't tell me about it?!" Hunter roared when the lunch bunch returned.

Her steps staggered in shock. "How'd you find out?"

This confirmation did not make him any less furious. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

Talla knew she had to tread lightly, "I just figured you all needed a couple of days to process 99's death before we went back to work," She explained slowly and carefully, "And when Captain Rex told me that this mission wasn't time sensitive, I thought it was something like a..." She shrugged sheepishly, "A divine intervention, perhaps?" 🥲

"How dare you assume we can't do our job!" Hunter roared again.

Her tone was still even, "I didn't say that." Which only succeeded in frustrating him more. Calmly, she gestured to the other three guys who were watching with wide eyes, "Look, these three might be able to handle a mission, but you're in no way ready to." Hunter's glare intensified, but she pressed on, tremendously wanting him to see reason. "You're barely sleeping, barely eating, and blowing up over the littlest things -"

"Scram!" Hunter barked to the others, which snapped them out of their stupor and then they quickly fled to their rooms, each throwing over their shoulder a pitying glance at Talla before their doors shut behind them. Crosshair usually enjoyed the drama, but now it just made him uncomfortable. And sorry for her. And confused as to why she made Hunter lose it so easily so much. The Sniper had done far worse things than her. Like the Sarlacc Pit incident. 

Once they were out of earshot, Talla spoke again. "Hunter, I was just looking out for you like friends are supposed to -"

"First, you overstep your boundaries," Sergeant Hunter interrupted, "Then, you withhold important information I am entitled to know, and now you've questioned my authority in front of the squadron and humiliated me in front of Commander Cody - you're way out of line, soldier." Sergeant Mode was working overtime, not even allowing them to discuss this in a friendly manner.

It was Silva all over again. Her clamming up and sputtering out broken apologies was just a natural response after Silva and before that, the evil Kaminoan labs with their evil scientists, who acted as if she could do no good as well. "I didn't mean to -"

"No, you never do." Hunter crudely remarked, then held his palm out. "Give me the puck."

Wide-eyed Talla held his gaze for a moment. 'I was just trying to help - helping people is in my blood! How did helping my friend end up backfiring so badly?'

She could only sigh in defeat when he snapped his fingers in a silent order to give him the puck now, and the Clone Agent pulled it out from her belt and smacked it into his palm and rightly guessing she already knew the information within this digital silver disk, Sergeant Hunter ordered her to fire up the ship.

They were to leave immediately.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

⏱️(SOME HOURS LATER)⏱️

The ship landed in a secluded spot on the jungle planet about twenty clicks south from the rebel base, to avoid being detected on any ground floor scanners, and they planned on riding their speeders the rest of the way.

The large back ramp lowered, and Hunter gave instructions for what each member of the Bad Batch would be required to do... except Talla.

"... And, what will I be doing?" She questioned after a confused pause, thinking he forgot about her being here, which would be understandable - she'd only been with them for a short while. It'd make sense she wasn't integrated into their strike plans yet.

"You're guarding the ship." Hunter disclosed shortly, leading his bike and the other soldiers with theirs down the ramp.

Talla questioned her above average hearing for a moment. "What?"

"Did I stutter?" Hunter snapped back over his shoulder.

Her eyes turned to slits under her helmet at the insult. "You can't be serious." She was fully geared up and eager for some action, and he wanted her to stay with the ship?! 'That is such a rookie's job, not for a soldier of my caliber! And I really wanted to see the jungle - I've never seen a jungle!!!'

His descent was abruptly stopped, and the rest of the Bad Batch boys stepped aside so they wouldn't be caught in the crossfire when Hunter released the handlebars of his bike from his vice like grip and slowly whirled back towards her. "Are you going to add questioning direct orders to your list of incompetent behavior?" He challenged in a dangerous tone. "You're staying with the ship, and it's not up for discussion." He wasn't going to wait for a reply and made to grip his speeder again, but then remembered that Talla had the ability to find the base later on if she got defiant, and promptly whirled on her again, "And don't even think about coming after us, do I make myself clear, soldier?"

Forget being intimidated, Talla's hands turned to fists at her sides and she pressed her tongue against her inner cheek. 'This is unfair treatment! I was thinking about the health of my friends when I didn't say anything about the mission!' Though they both wore helmets there was a heated staring contest between the Sergeant and Agent. Hunter dared her to speak against his order, and boy did Talla want to.

Except Rex's words echoed in her mind, 'Remember to be patient with them... They're not angry with you, they're angry at what happened,' And she knew Hunter wasn't thinking clearly right now. Though, he never seemed to be able to think clearly around her in the first place.

What up with that, anyways?

It took a deep breath through her nose and releasing it several seconds later through her mouth in an act of cruel defeat before she trusted her voice would not be shaky with fear or white-hot anger. She was feeling both, and it was not a very fun sensation combo. "Sir, yes sir." Talla reluctantly conceded. She turned sharply on her heel and stalked back into the ship, jabbing the control panel on the way in to close the ramp.

Even her nemesis had to admit, this was kinda messed up. But neither Crosshair nor his other two brothers felt the courage to stand up to Hunter, even if he was being irrational... because he was being irrational. No telling how he'd react to orders being disobeyed right now, even if it was their squad's forte.

Taking off her helmet, Talla blew a raspberry. It was going to be a long, boring few hours, or however long it would take for the team to infiltrate that rebel base and retrieve the leader. 'It could be DAYS!!!' The only thing she could do was meander into the cockpit, flop down in the pilot's chair and flick on the sensors to survey the ships surroundings in case of intruders.

That was the only requirement for the job 'Guarding the ship.' And it was boring as kriff. For two hours she idly turning her chair back and forth in all-consuming boredom, the only 'exciting' thing that happened was the slight pitter patter of an on again off again light deluge.

"OoOoOoo, a rain shower." She observed dryly. "Time to break out the blaster cannons and rocket launchers."

Since joining the squad, Talla had wanted nothing more than to be friends with Hunter and be a friend FOR him ever since 99 died. But that didn't mean right now, in this moment, when his treatment while understandable yet at the same time completely uncalled for, that didn't mean she was above hoping his blacks would get soaked underneath his armor and for the whole duration of the mission he'd be dealing with a sick case of chafing, which would be more irritating for him than with anyone else.

But as soon as the mean thought came, she dismissed it.

Kept coming back though.

Fortunately for the Agent, a comm alert came in on the projector Tech had taught her how to install on her wrist commlink.

With furrowed eyebrows she answered it and was extremely happy to see her padawan friend appear! "Ahsoka!" Talla exclaimed in excitement, perking up immediately.

Sitting cross-legged on her end, Ahsoka greeted Talla with a smile mirroring her excitement, "Hey, Talla! Sorry it's taken me so long to get a hold of you, but between Commander and Jedi duties, I really don't have much spare time. I got a couple of hours to relax before I meet up with my master though."

"Don't worry about it!" Talla reassured her. "You've called at exactly the right time! I thought I was going to be bored out of my mind this entire mission."

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

⏱️(Some More Hours Later, probably a whole day... or maybe just a couple of hours... boredom makes you lose track of time)⏱️

✍🏻(Side note: It was roughly thirty-eight hours, give or take)✍🏻

Conversation flowed easily between the young Jedi and Clone Agent, but eventually the comms were jammed, no doubt by the insurgents, so Talla was left to her own devices. Hunter had given her a direct order to stay with the ship, so she had no way of knowing their progress, what their status was in general! Or even the capability of communicating with anyone else to entertain her!

During their celebration lunch on Kamino, Fives had told her about his squad's first assignment guarding the Rishi Moon Outpost, and now she finally understood the boredom his squad experienced. And Talla knew that taking out this base could take days or possibly even longer, so that doubled her frustrations at being left to carry out this boring task.

When the sensor on the console came to life, signaling the boys had FINALLY RETURNED, she didn't need wings to fly across the ship and meet them.

Except, Talla was expecting them to bring back an extra passenger, the rebellions leader who turned out to be a orange twi'lek lady. Her unconscious figure was slung over Wrecker's shoulder like a sack of Kinyenian potatoes, hands in binders and mouth gagged. But Talla was not expecting Tech's face to be twisted in pain and pale as a ghost, and him holding onto Crosshair as if his life depended on it.

"What happened?!" She questioned anxiously as the wounded soldier and his human crutch slowly made their way up the ramp. They had appeared to walk the whole twenty kilometers back, the speeder bikes nowhere in sight!

"I sustained a blaster bolt to my left thigh." Tech informed Talla, transferred from Crosshair to the second medic of the squad, relieving the Sniper who had been forced to be the human crutch the whole journey because Hunter refused to go anywhere near Tech.

Talla murmured an encouraging 'I gotcha, buddy!' when Tech dangerously swayed, almost faceplanting if she had not caught him, and his arm was swung over her shoulder.

The brainy clone with sarcastic tendencies still stated his observation of the alleged dangerous insurgents, albeit with gritted teeth. "I do not know how this rebellion has managed to amass its power over the planet, Talla. Those so-called 'soldiers' of theirs cannot shoot worth a damn - pardon my foul language."

"Pft, if anyone's earned the right to use foul language, it's you." Talla humored him, wanting to distract him from the pain since he had to limp alongside her to medbay when all he wanted to do was collapse. With all that happened on Kamino, Tech had forgotten to bring his medpac, so he had walked the twenty kilometers back to the ship with nothing to ease the pain. He was the trooper of troopers.

Hunter hadn't taken off his helmet to hide the pained expression on his face, silently trailed behind the groups progression into the ship. He wordlessly made his way into the cockpit with a crushing guilt plaguing him on top of everything else. Because of his brothers' visible frustrations with the Stupid Sergeant, they didn't stop him from making the unilateral decision to pilot them off to Coruscant to drop off the twi'lek.

But Talla did send a worried glance in the Stupid Sergeants direction before heaving Tech through the door into the medbay, gently depositing him onto the edge of the hospital bed. "Let's get you fixed up." She said softly.

Crosshair handed her the stimpak to administer painkillers via injection because that was one thing he still could not do despite his tattoo milestone a short while back. It made him want to puke just looking at the sharp medical instrument that had been used against him for evil once upon a time. Talla though, she had been trained to be a level-headed medic on top of everything else, so it didn't affect her as much.

"Make it a double, please." Tech winced when the needle briefly pierced his leg, even though he knew that couldn't be done with a maximum dose. Worth a shot though. Heh. 

"Can't do that, soldier." Talla gave Crosshair back the medical tool to disinfect, and she put a comforting hand on Tech's shoulder, "But you'll definitely be feeling a lot better soon, I promise."

His sigh of appreciation at the coming relief was followed by Talla helping the injured soldier to rest against the back of the raised bed, so he was in a comfortable sitting position while she worked, and Crosshair would be on standby if assistance was needed. She took off Tech's armor with the Snipers help. And was given a play by play from Tech that helped the wounded soldier remain calm during the treatment process - cleaning, applying bacta gel, and then bandaging the blaster wound.

The mission was in theory pretty simple for this squadron at least: sneak into the base, capture the leader, then use her as leverage to get everyone to surrender.

Well, they had managed to sneak into the base without alerting anyone, but the target ended up setting off the intruder alarms before they stunned her, which created absolute chaos. The insurgents may have been an incompetent group of idiots when it came to blasters, but the boys found out that people who couldn't shoot straight were still as dangerous as droids who couldn't shoot straight, and they unfortunately were smart enough to blow up the boys' speeder bikes so they couldn't make a hasty escape. And it appeared that since their leader was weak enough to be captured, no one cared if she got caught in the crossfire. The new objective for the traitors ended up being: 'Whoever takes out these guys, gets to be the new leader!'

There was so much wayward blaster fire, so much unpredictable explosions in the randomest places, and a large body count by the end. Thankfully, none of the Bad Batch boys were included in that number, but there were no survivors to be taken prisoner.

"We could've used the backup." Crosshair, now sitting at the foot of the bed, summed up after Tech's long and detailed rant. "You could have sniped out a clear path for us from above since apparently 'we needed all hands on deck to lock down the base.'" The annoyance at Hunter's bad call was evident, and Talla didn't need to be looking up at him to know he had rolled his eyes while stating this. While they did like suicide missions, if there was a way to prevent someone getting injured, they took it.

Shaking her head regretfully, Talla wished she had been there, not even able to care that this was the first time Crosshair sort of admitted she was useful, and he wanted her there. And she also wasn't able to be giddy on how well they had worked together treating Tech. 'We'd be a formidable team if he just allowed it -' She sighed. "I'm just thankful that the mission was a success." The bandage was secured around Tech's thigh, "Sort of." The painkillers had kicked in long ago, and his rigid shoulders slumping Tech let out another breath of relief because finally, he was allowed to relax his battered and bruised body against the mattress, the exhaustion from the last eventful day and a half settling in.

"Yeah, no thanks to Hunter." Wrecker growled in response to Talla's optimistic outlook, having joined the party after locking up the twi-lek in the small, ray-shielded prison cell within the cargo hold - a cool feature of their ship they had discovered a few days ago.

A part of Talla agreed with Wrecker, but she defended the Stupid Sergeant anyways. Raising a hand she went, "Look, cut him some slack -"

"'Cut him some slack?'" Crosshair furiously drew her attention back to his injured brother whom Wrecker was draping a blanket over. "If he hadn't been so pigheaded -!"

"Hunter has taken 99's death just as, if not more badly than you guys." Talla revealed. The concern she received for Hunter's well-being was underwhelming. It was understandable. 

"He seemed fine to me." Was Wrecker's opinion, stepping away from the bed and crossing his arms angrily. Crosshair gave a curt nod in agreement. Tech also nodded but it was feeble, the urge to sleep overwhelming.

"It's an act." Talla claimed firmly, "He's been trying to be strong for you guys, but he's not eating or sleeping and drowning himself in work and everyone's chores and it's taken its toll." The boy's shared conflicted look but Talla actually made for the door. "I'm gonna go talk to him."

Despite his tiredness, Tech snapped his eyes open and his upper body up from his restful position. "Are you sure that's wise?" She turned back to him questionably. "He may be experiencing extreme emotional turmoil now due to my being injured and might have another outburst, which he has been prone to since you joined the squad." It drove him nuts that he couldn't figure out why.

"He deserves comfort." Talla insisted, not having any other answer for him on that last part. "Maybe he's at a point now where he'll finally accept it."

Yet another thing she or anyone wasn't expecting was Crosshair to physically stop her with a fast hand on her shoulder. "Do you have a death wish?"

She faced the concerned man sitting on the edge of the bed with shock, and did think about his question for a sec. "Hunter did say I needed one to fit in with you guys."

This was meant to be a lighthearted joke, but Crosshair didn't show any signs of being amused. "If you go in there right now, when he's this agitated, there's no telling what he'll say." He removed his restraining hand to cross his arms, spelling this out. "If you start babbling about 'the healing process' and all that crap, he's going to blow up again." Unable to help himself, he slyly remarked to Wrecker, "Personally, I didn't know so much rage could fit in such a small creature, did you?"

"Hey, he's got nothin' on Talla!" Wrecker laughed.

Crosshair snickered, Tech was passed out so he couldn't, but Talla's short laugh on the other hand was not because she was amused at the shade thrown on her and Hunter's so-called 'vertical challenges.' Her and Hunter were the average heights of their species and gender! Her laugh was more of the bitter variety because the warning offered by Crosshair was ironic coming from him. "I doubt Hunter would tell me to go kark myself, or that I'm a worthless failed experiment that belongs in a tube, wasting precious space till the end of time."

Crosshair's eyes flashed with an emotion at this verbal jab, but she didn't get her hopes up that it was guilt. "Then let me rephrase - do you want to be sent back to Kamino? To Nala Se?"

The Clone Agent suppressed a shudder at the mention of the experiments and the evil scientist behind them. "Hunter promised me that he'd never bring up the deal ever again."

"That was two weeks ago." Crosshair claimed shortly. "And I don't fancy another visit to Kamino if you push him over the edge."

'Ah, there it was.' Mirthlessly smiling, Talla said, "So, this intervention isn't because your concerned about my feelings?" This was a stark contrast to his sentiment earlier, when he wished she was there with them at the base.

"Why should I care if he hurt your delicate little feelings?" Crosshair coldly confirmed his insensitivity. 

...

"Oh. My. Skies!" Talla was so close to giving him and Tech matching blaster wounds! "You have more mood swings than a woman on her period!" She whipped 45 degrees to Tech, who jerked awake with a snort when she yelled, "Do men get them too and I was not made aware of it?! And do they last for weeks on end instead of just one?!"

For the first time in forever, Crosshair was faced with an insult he couldn't understand. "What the hell is a 'period?'"

"Yeah, what does that mean?" Wrecker also asked, wanting to understand the punchline.

Talla scoffed, and lowered her elevated hands. "Well, that answers my question."

Crosshair and Wrecker may not have known what a period was, but Tech in fact did. But he was too out of it to explain it to them right now, and was thankful her question was inadvertently answered. Shifting his blanket more securely around himself, the brainiac hoped they'd also inadvertently get the hint to respectfully kark off so he could sleep in peace.

Crosshair did get the hint. "Bottom line, Hunter's not thinking clearly - leave him alone so we don't have to make your death look like an accident." He threw a conceited smirk Talla's way when passing her on the way out. "And trust me, we can." Crosshair made sure to say, to further cement the fact that he still thought of her as easily expendable.

The stubborn side of Talla wanted to argue with the Sniper.

The rational side though knew he was right... about Hunter being too agitated right now, that is.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

⏱️(LATER THAT NIGHT)⏱️

They were right, Hunter was having one of the lowest points of his short life. And how he was lashing out towards everyone, Talla specifically, it was not making him feel any better about himself.

It had proven hard enough being around Talla before 99's death but adding in that awful factor just made him lose what little control he had on his emotions. Hunter expected her to dish it right back to him, and you know what he wasn't wholly opposed to the idea. If anyone deserved to be yelled at it was him. While it was wrong to withhold important information like this, Talla didn't do it out of mutiny... she did it to look out for him. 

Sitting in the dim computer room, hunched in his seat and massaging his throbbing temple, Hunter tried processing this strange phenomenon with his mush for brains that prevented him from typing up the kriffing mission report.

In battle, Hunter knew he could count on his team to have his back. And if he was physically injured they'd look after him, made sure he had everything he needed. But during the dark days, those first few months after their liberation from Kamino, Hunter more helped Tech in helping his brothers to try and alleviate the symptoms of their issues than actually receiving help himself. Sure, Hunter filed some of those skills away, but actually being supported as opposed to being the supporter was a boundary not crossed. Hunter was Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker's big brother, but also their leader. He had to be strong for them. He couldn't let them see their leader weak. Not to mention, with that complicated brother/business relationship they could also lose respect for him, which would ruin the dynamic of the team. They wouldn't trust his decisions anymore!

This pattern thinking that distressed him was, admittedly, self-inflicted with zero facts to back it up, but that was beside the point. The point was, Talla pushed aside that imaginary boundary and actually tried to support him, and he had less than kindly rebuffed her. And Hunter had no idea how he was going to make it up to her.

All his grief, all his mistakes, it all culminated in this moment, and when Talla passed by the room without any plans on disturbing him, her ears picked up the inaudible sound of a slight sniffle. And her compassion demanded she check up on him.

Sergeant Hunter wasn't full on crying. Only a single tear was reluctantly allowed to escape when his eyes squeezed shut, even though he trying to prevent any from falling at all. Crying was not something he did. Hell, showing emotions in general was not something he did. But this tiny shred of evidence that proved he was suffering was enough for Talla to declare it was time for an intervention, and she cautiously stepped through the doorway and announced her presence by softly saying his name.

Talla figured he would know she was there before even saying a word, but his startled jump proved otherwise. He didn't even turn his chair around to address her face to face, choosing to pointedly focus his attention on the abandoned monitor screen, discreetly wiping away that damned fallen tear, and before she could murmur an apology the emotionless mask was put up in record speed. "What do you want?" Old habits die hard, and this question was asked harshly as opposed to nicely. He didn't mean to, but being caught almost crying by her, Hunter couldn't help it. Why, of all people living inside this ship, did it have to be her who stumbled upon his moment of weakness? Again, he asked himself: 'Why has the Force forsaken me?' 

Resilient Talla proved to be a trooper against his temper and strayed closer. "Are you alright -"

"I'm fine." Didn't mean he liked that resilience.

This would all be comforting to a normal person, but Hunter was not normal, and it only made him all the more unnerved. He would have preferred the yelling instead of talking about what she no doubt saw. When Talla tried negating the claim that he was fine, Hunter flipped the lid for the hundredth time since she came into his life. "Just leave it alone, Talla!" He snapped over his shoulder.

He expected, he hoped for yelling, but instead Hunter got his wish. Talla meekly left without saying another word.

And that only made him feel ten times worse than what he was feeling before. 'Mother of moons, how can that even be possible?!' An apology was in order, Hunter knew that right off the bat. But how could he apologize without actually talking about what she saw?

This dilemma is what caused him to delay an excruciating five minutes before following her trail. Talla was in the kitchen, that being her original destination when she was forced to leave her cozy bed at the ungodly hour of 2am due to a nightmare. Her favorite snack, blue macarons, had proven to always make things better.

Except he didn't find her stuffing her face full of those strangely colored cookies. Instead, once Hunter stepped into the kitchenette, a mug of something warm was held out to him before any apologies spilled from his mouth. "Drink this." Talla commanded with a no-nonsense frown.

There were some suspicions. Not that Hunter didn't trust Talla, he just didn't trust Angry Talla. Though she didn't even look remotely angry. "Is this poisoned?" He asked suspiciously before accepting the kind gesture that was in no way deserved. It certainly smelled like that calming Jeru tea Tech bought a stash of, but that didn't mean Talla couldn't slip something a little ☠️LETHAL☠️ into it. Hunter may have earned an angry outburst, but he didn't want to die just yet.

Talla got a sense of déjà vu that made her eyes roll. "That's the second time someone's asked me that. Do I really look like the type of person who would poison someone who upset her?"

If she had been asked this not once but twice, then it was obviously a possibility they didn't put past Talla. Hunter didn't say that of course. "Guess not." He wisely muttered, uneasily accepting the steaming beverage. But his paranoia forced him to make sure and he shoved the mug towards her lips. "You take a sip first." Hunter instructed, eyes squinted.

Another roll of the eyes, but Talla placed her hands over his on the mug and she did just that, and Hunter tried not to react to the sparks that were always present when they touched. When she didn't drop dead after swallowing the small gulp of sweet tea, her dramatic response included slight jazz hands and a mocking smile. "See? Not poisoned!" Now, she could very well have the antidote in the pocket of her sweatpants or even taken it beforehand, but that seemed a little too paranoid. "Come on, I'm more of a slice 'em and dice 'em type when it comes to my victims, Hunter." Talla reassured him when he still hesitated. But it wasn't reassuring at all because A) it was concerning she even had a preference on how to kill in the first place, and B) there just so happened to be a discarded knife on the edge of the sink. Talla noticed the flick of his anxious eyes towards the eating utensil and actually found humor in it. "Don't worry, I'm not mad at you." She chuckled.

Talla was full of surprises.

"You're not?" Upon further inspection of her demeanor, Hunter couldn't believe that. There was a glint of something in her eyes he didn't think he was going to like.

And he was right. "I'm a wee bit miffed about all the yelling and snapping and hissy fits," Talla admitted without even a slight rise in blood pressure, "But that's okay, because I have made the unilateral decision to stage an intervention." His heart sank when she aised her chin with the authority of a senator or even a queen, "And it's taking place whether you like it or not."

"And I'm out." Hunter stubbornly declared, making a beeline to the door, "Goodnight."

Except Talla was faster in blocking his exit. Haughtily crossing her arms, she gave the disgruntled man a look that said, 'I dare you to try and pass me.'

Not a problem, right? He could just squeeze past her.

💥💪🏻

Nope, now an arm possessing inhuman strength was blocking his way.

That's alright, he could duck under it and be free!

🦵🏻💥

Nope, now blocking his exit was a leg with that same freakish capability he was starting to find annoying.

And Hunter knew he couldn't shove the strength enhanced clone out of the way even if he wasn't weak from starvation and exhaustion.

The human roadblock didn't pretend his sigh of bitter defeat wasn't music to her ears, "Just so you know, I'm not letting you leave until you hear what I have to say."  She declared with a victorious smirk. 

"Tal, I don't want to talk about this."

"Too bad!"

His pleas were futile. He should just accept that exasperation came with the territory of knowing this Special Agent Clone. Maybe it'd make things easier. Letting out a sharp breath through his nose, Hunter began counting to ten. "What happened to that whole 'compassion' thing, huh?"

Talla unsympathetically shrugged with her arm that wasn't busy restricting him, "It wasn't working, so like with Crosshair's bitchy tendencies I had to adapt, and I've decided to, ironically, take a page from Crosshair's behavioral profile and will for the next five minutes be severe and unyielding, and after that you can do whatever the hell you want, but I hope my words will have a positive impact on your mental and emotional health."

'Force, she sounds like a kriffing medical journal!' And Hunter had never in his life been in the mood for those.

But she didn't exactly give him a choice. "You said we're friends and what I've learned about friendship is that if your friend is acting stupid, you either join them so they don't do the stupid thing alone, or you help them stop doing the stupid thing altogether, and since your being stupid is making you unhinged and having catastrophic consequences on the safety of the squad, then I'm forced to stop doing the first and will now be doing the second." Now he understood that glint in her eyes he didn't like - it was the spark of unrelenting determination. "So, you're going to shut up and listen to me because there's no way you can pry me out of this doorway."

There was still one more thing Hunter could try. He copied her authoritative raise of the chin and tone of voice. "As the Sergeant, I order you to let me leave."

The challenging raise of the brow in return did not bode well for him. "Really? You wanna play that card?" His resolve only faltered but didn't break, so Talla gave a dangerous bark of a laugh. "You told me that dynamic is only needed on the battlefield, but if you want to play by those terms, fine!" She tossed her head and gave a sassy flick of her hair, "As one of two professionally trained medics in this squad, when it comes to health crisis of any type, I technically outrank you 'Sarge.'"

It was not fair a someone five(ish) inches shorter and roughly two-thirds Hunter's size could successfully stand in his way between him and the safe haven that was his room where he could be miserable in peace.

His beautiful human roadblock didn't join in on his brooding. Talla made herself right at home by raising and perched herself more comfortably in his exit to freedom, back and feet supporting her weight on opposite sides of the doorjam, and for extra flair she even comically crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands in her lap, as if they were having a completely normal discussion under normal circumstances. "First off, I'm not forcing you to talk about your feelings, I know talking isn't your thing, so I'm going to talk and you're going to shut up and listen."

Knowing he'd be here a while, against his will mind you, Hunter made himself also 'comfortable' by casually leaning against the wall that allowed him to face her, sipping his tea since there was nothing else he could do, all the while counting to ten and beyond to keep his sanity in check.

"Now, I understand you're trying to be strong for your brothers, but wearing yourself down to the ground to distract yourself from your own grief is not a healthy way to cope, Hunter.

"One healthy way to cope is by opening up to someone your close with which ideally would be your own brothers, but we've just established that talking even with them is not your thing, though they're the only ones in the universe who can understand every single thing you're going through -" A sideways warning glance came at him, "Feel free to explain why you won't by the way, otherwise you're going to hear a whole 'nother prepared rant about every single thing I've learned about family through observing yours."

This school of thought, Hunter finally did reveal to someone because there were no words to describe how much he didn't want to hear TWO RANTS AT THE UNGODLY HOUR OF 2AM IN THE MORNING! He was barely even processing to this one, counting all the way to 43 not helping him feel any less calmer. "I'm the leader of this squad, Talla." He said, really thinking that would be enough of an explanation.

"... And?"

But apparently, the smartest woman in the galaxy needed it spelled out for her. 🙄 Force, he just wanted this torture to end! He hadn't talked about his issues since...

... he had never talked about his issues. As a cadet to 99 yeah, but never during his career as a Sergeant, not even with 99. Once he was required to take on the leadership role he was groomed for, Hunter kept everything bottled up to make sure no one questioned his decisions. Hunter was completely out of his comfort zone, and found the mug of dark tea in his hands something easier to focus on then her keen eyes that seemed to look right through him. "... I'm expected to be strong for everyone, so if I allow myself to be show weakness, the soldiers under my authority will lose respect for me."

There was a tense pause as she processed this spilling of his guts. There was a slow nod that said she acknowledged his confession. Then came the severe and unyielding part, but unlike Crosshair it wasn't to tear him down, instead to build him up. "That protocol is understandable within a normal squadron of troopers, but you guys aren't 'normal,' are you? You pride yourself in not being normal, so those normal standards between a leader and their subordinates don't really apply here, do they?"

Blankly blinking, Hunter couldn't decide if he was annoyed that Talla was contradicting his self-inflicted torment with straight facts to end it, because then he'd have no real excuse to keep things bottled up anymore. On the flipside, the self-inflicted torture would be over, and maybe his mental and emotional state could benefit from her rant. Then came the annoyance again because Hunter didn't want her to have the satisfaction of being right.

This conversation had him on a worse emotional rollercoaster then what he suffered since 99 died!

And she wasn't finished, but it turned out to not necessarily be a bad thing. "The others were annoyed at what happened, but it stopped when I explained what was going on with you." His head snapped to display his surprise. "That guarantees they haven't lost their respect, don't you think?" She waved her finher, "And, just to further squash that pattern of thinking, I, someone not a member of your family, has watched you unravel from the second the news about 99 was broken to you, endured your emotional outbursts and fixed your critical mistakes, yet I can honestly say you haven't lost a measure of my respect."

That family comment didn't sit well with him, but that was another battle for another time. He focused his attention on her saying she hadn't lost even a little bit of respect... something he didn't even know he had in the first place. "Why?" He truly wondered. After all he had put her through, Hunter couldn't think up of a single reason why she'd still think well of him. I mean, obviously she didn't feel like a part of their family yet, even though they'd already been through two battles together, and suffered death, near-death, trauma - Hell, she was a full-fledged member of the Bad Batch family in his book.

"I know you're not heartless."

'All of my behavior points to the contrary.'

"Yeah, you don't like to show it, but you're attentive and selfless and considerate, except right now your wounded. If I don't think badly of Tech healing from his injury, I think it should be the same with you - you told me Nala Se gave us mental wounds, so I don't think badly of you and the ones you've received. On top of that, you just lost a loved one in the middle of another huge change in your life - me joining the team - so you're dealing with a transitional period and grief at the exact same time. But I see the whole person you are, Hunter, not just the struggles."

This was something she must have put together during those many hours wondering why they kept Crosshair around. It was how she discovered there must be more to him then what she'd been exposed to. 

The purposely forgotten compassionate manner came back because Talla felt she had doled out enough 'tough love,' and preferred not resembling the cold and heartless Nala Se, and listed examples of his good qualities his self-loathing had buried deep. "So this is who you are to me - you're the man who came back to rescue me on Silva instead of letting me die from my own rash decision to maintain the 100% success rate; I'm told you didn't leave my side when I was recovering in the hospital; and you've been there for me when I needed someone to talk to despite your anti-social tendencies, and I'm sure your brothers can back me up on this if you let them."

Hunter briefly wondered why she didn't use this gracious reasoning when it came to Crosshair, but she probably did except the Sniper had made sure there was next to no evidence whatsoever that he actually had a heart. Hunter, apparently, had provided some evidence.

Talla's voice brought him back to the present, having yet again not finished. "And while I don't quite know all there is with how the galaxy works, I don't think it's right to think that just because you're the leader, you're not allowed to feel, or receive comfort if you need it from your family or friends." Hunter had lost count at how many times his own words were thrown back at his face, and he seriously considered putting the kibosh on trying to talk to people altogether if it just meant it'd be used against him later. "You told me once that even though we're bred for war, we're still human, so it's a completely normal human thing that you're experiencing grief, and you deserve comfort just as much as Tech or Wrecker or even Crosshair does."

Hunter was definitely not used to showing his vulnerable side anymore, and his unease showed itself by a shift of his feet and fleeting eye contact, which Talla picked up on, and gave him a smile that hopefully told him he shouldn't be ashamed or embarrassed because she was not putting him down for feeling feelings. "If you still don't want your brothers to see you at your lowest moments because of the imaginary risk you'll lose their respect, then I just want you to know that I'm here for you. And my respect won't go away unless you, I don't know, kick a tooka kitten or something." She joked, and it succeeded in earning a short half-hearted chuckle from the self-conscious man, "I'll already know when it's bad time for you, so you may as well accept my support, and we don't even have to talk! There's a plethora of other things we can do that could help you feel better."

By now, Hunter figured even if he rebuffed her again, Dr. Talla would still be his shadow if he was feeling down because what he was doing before wasn't helping at all, so he might as well know what he'd be up against and prepare himself for the inevitable. "Like what?" He queried softly.

Hope bloomed within her. "Basically, we can just do something, anything together so that you're not alone for those really low moments, because if there's one thing I do understand about your situation, Hunter, is that it's not fun being alone when you're struggling." That was a valid claim. Talla was all alone down there in the Kaminoan Labs, with zero support or even a person to share in her pain, unlike him.

This is what finally made him agree to her intervention. "Alright, I'll bite - what do you suggest would help, Doctor?"

How it was possible for her to be even more perky than she already was, in the middle of the night of all times, Hunter would never know. But hearing him sort of, kind of agree to her support, it sent her all the way to cloud nine! "If we're docked somewhere, we can... We can go for a walk! Or we can watch holovids at a volume we choose!" Talla gasped in excitement when a truly amazing idea came to her, and she couldn't stop her hand from hitting his shoulder a couple of times in excitement. "Oh! We can even spar! I bet you'd be great with a vibrosword!"

There would probably be a hand-shaped bruise on his shoulder by morning, but Hunter had to be honest - none of those ideas sounded terrible. At least he didn't have to sit in a circle and talk about his feelings. For the first time in a long time, Hunter gave a faint smile, his grief and guilt continuing to weigh heavily on him, but it was still a genuine, small smile. Hunter's eyes revealed the depth of his sincerity at her offering this kindness in spite of the crap he put her through. "You're something else." He again softly breathed.

Her heart gave a wierd, happy little flutter. "If that is your way of saying 'I'm Sorry' and 'Thank You,' then you're forgiven and you're welcome." Talla simpered. 

It was indeed both, but in addition it was also Hunter admitting to himself that he had to be cursed or something. His luck had run out, or the Force was working against him, or karma was indeed a bitch, either way one or two or all of these had to be responsible for his misfortunes.

His friend, his beautiful lady friend who was woefully also a soldier in his squadron, the one he had told himself repeatedly was -

🚫❌❗OFF LIMITS❗❌🚫

- not only did he find her attractive, but she also had proven to have a great personality and a heart of kyber as well, regardless of all the extenuating circumstances in her life trying to prove otherwise.

*cough* 'Crosshair, the prickly stringbean' *cough cough*

There was no denying it. Sergeant Hunter was attracted to, and in danger of falling hard for Special Agent Talla.

He was in trouble.

And he was not kidding, Hunter swore his heart fluttered and sank at the same time with this realization. And no, he was not going to ask Tech if that was even scientifically possible.

Having said everything that needed to be said, Talla declared this intervention over, and since her hand was still on his shoulder it was used as an aid for keeping herself steady as she hopped down from her perch and kindly released Hunter from this hostage situation. 'Maybe that wasn't such a good idea,' She mentally grimaced, having to contort a little because to pop her back because it was very much abused, but she kept her smile on for Hunter, giving his shoulder a final squeeze before letting him go. "Now, I want you to get some sleep, got it soldier?"

Boy, it was strange being referred as that. "I can't." He promptly disobeyed, swiping his free hand down his tired face. All this crap going on was exhausting, and yet he still knew he wouldn't fall asleep. Physically and emotionally, he was spent, but mentally he was still running a marathon. "I gotta finish the kriffin' mission report."

💡Light bulb!💡

"Ooo, I'm great with reports!" Talla enthusiastically offered.

He blinked down at the woman barely able to contain her excitement. "Seriously? You want to tediously write down every single little, tiny itty-bitty detail about what happened on this mission, which includes informing them that four of our brand-new expensive speeders have already been destroyed?"

"Uh, yeah!" Talla told him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. "I love anything to do with organization, you should know that by now!"

True. "But you don't even know what happened because I - erm - you know -" He cleared his dry throat. 'Why did I even bring it up?' He mentally smacked his forehead over and over going: 'Stupid, Stupid, Stupid -!'

Thankfully, a dismissive hand was waved, saying 'Water Under the Bridge!' "I got a pretty detailed play-by-play from the others, but you can jump in to fill in any blanks if you want!"

Scoffing in bewilderment, Hunter was pleased nonetheless. "Then by all means - knock yourself out." He felt like he was using her, but the Sergeant loathed the one rule he couldn't break - submitting mission reports. 'If it makes her happy though, who am I to deny her that? Maker knows I've given her every reason to not be. And she wants to be helpful, and this was helpful. And it's not like they'll ever know the difference anyways.'

"Yes!" She cheered, and Hunter would have worried the others would be rudely awaken but let's face it - Tech and Wrecker could and did also sleep through hurricanes, just like Crosshair. The fact they had not gotten up during the whole duration of their not-so-quiet, one-sided discussion was proof of this.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

Talla was truthful in saying that she didn't poison the tea she gave Hunter... the first cup, that is.

That didn't mean she didn't with the second one he shyly requested before they start working.

It actually wasn't poisoned, per se! But Talla may have faked accidentally burning her finger on the scalding hot water poured into the mug. And she may have used that as an excuse to run into the medbay real quick to 'put some bacta gel on it.' And she may have used that lie as a cover to sneakily find the small vial of liquid melatonin, to which she'd slip a few tasteless drops into Hunter's tea when he wasn't looking.

That natural supplement did not work for Talla, but it could work for Hunter. And Hunter needed some sleep.

'It's for a noble cause.' Talla told herself when plucking the vile of sleep-inducing substance from the medicine cabinet.

'I'm not doing anything wrong.' Talla told herself when she administered four droplets into the tea with a shaky hand.

'I have a good case.' Talla told herself when giving the mug to the thankful Sergeant who had no idea whatsoever the Special Agent had medicinally laced his tea.

And sitting next to him, Talla mentally repeated these anxious mantras over and over and over again as Hunter drained that second cup. She had to keep her legs cross-legged so they wouldn't shake and typing up the mission report with his datapad, she tried so hard to not act suspicious.

Hunter discovered he liked this tea even though it was sweet and syrup-like in texture. Maybe it was the calming effect of the blend and overall soothing nature of a warm beverage that didn't have caffeine, which would heighten his already enhanced senses. Hunter felt so calm and relaxed even that he started nodding off halfway through Talla typing up the report.

Next thing he knew, there was an angelic voice urging him to not fight the sleepiness, and a gentle push coaxed him to lay down. Hunter had no idea how or when he ended up back in his room and now his bed, or when he took off his bandana, but he laid his heavy head against his comfy pillow, and he pulled his comforter (that also magically appeared) securely around his otherwise limp body. The last thing the worn-out Sarge remembered was the brush of something soft against his cheek before he experienced the first good night's sleep he's had since 99 died.

In reality, he was still in the common area and ended up passing out on the couch because the melatonin Talla dosed him with shockingly worked. It was Talla who removed his bandana when she saw him nodding off, and Talla brought his pillow and comforter out from his room, so he'd have the perfect recipe for a good night's sleep, and it was Talla who coaxed him to lay down on the couch and not fight the sleepiness.

All guilt she had for 'poisoning him' faded into the background when seeing how peaceful he looked, even if it was because of the 'drugging.' And she couldn't help but brush the back of her hand against her friend's cheek in what was hopefully a soothing and totally not creepy way, sadly noting the stubble because he had been too out of it to shave properly like he always did, and along those sad lines she noted the enormous dark circles under his eyes from going on five days without a proper night's sleep, which with feather like strokes she brushed with her thumb and sighed regretfully.

Talla's heart ached for him and for his brothers for what they were going through, even if she didn't fully understand the situation. The side effects of it were depressing to watch. 

Returning to her seat in the corner of the shared couch, she finished the report while watching over Hunter to make sure he slept peacefully. Talla could only pray he would not put two and two together on what happened upon waking up, which would ruin the elation over the huge milestone the pair had reached in their friendship - the trust that they could be vulnerable around each other went both ways now.

The fellow brainiac couldn't exactly calculate which would be a more probable reaction to being served laced tea that made Hunter sleep against his will:

1.) Thankfulness because by the Moons of Gozgo he finally got some much-needed damn sleep!

... Or 2.) Righteous rage and loss of newfound trust because she forced him to get some much-needed damn sleep.

Yeah, Talla really didn't want to find out the results.

But even with that stress and the figurative dark cloud casting a gloomy shadow over everything because of poor 99, that new trust specifically between her and Hunter made her strangely giddy. The butterflies in Talla's tummy were through the roof! Sure, Tech and Wrecker also felt comfortable enough to be sad and depressed around her... with Hunter though it felt different.

Maybe it was because he wasn't open with anyone else, and it was her exclusively who he opened up to. Talla didn't give him a choice really, but he had agreed to doing activities together when he was down when he could have said no and gone to his brothers. That meant Hunter was okay spending time together without his brothers around and right now he trusted her more with his vulnerabilities than them, which also sent another kaleidoscope of butterflies through her system. She also felt like throwing up. And her heart palpitations were no joke. And she wanted to reach out and express affection again, to see him smile at her. 

'What is happening?!' 

Shaking her head to clear it of these anxieties, Talla just hoped her help would indeed help Hunter feel less wound up and alone and depressed, something he did for her that no one else in this squad had the capability to do altogether.

Sure, Tech loved to talk so she was never lacking for intellectual conversation at least; Wrecker was always ready to try cheering her up when she was down with a joke, a hug, or binge-watching their favorite holodrama; Crosshair was just one of her two major stressors since leaving Kamino.

Hunter though, she could talk to about anything and everything that came to her mind, heavy or not, and he tried comforting her to the best of his abilities with his reserved nature and all, putting a hand on her shoulder or taking a stab at verbal reassurances and was also perfecting being a sincere listening ear. And he never let Talla go through anything alone after their reconciliation, trying to do anything to make her feel okay.

And it looked like the woman was going to be able to do the same for Hunter.

'Whoa - butterflies again!' 🦋😧🦋

Chapter Text

That blasted (but failed) Kamino invasion where beloved 99 died.

That disastrous (but successful) rebel base infiltration where Tech got shot.

Hunter (formerly) wanting to spill Talla's blood from Kamino to that rebel base.

It was a hellish week for the Bad Batch squadron.

So, while his brothers dropped off the rebellion leader at the Republic Military Base, Wrecker's feet had wings, so to speak, when he had another destination in mind: Nik's Parlor.

That's where his girlfriend-

(heh, even mopey he LOVED saying that)

- where his new girlfriend ran her side of the business from.

The sting over 99's death was still very much fresh, yet instead of wanting to continue hiding out, Wrecker now had hopes Skylar would offer physical affection like she tried on their first date... but this time he was open to accepting it. Maybe a hug could help put back together the shattered pieces of his heart, at the very least offer some relief. The weird butterflies in his tummy and hangover-like nausea would be a welcome sensation compared to the way his chest felt like it was being painfully crushed over and over again when he thought about 99's sacrifice, and how he couldn't even go the tiny funeral.

If nothing else, spending time with Skylar could give Wrecker a break from his grieving family. With everyone's emotions outta whack, even with Talla's help the batch of brothers kept getting on each other's nerves with their different coping mechanisms. It was probably to be expected, as death brought out the worst in people, Tech had so helpfully pointed out before Wrecker escaped. Talla happily tagged along with Wrecker, also needing a break, but at least her and Hunter had resolved their differences.

After that disaster for a first date, Skylar suggested brainstorming things the new couple could do together once he returned. Obviously, Wrecker was unable to think of ideas this time around, but maybe Skylar had! But he did try thinking on the fly while him and Talla took a speeder from the Marauder and through the districts leading to the Parlor. Skylar didn't mind his last spontaneous idea, so perhaps another would prove exciting and definitely end on brighter terms! It was their second unspecified chunk of time together, and he wanted it to be spent wisely but memorably. To create plenty of pleasant memories to sustain them both until the next time.

GEEZ though, it kinda almost still felt too good to be true for Wrecker - "I have a sweetheart, Talla!" Wrecker loudly marveled down at Talla, who briefly looked away from her flying to throw him a relieved smile over her shoulder at hearing him be something other than bereaved. "I have somethin' to look forward to after a mission, and it doesn't involve explosives!"

Many thought they'd never see the day.

Yet after parking, there was a moment Wrecker had to pause and draw in a huge breath, to give the needed strength to gather himself from the slouch up to his full height - this was reg-infested territory after all. Needed to show no weakness.

Wrecker felt Talla touch his arm. "You gonna be okay?"

He nodded once. The pause before the chaos, her constant compassion, the excitement at seeing Skylar, it gave him the needed strength to face reality. There'd no doubt be questions of concern from Skylar because Wrecker's special lady was just that compassionate too. And sweet. And thoughtful. The fact she wasn't mad after he ruined that first date proved this.

Stepping through the automatic doors, both soldier's eyes widened at seeing the Parlor was slammed today. It was hard enough as it was for the gentle giant to not bump into people or objects, so Wrecker suffered many toe-stepping, elbow blows to the stomach, and mean names before finally stumbling upon the back counter where Nik and Blair were checking people in and out of appointments, taking payments, and tersely offering discounts to angry customers.

Right away one thing was plainly obvious: there was no Skylar.

Catching sight of Talla, Nik's hands slammed against the counter and he exclaimed 'Oh thank the Maker you're here!' And he didn't take note of Wrecker asking where Skylar was, instead, the soldiers were beckoned to join the owners behind the counter to be protected from the mob.

Nik had to accept a chunk o' change from an impatient green-skinned twi'lek, the owner supplying an insincere 'Have a GREAT rest of the day,' before answering Wrecker taking a reluctant seat on a supply crate. "Sky didn't feel good this morning so she's at home in bed -"

Alarmed Wrecker shot up from the crate. "Wait what?! What's wrong with her?!"

A Pantoran with a big bundle of clothing stepped up and Nik had to raise a dismissive hand. "I will answer that question after the morning rush." And he pulled a nervous but determined Talla forward, "Now, you read that work manual I sent, right?"

"Three times over, yes." At that, she shakily accepted the small badge Nik gave her, bearing her name in a fun font.

So with no other choice, anxious Wrecker was forced to wait and skim through gossip columns and news articles on the provided datapad until the couple were done with the morning rush while simultaneously breaking Talla into the wonderful world of the part-time job she'd volunteered for.

Well, so far things were not starting as ideal as he'd envisioned.

'Force, please let Sky be okay... I can't lose someone else.'

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

It seemed Nik and Blair had rescheduled half of their tattoo and hair appointments for the day, but with their thrift shop still open many of their clients happily took advantage of the HUGE clothing sale provided for the HUGE inconvenience. As a result, the couple were running around like headless porgs in between checking clients in and doing little jobs at their stations with newly hired Talla dealing with the shopping patrons the best she could.

It was chaos.

Wrecker would've loved to help to speed things up which would also distract him from worrying, but the very thought of waiting on regs hand and foot made his blood boil, plus he had not been given the run down like Talla, whom upon being introduced to the appearance enhancing phenomenon last time they were here, had wanted to start helping out at the shop when they'd indubitably be spending more time docked here on Coruscant. It would give her something to do other than laze about waiting for the next mission and also work towards paying for the many appointments she planned to have, for the Agent refused to be given a discount for all the beautiful work they did and stylish clothes she wanted to collect.

An odd request, but far be it for the Tiima's to refuse help from a competent person, especially today, when their backup helpers had prior commitments.

When they could finally shoo away the last straggler in the shop, finally able to close for the lunch hour, the three workers collapsed on one of the waiting area couches, breathless and with growling tummies.

"You guys have to do that all day, every day?!" Talla panted at the Parlor's namesake to her right.

Who ran a hand over his face that was aching from the constant fake smiling. "Except most weekends, all Ryloth and Coruscant holidays, and when we're closed for cleaning or maintenance."

Tossing away the datapad, Wrecker barreled over from where he had been banished to, was at the edge of his seat wanting those answers now but no one seemed to notice, all kicking their feet up into the coffee table with a collective sigh and leaning back in their seats-

They startled when Wrecker burst out with: "Okay, so what's wrong with 'er?!" When too many seconds had passed, and he still had no answer to Skylar's dire condition.

They'd just gotten together - he wasn't ready to be a widower! Or whatever he'd qualify for as a guy who's only gone out on one date with a woman, but secretly pined after her for two years prior to that monumental event. He hated being a grieving little brother as it was.

Everyone had forgotten it was Wrecker who brought in the knight in shining beskar armor this stressful morning, and Nik calmly, finally replied, "Sky's gonna be fine, big guy, she's just on her period."

"Ouch, that's rough." Talla sympathized, and her resulting grimace increased Wrecker's anxiety. But Wrecker had no idea what this was, why he should be sympathetic about it.

"What's that? A virus?" Wrecker did notice Talla touch a hand to her lower belly, "Is it a bad stomach bug?" Tech had never spoken about a particular stomach bug known as a 'period' before... At least, he was sorta sure... Tech's blabs were always a blur-

"Her period." Nik reiterated, giving dumbly mute Wrecker a double take, "You don't -" Nik facepalmed, "Of course you don't, um -" Wrecker became porg-eyed in concern over his new lady friend's illness, so Nik snapped his arms out, "She'll be fine, don't worry!" The tattoo artist mentally had a brief crisis, wondering how he could give an entire anatomy lesson in two minutes because he needed to go shopping for Skylar since her period came a day early and they were not prepared -

Thankfully, his own lady friend had his back, "You know what, Wrecker, how 'bout I treat you to lunch at Dex's Diner, where we can talk about this more comfortably?" With endless supply of caf and pie to smooth over the ickiness that was the Menstruation Cycle. "And after, we can go pick up supplies for Sky!"

"Uuuhhhh..." Wrecker blinked. "Okay." He'd much rather go meet Skylar, but with the promise of being better equipped to see her apparently curable condition afterwards, Wrecker lumbered out of the shop, albeit vastly weirded out for he'd never spent time outside the shop with Blair or Nik before.

'The big guy' just wanted to see his new girlfriend after his cruddy week. But at least helping her out would be a nice distraction.

"You sure he's gonna be able to stomach a meal with you explaining all that to him?" Nik asked when Wrecker was out of ear shot - it was a normal bodily function, yes, yet he knew how his girlfriend was very adamant about that fact and didn't believe it should be sugar-coated.

"Hey, I'm not complaining if he'll be a cheap date." Blair joked, pecking her boyfriend's cheek and scampering after Wrecker, stupidly thinking he couldn't be so sheltered that he knew next-to-nothing about procreation - had HAD to know at least the basics of where babies came from at least, yes?

"Ya feel like hittin' 79's 'round the corner?" She heard Nik ask Talla.

Who comically replied: "Can I get a Coruscant Cooler?"

"Not while you're on the clock, love." Nik chuckled.

"Well, womp-rats... but they have good appetizers so let's do it."

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

Wrecker did not ever think he'd be one to have jumpy-leg when he was uneasy, like Tech, but here he was, sitting in a booth across his new girly-friends bestie and bouncing his leg like there was no tomorrow. He'd never really conversed with Blair before, even when his squadron visited the shop.

Talking to women was not a skill he was born with, unfortunately. The demolitions expert found them intimidating - why on earth would they talk to HIM - and he'd get all tongue-tied, a trait he shared with Hunter. Or the opposite would happen, and Wrecker would babble nonsense like Tech. At least he didn't insult anyone like Crosshair though, that had to count for something.

Yet, after claiming a back booth he could only brave a few glances at Blair when she made the initial small talk.

The table literally shaking and spilling their cups of water, Blair's hands thrust out towards his. "Relax!"

But he snatched them away - 'AIN'T NO WAY I'M GONNA CHEAT ON SKYLAR!'

Remarkably unperturbed, Blair continued smiling and waved over the nearby waitress. "Miss, can you bring us a pot if your strongest brew - my friend has a terrible headache."

"I don't have a headache." Wrecker denied with a scrunched forehead, the waitress zooming to the kitchen.

Puzzling him further, Blair huffed indignantly. "Oh trust me, you will after I bestow upon you my extensive knowledge on periods." Mimicking his folded hands, she cleared her throat. "Now Wrecker -"

"Is. Skylar. Gonna. Be. Okay??" He needed to finally be told yes or no to.

"Yes, sweetie, she's going to be fine." And Blair's smile softened at Wrecker's sincere concern - this man was already ten times better than 'he who should not be mentioned till Skylar was ready.'

Averting his eyes, Wrecker was a tad put off... and guilty... and confused by the term of endearment. To try remedying things, he put more distance between their hands. This was already way too weird.

'Force-Dangit, I just want to see Skylar! Maybe I can help out? I always take great care of Tech when he goes a few too many days without sleeping and needs help stumblin' to bed.'

Before Blair could begin her lesson, the questions poured out of Wrecker: "So, what's wrong with 'er? Can I help? Will a hug make it better? If it's contagious, I can wear my armor 'cause the helmet filters toxins!"

Again, she reached out, but he comically recoiled from Blair's touch, even clumsily buttoned up his shirt the rest of the way because he'd purposely left a few buttons unhooked - one thing he had figured out over the last two years was that Skylar did, in fact, like his muscles, and since he felt his face wasn't much to look at, Wrecker might've wanted to show off a little...

Blair laughed, "What is the matter with you?" When she also saw him shove back down his rolled-up sleeves for further modesty.

"Uh, I don't think this is allowed???" He shot back, eyes narrowed in accusation. "I have a girlfriend, Blair!"

"Uh, there's a big difference between me hitting on you and me offering comfort in the way I've noticed you prefer." Blair teased, and he looked down with a scrunched nose in confusion.

There was an awkward silence when the waitress returned, set down their pot of caf and two mugs, and handed them menus.

Wrecker was hungry as usual, but with more pressing matters at hand he flicked the menu away, awkwardly sniffing when scratching his stubbly chin as Blair took the initiative to poured them each a mug. "Well-" He cleared his throat, "That's nice of ya, but I'm fine - " He finally remarked about her clarification as she slid his mug across the table, "Thanks. Look, I jus' really wanna help out if I can because I really, really like Skylar."

Showing a hint of doubt, Blair quirked her brow at him while stirring cream into her beverage. "Are you really in a position to help her out?" But this doubt was out of compassion, because she set down her spoon when his face fell and continued, "I know you just lost a brother, and I'm not here to pry!" She quickly assured when he bristled, "I just want to know if you have the mental capacity to offer the comfort and support Sky needs while she's ill -"

"Whaddya mean?" Gasping, he leaned in and whispered frightfully, "Does she have cancer?"

"No," Blair enunciated. "She's menstruating."

"......"

"......"

"Is that a type of cancer?"

'I'm gonna have to start from the basics and explain everything, aren't I?' Blair let out an exasperated breath, but not at him. At the Kaminoans. 'They can teach clone troopers how to disarm a bomb in ten seconds, but couldn't slip in a little Sex Ed?'

Wordlessly, she chugged down half her caf, slammed the mug back down and deadpanned, "Wrecker, did the long-necks teach you ANYTHING about procreation?"

"Huh?"

Dear lord.

Another chug.

"Reproduction." She tried, wiping a droplet off her chin.

Blink. "What?"

*face-palm* "Oh for Sithspawn's sake - Wrecker, do you even know where babies come from?!"

Several patrons nearby shot them odd glances.

Gaping, Wrecker shifted in his seat self-consciously. "... The - the cloning tanks?" 'Blast it, I wish I was small like Hunter.' The giant just wanted his booth to open up and swallow him whole, to be spared further embarrassment that for once wasn't self-inflicted.

"I mean naturally conceived ones." Blair ground out.

"Concei- What???"

Dishes clanged when her palms slammed the table. "BORN, force-dammit, naturally born babies!"

Several patrons just up and left.

And jumpy Wrecker thought he and Skylar were loud.

At the edge of his own booth, he visibly gulped when trying to find the right answer so his head wouldn't be bitten off. "Uhhhh..." A flurry of diagrams and statistics Tech showed them as cadets briefly crossed his mind. "K-kinda."

He didn't think things could get worse.

But Blair's frustration turning to exasperation, and whimpering out of mortification she hunched and pressed her forehead against the cool table, "You at least know that sex makes babies, right? Please tell me you know that, please."

Ears, face, neck turning red, Wrecker couldn't stop sputtering, only capable of saying a childish: "Duh!" When all else failed.

By now, the waitress had been too scared to kick them out, so the Diner's surround sound was turned up a few notches to hopefully drown them out with upbeat tunes.

Still face-down, Blair raised a finger in a Tech-like fashion. "Well, Wrecker, there's a whole lot more to having nat-born babies than unholstering your weapon, disregarding the safety, and shooting it up in a woman's hoo-ha, okay?"

Oh, it got worse.

Jumping up, Wrecker bellowed, "What the hell kinda talk are havin' here?!" Which was more upsetting for the fellow patrons than Blairs lesson at an inopportune time and environment.

And she slowly raised her face, on the verge of tears. "A talk we need to have if you're gonna be able to understand what Skylar's needs are." She really, stupidly hoped that he just needed to know that Sky's uterus was shedding its lining, as it would do every month for like the next fifty years, and he'd be like 'Oh, okay, let's go shoppin' for snacks and meds!'

Blair was also an ignorant fool. And the Kaminoans could kiss her -

"Why can't I jus' ask Sky what she needs?" Wrecker stupidly had to ask, and it was completely not his fault in any way.

But migraine developing nonetheless, Blairs throbbing head rested against her palm, and she poured herself another hot one, "Because you won't understand what those needs are unless you understand what she's going through first, and constant questioning will only irritate her."

He slowly retook his seat, eyebrows furrowed. "She never makes me feel bad about bein' a little ditzy."

Blairs cheeks puffed from the heavy breath she let out. "Oh, this time she could, believe me."

There was no way out of this. I mean, he could've fought Blair off easily, but Wrecker didn't want to cause another scene, which was ironic, but at least in a food fight he wasn't getting the birds and the bees talk the Kaminaons apparently didn't humiliate him enough with.

So sighing and doing a brief sweep of the emptying Diner Wrecker begged, "Okay, can you jus' not talk so loud, or make me feel all uncomfortable, or the other customers uncomfortable - there's kids in the next booth, ya know."

"Fair enough." Though, she wished she had something strong to spike her caf with.

(HALF AN HOUR LATER)

Now, Wrecker did fine when getting a more in-depth anatomy lesson, only couldn't look Blair in the eye at all anymore, found the rim of his constantly refilled mug much more interesting, but when Blair started talking about the blood-

"Blood???"

His teacher plopped down the pot of caf she'd just finished off. "Yes."

"Where's she bleeding from???"

So she told him, truthfully and vividly, and nothing, NOTHING could've prepared him for what she disclosed. Why Sky was bleeding, WHERE SKY WAS BLEEDING FROM, HOW LONG SKY'D BE BLEEDING FOR, HOW SKY'D POP A BABY OUTTA THE SAME PLACE IF SHE GOT PREGNANT-

In the end, Wrecker did end up reaching for Blair's comforting hand all on his own, and didn't let go all throughout the first meal he could not bring himself to scarf down. Which was really sad, because he really loved a good bantha burger, but the ketchup only made him sick to his stomach just looking at it.

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

With her splitting headache, the sound of knuckles lightly rapping on the front door might as well have been Wrecker pounding in the frame of a droideka-

'Oh, it is Wrecker.' Miserable Skylar discovered when the door slid open.

'Oh, Blair did comm to say he was going to drop off the supplies.'' She could barely see his shy grin behind the armfuls of bags. 

'...OH.' Skylar blinked with just as much surprise as him, both beholding the baggiest sweatpants and oldest t-shirt she wore, wrinkled from being slept in. No fancy threads or makeup or piercings or jewelry or headpiece to zhuzh up her appearance as she usually liked to do. It was like she was a whole different woman.

"Wow, uh -" Wrecker went without thinking it through, but quickly followed up with a more upbeat, "WOW, you look ready for a holovid marathon!"

"Nice save," Sky replied with absolutely no hint that she found him amusing.

Maybe he should've said something like: 'Well, you look different than I normally see you - I mean, not sayin' it's a bad thing, just sayin' it's different - er - I mean -!'

No, that wasn't much better...

And her low command for him to stop yelling made him whisper, "Oh, sorry." Then jostle the bags in his arms. "Can I bring these in?"

Chapped lips pressed in a grim line, she merely half-shrugged and wordlessly stepped aside, and again 'WOW,' Wrecker thought when he creeped by her, making sure to give her a wide berth because Skylar was lookin' like she'd rip him apart with her bare teeth if he made another peep.

'Geez, Blair wasn't kidding.' His dirty boots leaving marks on the clean, SPARKLY WHITE tile floors definitely earned him an eye twitch.

Yet, just as soon as he plopped down the bags on their kitchen counters, a switch flipped and the strange waterworks activated. "'m sorry." He heard her mumble after the door shut, another strange occurrence - she generally spoke in all caps.

When he looked up, slack-jawed Wrecker didn't see a potential murderess, but someone who looked ready to kiss his boots and beg for mercy. "Why you sorry?" He softly wondered, stepping up with a hesitant outstretch of his hand without thinking.

But his heart twinged when Sky curled up on herself and side-stepped out of his reach like he was about to hit her, "We've only just gotten together, and now you've been roped into babysitting me."

Her behavior was odd and terrifyingly familiar, but he shoved those dark thoughts away. "Nooo..." It was so strange hearing him tone down the boisterous tendencies and be as gentle as he could be with his voice. "No, it definitely wasn't like that - I offered to help ya out."

But his softness nor his forced strength made her shake the baseless guilt, or meet his eye. "Look, I'm sure you got better things to do, so you're relieved of duty, Mr. Demolitions Expert." It was only here Wrecker got a lil' smile, but it was apologetic and just so wrong a look on her.

Until now, he'd only saved this softness for when one of his brothers was really, really injured or sick or needed comfort, not with playful punches and witty banter. It was a tactic he'd picked up over the years with 99, who was great at this sort of thing.

99...

'No, can't be sad right now.'

Keeping several feet between them, he could only shrug and say, "I don't, actually." And that could've come across as rude, but this is what he meant: 'There is nothing more important to me than making sure those I care about are okay.'

This was made evident by him returning to the supply haul and digging into the bags, "Blair told me you've got a whole routine to help ya get through the next couple o' days - First, you take a bath and shower while I go run out and get your favorite take-out." With a toothy grin, he pulled out a goody he had personally picked out - a small pack that he'd found which had an assortment of lightly fragranced oils and bath salts his teacher approved. "These smelled nice so Blair lemme get it for you to try." 

His excitement with the gift-giving might've faltered when Skylar still didn't seem okay with all this, so he next hoped the assortment of comfort foods he unloaded would entice her, "And after I get back, we'll watch holovids and eat all these snacky snacks I got, then you'll take a nap while I go get dinner -"

"You don't have to do all that, Wrecker." Skylar blurted, instantly regretting it with a flinch when he froze and pondered her with a strange, inscrutable frown.

"... Okay." Turned out to not be an annoyed frown, or an insulted frown like she expected when he curiously tilted his head and firmly said, "But I want to, Sky, if it'll make you feel better." Usually Wrecker felt he was always the confused one, but it seemed Skylar was not understanding that he volunteered, all on his own, to help her.

But it was okay. Him and his brothers recently were the same way with Talla. But that was because of their dark past.

Hmmm...

If she had told him to go away after this was made clear, Wrecker would've left that time.

Sticking close to the door, Skylar wanted to sob like a weakling, run away like a coward, punch the living daylights out of him, but Wrecker was clearly not him, so the gentle giant had to restrain himself when the suffering woman didn't turn him away, but really cracked a genuine smile this time, small and shy, and curiously braved shuffling up to peek in the bags.

"Oh my!" When it was revealed they were stuffed to the brim, and with her heart swelling at his sweetness she flitted her eyes up to him unsurely. "I really want to hug you, but I'm pretty sure I smell worse than a dead woman on Tatooine."

Barking a laugh, he reassured her, "Trust me, you could never smell worse than me or my squad after a two-week mission!" But Wrecker withheld his affection when she didn't initiate, even if he himself desperately needed and wanted it. And apologized again for being loud - "I'm working on it." He whispered the best he could.

And he absolutely forbade Skylar from putting the stuff away herself, in a gentlemen-like manner pulling a chair out from the little dining room table so she could sit and direct him on where things go, whilst snacking on some of her favorite berries. Skylar wasn't really a warm beverage kind of girl, so he gave her a chilled bottle of her favorite sodie, too. And instead of being annoying, it was rather amusing watching the gentle giant stumble around in the small apartment kitchen, but hey he did get the groceries put away! Eventually. But he didn't feel too self-conscious, because at least he wasn't the one feeling icky on this quality time together. Made him feel like they were on more equal terf.

Wrecker would've liked she didn't have to lift a finger at all, and go so far as to fill Sky's tub for her - he even had snagged a thermometer from one of Tech's many toolboxes to make sure the water temp was just right - but her bathroom was just as tiny as the kitchen, and he was no doubt going to have a smattering of bruises by the hour's end so Skylar let him off the hook, claiming to be starved.

"Oh, right, I gotta go snag your lunch!" The caretaker shirking on his duties barreled out of the apartment, no doubt irritating the neighbors below.

Not really caring at the moment and catching sight of a stray bag by said door, Sky asked what that held before he slipped away instead of saying 'INSIDE VOICE AND WALK, WRECKER.'

He mischievously grinned and stated, "You'll have to wait and see till I get back!" A finger was jabbed in her direction at the challenging raise of her tattooed brow, "And no peekin', either!"

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

This was new territory for both Wrecker, AND Skylar too.

She assumed he received a very in-depth lesson on her condition from highly outspoken Blair, which Skylar was enormously thankful for because it was during this delicate time she felt her worst, physically and emotionally. With the physical pain, she had not an ounce of patience or sunshine or empathy that would be needed for what went down at the diner-

"Tiima, the poor guy thought menstruating was CANCER -!" 🤦🏽‍♀️

- and with the emotions, yes there was the general weepiness and irritability, but this fragile time of month made it hard to fight triggered dark memories, and those memories brought feelings of anxiety, helplessness, hopelessness, loneliness, and insecurity for Skylar Tiima. A very stark contrast to what everyone associated her with, she knew. Unparalleled confidence. hyperactive go-getter. Never overthought a thing.
Constant faith that everything would turn out okay.

There was so much Wrecker didn't know about Skylar, and rightfully so because they could still qualify as strangers in a lotta ways, and there were still lots of things she hadn't unloaded even to her family yet. Until Wrecker's squadron was docked here last, they'd never mingled outside the professional setting of the tattoo parlor, and those short visits had been very few and far in between because they had no reason to come to Coruscant so often over the last couple of years.

His reappearance was so sudden, Skylar hadn't fully processed Blair's call to forewarn her about Wrecker being back in the city and delivering the supplies, until he was standing right there in her doorstep, excited then surprised then terrified. He had delivered all her favorite coping mechanisms, was out and about again to pick up her favorite take-out from her favorite stand, and he would return to watch her favorite holos until it was time to pick up her favorite dinner and desert. They were practically strangers...

She'd never received such care from him. It stunned her.

It was so sad, Skylar showed such kindness to everyone who needed her, yet because of those seven grueling years-

Just, Skylar was still surprised when she herself was in need and received such loving support. For so long, she was a silent sufferer, but Wrecker was having none of it. Wrecker didn't ignore her or make her feel like a hideous creature who disgusted anyone who unfortunately laid eyes on her, or Force-forbid TOUCHED her. Wrecker didn't invalidate how she felt. Wrecker offered any and all support. Her anxiety voice had told her it was too good to be true, and tried to make her sabotage his kind works by telling Wrecker to leave.

Nik and Blair and Mom and Dad had been helping to rewire those negative, dark, self-destructive thoughts for the last three years, and replace them with the reality: 'If someone truly cared about you, then helping you, loving you would in no way seem like a chore for them.'

She'd finally been able to accept that she wasn't a burden to Nik and Blair and her parents... was it time to take it a step further? Could this be an actual man who would not make her feel like she had to grin and bear it for the sake of appearances because you had to be the perfect couple to the rest of the galaxy?

These were Skylar's deep 'shower' thoughts when soaking in the warm bath, staring blankly at the tiny, LED shower speaker attached up her wall, playing her favorite soft soundtracks and was fading from one neon color to the next. The rising steam floated around the dimmed refresher, carrying with it the floral yet spicy scent of relaxing lavender, but her mind continued to be relentless. She hated silence because of this, but even the music wasn't helping and by Ryloth's Five Moon's, it plagued Sky with how she'd expected such different phrasing to come out of  Wrecker's mouth when he was here, showering her with gifts and affection.

Upon seeing her comfy yet grubby appearance: 'Wear the black dress with your tall, heeled boots and put on some makeup too - you look so tired, doll.'

When Skylar's face fell, for him to say: 'Oh what? You seriously think I was criticizing? I just know how insecure you are about how you look and wanted to spare you from that embarrassment in front of our friends.' A roll of the eyes and a huff and puff when he brushed by her, 'I was trying to help you feel more confident, no need to jump on me.'

Before stomping out of the room: 'Geez, you used to be so easy-going.'

Back to bringing home all that crap and inconsiderately dumping it on every surface imaginable: 'Can you pick up this mess? I gotta go to work.'

It wouldn't matter if she was ill, his days' plans were more important, and it was not as if she was working anyways because she'd been a stay-at-home wife since they got married. She had the time. But if she had an outing with friends planned, well he didn't want her spending time with those people anyways, he 'got a bad vibe from them.' Funny, he said that about every friend she had, actually. Even her own family. And for so long, she believed him.

Speaking about dinner with Wrecker, the unexpected: 'Oh, and we got company coming over for dinner.'

In those days, that was a rare event indeed, so she would never say no, even when feeling icky from sickness or her period. If she did say no, the silent treatment would be her fate for the rest of the day, and she was not worth being looked at either, yet he stayed in the same room as her and sent her anxiety levels through the roof with the tension. Force-forbid she went to their bedroom to lie down though - that would've raised hell. He'd come to bed soon after, either say she needed some mental health help for HER issues, or say 'Man, I'm so exhausted after working and cooking and cleaning up the kitchen,' implying she was lazy. It didn't help she'd heard him stomp around and slam cabinet doors when he did so, only intensifying her unnecessary guilt.

Then he'd just roll over and go to sleep. No goodnight. No empty 'I love you.' Not even the dispassionate peck on the lips.

But leading up to all that she had to endure more.

Back to investigating the supplies, Sky expected to not see her treats and would have to ask about the lack of ice cream the store must've had, to which she expected Wrecker to remark: 'They did have your ice cream, but I figure we should be healthier.' Then pulled out a bunch of cooking ingredients from the bags. 'That's why we're not doing that nerf casserole tonight.'

The casserole was already in the oven, and till now it was one of the few dishes she actually felt confident serving to their shared friends he'd approved. And she was always a little insecure about her body, but he had married her the way she was. Skylar thought that meant he must've found her attractive.

Nope. He just preyed on her vulnerability. Growing up with noticibly more fluff than all those female twi'leks depicted everywhere as tall, thin, voluptuous, what was portrayed as a very conforming view on the term 'sexy,' shy Sky had unwittingly been an easy target he locked onto when they first met.

Sick or on her period, Skylar didn't particularly feel like dressing up all sexy for his viewing pleasure. Nor did she feel like eating non-fattening, garden variety foods that was basically rabbit food. She didn't feel like cooking a big ol' meal to entertain his friends with, only for him to completely change up the meal when she ended up cooking something he didn't want - how could she have known though? He never told her what he was wanting, and she was not a mind-reader. And she didn't care for cleaning up after he cooked that five course meal. And the one from this morning, before he left for work. And yes, she looked six months pregnant, yet that was not because she'd gorged on fattening delicacies, actually she made quite sure to limit her food intake to ensure she'd not put on any more noticeable weight, she was just bloated from her condition. But did he have to point it out now of all times? When she was most vulnerable?

Yes, because she had to look her very best, makeup, heels, jewelry and all. Still had to keep the house immaculate, but on his strict terms. Still had to clean up after he cooked all his complicated meals. Had to stay away from all 'unhealthy' foods even though she had no allergies, even if the cravings were painful and could've provided momentary bliss. She would slave away to try cooking up something tasty for dinner, but when he arrived home, he'd alter it to his liking no matter what it was, even a dish she was certain he liked. Eventually, she stopped cooking altogether, couldn't find the will to get out of bed towards the end, which only aggravated him more but... she was done.

Now would this man have said something like this in front of an audience of peers, family, or the general population outside or inside their household? No. Of course not. They were the perfect couple with no issues. So in love. She was so lucky because he was so selfless and kind and funny and charming. He was such a pillar of the community. No one had a negative word to say about him, was liked by everyone he met. He'd drop everything to help a friend, and had the incredible acting skills to look surprised when they rewarded him for it, but Skylar knew he lavished the praise but also expected things in return.

Any authority figures would've laughed in her face if she went to report spousal abuse. For the longest time, she didn't believe her own family would believe her if she tried reaching out.

Back in reality, in the tub, the bathwater sloshed when Skylar shoved her face into her bent knees.

Because those times when she'd try to discuss things like this with him later-

'What? You know I would never say something like that, you must not have heard me right.'

'But you  did  say that -'

'I don't want to go through this again, Skylar. It's alright, I'm not mad at you, I know you're a bit sensitive right now, I figured out it must be your woman time - I thought those happened every other month?'

'I told you, it makes me too sick and you wanted me to work at being a healthier weight, so I stopped the shots.'

His chuckled radiated ridicule. 'Always somethin' huh?' Absolutely no sympathy like what she'd witnessed today. 'And always my fault.'

Things would drastically escalate from there.

'Well, then if I'm so bad, then I guess I shouldn't be here!' That would usually be the end of the discussion because the script would be flipped, and she ended up having to comfort him.

Or, because these types of things could make her so riled up, she'd break down, she'd have an anxiety attack, once she even got so 'crazed' she couldn't utter a coherent word, was ready to tear her lekku out, and did just smack his arm because she couldn't handle it anymore and wanted him to see, how could he not see how he made her feel?! Or was she really crazy and oversensitive and needed help?!

To which he latched onto that wrist and yanked her close. 'Don't ever do that again.' He'd growled at her with such ferocity, such cold-blooded eyes, stark contrast from the dead shark eyes often throwing her disgusted glances. And she had a nice bracelet of bruising to cover up later that day. That was the only time he left a mark on her.

But he tolerated her loudness, her chubbiness, all of her flaws when no one else would, and there were many, which he had helped her realize over the years. He was the best life-mate a girl like her was ever going to find, the only one who would accept Sky for what she was, and wanted what was best for her, that he loved her.

...

To this day, Skylar felt disgusted that she was ever grateful to that bastard. For so long, she thought that was normal. And that because of him, when someone was genuinely concerned about her well-being, it was so foreign that her mind and body declared 'DANGER' and made to sabotage it.

'This is a trap! It's too good to be true! You're signing up for another eternity of hell!'

Baths were meant to be relaxing, but with all this racing through her mind, the pulling it in two different directions by triggered self-sabotage and a glimmer of hope made her abandon it before the water had even cooled, and shower off all the feelings of skin crawling and self-loathing.

'No, honey, you've made so much progress over the last three years.' The logical side of her brain negated. 'Instead of jumping straight in cause you were afraid you couldn't do better, you waited and observed while working to make peace with your past. You actually picked a good one this time - Wrecker is actually a good guy.'

Skylar had watched soft, supple, 'shiny' Wrecker be worn away, bit by bit, into a battle-hardened soldier. As the war dragged on, she would see new lines on his weathering face, new scars on the exposed parts of his body every time he visited the shop and her heart ached for him. But she never pitied him. Actually, it furthered her affections because Wrecker was brave and heroic and strong, and he never did dwell on the bads. He always made light of the situation. He never wanted to drag anyone down. And it turns out to those he really cared about, he always made sure they were okay, even if he was down in the dumps himself.

'He is a true, kind soul.'

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

The only thing missing from Wrecker was the sparkle in his eyes, but Skylar didn't know how to approach his grief when he was so focused on helping her out - him uncomfortable on top of her being uncomfortable was definitely not needed. And if Skylar knew her bestie, lord knows Wrecker already suffered enough uncomfortableness as it was today.

Skylar usually got a small bowl of her favorite take-out noodles, but upon trudging out of her room when he returned she discovered that Wrecker went above and beyond by getting her a whole dang plate! This whole pampering thing was gonna take some getting used to, so she wouldn't feel like a mooching puffer pig...

Her stomach twisting in knots, Skylar clutched her abdomen with a grimace and meekly requested if she could save it for later. "Feelin' a little queasy, sorry." 'And headachy. And tired. And bloated. And like a gundark is gutting me from the inside, out...'

To her shock, he didn't berate her for trudging all the way to the markets for this only to be so rudely rebuffed.

Wrecker only breathed in sweet relief, "Oh thank the Force, me too." 

...This was REALLY gonna take some getting used to.

But another small smile brightened her pasty face. She leaned back against the counter and chuckled lightly, "Blair scarred you up pretty good, huh?" While he stored the food away in the fridge.

"More than the bomb that destroyed my face!" He claimed with his held stuck in the fridge, and she heard clinging when he pushed around all the goodies he had gotten to add the three big boxes more (one for Sky, two for him.)

Ain't no way he was going to diss his looks though, not on her watch, so old Skylar made a brief reappearance by way of a slight flirtatious smirk. "Well, that's a matter of opinion."

The back of his head BANGED! against the doorframe. "OW!" Halfway turning, he sheepishly smiled while rubbing the affected area, too tongue-tied to form a clever comeback.

Thankfully, the fridge door was already open, so Skylar slid around him and plucked an ice pack from the small ice box, shut the door and beckoned him to use it by standing on her tip toes and placing it on the top of his throbbing head herself.

And on the way down, the back of her hand might've affectionately brushed the 'destroyed' side of his 'ugly' head and face just so there was no doubt about her previous claim of not being put off, backed with a timid smile at the close proximity of their faces.

He was captivated by her affection long after she reclaimed her personal space bubble by the counter, until the whirring sound of the air conditioner kicked on and startled him out of it, making him aware of the forgotten bag by the door. "Oh, the gift!"

Wrecker didn't exactly know what to do while Skylar opened it, eventually tried casually leaning against the fridge door, but with too much force as usual - several cereal containers on top rattled and rocked upon impact, then rained down upon him.

Admist the sea of spilled cereal, Wrecker pouted in self-loathing, but it was a good thing he already had an ice pack for the new bruises and bumps forming.

Any pain was forgotten when, holding his breath, Skylar blatantly ignored the mess and unwrapped a fluffy, sixteen-inch bantha squishie stuffie/pillow-

"Just somethin' for you to hug when you don't want it from someone." Wrecker bashfully shrugged and explained when she asked what this piece of adorableness was for. His Lula had helped him through a lot of difficult times, and figured it might be a new type of comfort Skylar had not ever considered before.

To his dismay and puzzlement, Skylar didn't beam with appreciation or relief, that fearful cowering just came back. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked with that foreign, absolutely wrong small voice.

A surge of protectiveness overcame Wrecker, but he had no idea what it should be for. "No."

"... We didn't fight either." Sky told herself more than him, it seemed. He always got her a gift after a harsh 'discussion.'

"Not that I remember." Wrecker murmured, utterly lost and already angry.

A surly frown tugged down Skylar's mouth next. "Are you going to go bragging about this gift to your friends and family to get showered with praise?"

This question replaced his developing glare with a baffled gape - 'Where are these coming from???' - and he could only shake his head 'No' again, confusedly adding because it may or may not be a crucial fact for that something he was not aware of yet. "Blair only knows because I asked her if you'd like it..." 

Sky nodded slowly.

Conflictedly looking down at the big, exaggerated eyes of the stuffie, it took her a bit to digest this act of... innocence and compassion, apparently.

Wrecker's confoodled state overpowered his want for answers and thirst for blood on whoever the hell hurt her, because omeone must've hurt her, that was the only explanation, Wrecker was smart enough to see the mirrored signs.

'Nooo...'

Looking down with a scrunched face, he fiddled with the ice packs edges. Wrecker had so many questions, but he wasn't sure he wanted answers to them.

This quality time was definitely not turning out the way he hoped.

"I'm sorry, I know these are weird questions." Taking the pillow in her arms and hugging it close. "It's just... It's still hard for me to believe - I'm not used treatment like this from a romantic partner." Sky finally blurted out.

Mouth opening and closing a few times beforehand, with a constrictive sensation in his chest making it hard to breathe Wrecker softly asked, "Whaddya mean by that?"

It hurt him so much that she felt scared to look him in the eye, training the dulled orbs instead on a particular dirty spot he had made on the floor earlier. "Wrecker, I know there's stuff that's happened in your life that you haven't told me about yet, and stuff that happens out there on the war front too." Her face partially hid in the fur of the bantha head, "I also have some skeletons in the closet, ones I don't want to show yet either."

So Wrecker's instincts were right - someone had hurt her.

For a split second, he wanted to do nothing more than take his vibro and chop off the cruel hands of her past assailant for daring to lay them on her. Skylar may not have been his sweetheart for long, but she'd had his heart way before their first date. With his upbringing, Wrecker rarely gave a damn about someone outside his small family circle, so the fact that the surge of protectiveness was so strong, the anger like molten lava through his veins, that was saying something.

But stronger than both of those was his sadness.

Why couldn't the universe just leave the truly good people he cared about alone?

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

Sky initially rejected the big ol' hug he wanted to give her after that difficult, vague admission, but at her insistence when Wrecker made himself comfy on the couch, stretching his legs out to the footrest, Skylar surprised him by plopping her new pillow on his lap and laying her head there.

......

......

😧

For a solid half hour he was as tense as Tech must've been on Talla's first flying lesson, didn't move a muscle, not until Skylar went and took a bathroom break, and he could pop his aching joints.

But again like his brainy brother, Wrecker decided to conduct a little experiment on him and Skylar's so far undisclosed boundaries when she settled down the second time, because Force Almighty his new girlfriend initiated close contact with him and he did not want to screw that up so early into their involvement. He wanted just a little more, because that was how he communicated his feelings.

The flick they'd been watching was at a slow musical number right then, holographics equally dimmed and tranquil, so there was less of a chance to startle Skylar. She actually looked relaxed for the first time since crashing on her doorstep today.

Wrecker started out with teaching down and pulling her fuzzy blanket back up onto her exposed shoulder, to test the waters for potential backlash or rejection signals.

None.

Hoping he didn't just miss them - those stupid, ditzy tendencies and all - Wrecker let his big ol' hand rest on her shoulder. And remain there. In what he hoped was a small act of comfort. His thumb stroked back and forth, giving a light massage too and further communicating his innocent and comforting intentions.

He'd forever remember this treasured moment when the scarred woman didn't flinch, but her opposite hand slipped out from underneath the protective caccoon and laced it's fingers with his.

This was the first time Wrecker truly wanted to fangirl about his girlfriend, like her hand was so tiny compared to his but it made him feel like the biggest teddy bear in the universe! Wrecker liked being seen that way by Skylar, because most people thought the exact opposite and avoided him like the blue shadow plague, or tried knocking him down a peg before he could do it to them.

Instead of seeing him like a monster, she saw him as someone who could chase the monsters away, proven by her eventually dozing off halfway their second flick.

With people who are supposed to give you undying love and affection only inflicting you such deep, irreparable scars, her being at her most vulnerable was an act of true, utterly deep trust. Wrecker knew that much.

And he was right.

Before slipping away into the dream world Skylar came to the realization that Nik and Blair probably sent Wrecker on purpose. Their mother would've dropped everything at the comm call when hearing that one of her babies needed her help, but Wrecker just happened to return just when she needed someone most, and they decided it was time for Skylar to dip her toes into the next phase of her healing.

Meddlesome? Perhaps.

Was she thankful? One hundred percent.

Because when Skylar married 'he who should not be mentioned,' they expressed some concerns here and there all throughout the courtship and engagement... but at least with her protective big bro and bestie she'd not heard one single protest since meeting Wrecker.

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

With the 'Sad Batch' growing up on Kamino, 'regs' quickly learned that it was brain-bolted to try antagonizing the four enhanced clone unit when they were all together.

So, the first plan ever devised by the 💀Bad Batch💀 was this: ALWAYS stick together, and NEVER leave your own behind. As plain and simple as that.

It was this reminder from Tech, and how he wanted to add a cruel nuance to this simple plan in honor of 99... that made Wrecker angry this particular morning. A mere week and a half since 99's premature death, Tech was so logical and blunt about this outright crisis to the family, and it sadly caused the grieving giant to finally snap.

Funny thing was, that had always been their Tech. He simply could not read the room, or judged the problem was simply this when in actuality it was so much more emotionally complex than he perceived, but you loved him anyway because Tech always had good intentions.

Right now though, Wrecker didn't find his cluelessness funny, and mere seconds into this 'family meeting' he leapt up from his place on the couch. "How can ya even suggest somethin' like that, Tech?!" He roared down at the baffled brainiac, "There's no way in karking hells you're that stupid!" Wrecker literally shook the entire ship when he stormed out.

There was a few dents Talla buffed out later on, but meanwhile she busied herself with asking a fragile Tech for more details on this plan alteration of his called 'Plan 99' to ease the pain of Wrecker's harsh rejection. And Hunter on the opposite couch appreciated her intervention, feeling a bit strung out himself despite Tech's honorable, bittersweet idea making sense, in a strange kind of way.

And now here Wrecker was, at Skylar's door, unable to knock even though she would be expecting him. Wrecker raised and lowered his fist so many times, second guessing, third guessing, even tenth guessing. He wanted to spend every possible moment with Skylar now that she was on Day 3 of her period and a tad less miserable, it was even her who suggested going out to do something before her scheduled afternoon shift. Their first date was alright, and both had been excited to try making their second one much better. But what held Wrecker back and wasted that precious time was... 'Who wants to spend time with such a downer like me? I don't even wanna be around me.'

Eventually his hand dropped back against his side and Wrecker gave up, turned to leave, but the door whooshed open before making it too far.

There she was, a vision in a simple light blue turtleneck, black overalls, sturdy boots and headpiece. Her dazzling, coy smile outshone even the brightest colors and sparkles she enhanced her pretty face with. "You do know that we have security cams, right?" Skylar halfway chuckled, pointing to a small round of glass completely missed by Wrecker, and right over the door buzzer and blinking blue to indicate recording.

"Oh." He breathed at his stupidity, directing his lackluster eyes down at the helmet between his hands, "Sorry."

"No worries." Skylar reassured him with a softer smile that should've caused butterflies on his end, but it didn't. But he didn't have time to feel depressed about that, because she didn't give Wrecker a chance to try fumbling out various apologies and asking polite formalities about her health. Grabbing her coat off the hook, Sky exited the apartment, locking the door behind her with the key code. "C'mon, let's go." She beckoned, lightly brushing Wrecker's vambrace protected arm when passing him by.

He fumbled with his helmet but didn't budge. "Um..." Sky turned questionably, and saw the hollow shell of her boyfriend fighting tears. Wrecker was the most emotionally open of his brothers, she found that out early on into their friendship, and her heartstrings were tugged when it looked like it took everything in him to just speak. "Look, I - I don't feel like goin' out so much anymore." It looked so laborious for him to just point his thumb over his shoulder. "That's um... That's why I was gonna leave," The crushing weight on his chest, slumped shoulders, must've made it hard to just breathe. "I was gonna leave ya a message 'n everythin' - "

Wrecker was surprisingly relieved when he was gently shushed by Skylar, who stepped up to press two fingers on his lips, a gentle way to stop the Tech-like rambles. 'Tech. Why would he-' He tilted his head downwards to avert his misty eyes, so his new lady would hopefully be spared seeing him wanting to shatter completely under her affectionate touch Wrecker was craving so desperately, yet he was afraid to ask for. He'd known Sky for two years, but they were only just venturing into this relationship saga of their storyline. Boundaries and expectations had not been set, and he didn't wanna burden her.

Heavy-hearted Skylar kept her voice wispy and soothing. "You've been super helpful to me these last two days even after what happened on Kamino, and I wanna help you now." For not the first time in the last couple of days, his scarred cheek was caressed, and while he didn't flinch when she held his face, Wrecker still didn't look up either, and Sky tilted her head a little. "Do you think you can handle a trip to the lower levels, and if you see what I have planned and still wanna cancel, you can." At this generous promise on her part, Wrecker found the strength to gaze down at her, the abused and understandably mistrustful side of him searching to find any hints of a lie. So she offered a small, genuine smile. "I won't be mad, I promise, but I think this activity might help."

There was a part of Wrecker that was still curious about what Sky had cooked up, especially now that she said it could help with his grieving. Last night when he left the apartment, Wrecker was rather melancholy when leaving a little earlier, since he didn't have to do much today for Skylar, not giving him the distraction he wanted. As per the habit they'd formed the last couple of days, he commed Skylar when he got to the Marauder to let her know he'd arrived safely. Before she said the expected goodnight, Skylar said that they were going out tomorrow, and that before Wrecker asked the only thing she needed from him was to wear his armor.

Her soft, comforting hand drifted back down, to lay over one of his massive ones holding his helmet. Wrecker didn't fight her gently enfolding her hand with his, so tiny compared to his massive one!

But just as the giant so desperately desired, he felt safe and secure and steady while Skylar led the way. And he held fast to her the whole way down to the Coruscant Underworld.

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

Crosshair was what some might consider the opposite of Wrecker - his main symptom of grief was not gloom but white-hot anger, and he didn't bother hide it, and wanted someone to blame. When he wasn't holed up in his room, the Sniper chose to focus that anger on the reg Captain who promoted the two regs 99 fought with to the prestigious designation of ARC Trooper.... when they literally got 99 killed in the process! By looking up their official files with Tech's datapad tapped into the Kaminoan database, Crosshair drew up three new targets to practice sharpshooting with inside the cargo hold. Admittedly, it took a great deal of restraint to not add one of their few comrades, Commander Cody, to the lineup.

In complete honesty, Wrecker just wanted someone to hug him, no words said because that anger wouldn't bring 99 back. Nothing would. It was ironic, he was so steadily built but right now he desired a steady person to help hold him together, so he wouldn't completely shatter beyond repair when breaking down and finally accepting that his older brother was gone. It was in the beginning stages, and Wrecker also wanted to yell and scream and punch and kick but that would cause more of a mess for Hunter to clean up, causing more for Talla to worry about, causing her to be unable to have any energy left for Tech and Crosshair.

If Wrecker sought Tech for comfort, there would be no physical affection but babbles about mental health mumbo jumbo which he could not sit through. Crosshair would simply hand Wrecker a blaster and tell him to join in on the blame game, and while highly tempting, it would do him no good. The only time acting out on his anger felt halfway good was when he through that heavy weight through the wall, when he and Talla were working out the other day. And Hunter was apparently hiding his immense grief, only able to handle taking over chores when needed. And spending time with Talla. So Wrecker didn't want to string them out more than they already were.

Somehow, Skylar had an inkling Wrecker was drowning his grief, and needed an outlet for all the big feelings he had no idea how to handle because he was not taught how to handle them in a healthy way. Her experience with grief was in a completely different parsec than Wrecker's loss of a loved one, so she couldn't begin to imagine how her abused, isolated, war-torn soldier for a boyfriend was faring with the loss of his oldest brother.

It was why Sky brought him here, to her old stomping grounds, specifically this rinky dink establishment with a large, brightly colored graffiti art for a front sign sprayed all over the front window:

"'Wild Wookie Rage Room?'" Wrecker read aloud with a brow curiously curved upward.

Sparkly eyed Skylar grinned up at him mischievously. "Yupperooney." For one weak moment she forgot the figurative cloud hanging over them and mentally swooned at how adorable Wrecker looked, scarred nose cutely scrunched up in confooslement and he was wearing his helmet atop his head like a hat. "This place is specifically designed to destroy things in a safe, controlled environment for fun, or stress relief."

Wrecker was colored intrigued. "Huh." They probably looked like creepos standing in front of the window and seemed to be staring in inside, but really they were observing the sign and small smatterings of info mixed in. Kinda like scouting before infiltrating or attacking, Wrecker couldn't help but compare. This was only his second time out without another member of his squadron and it would take some getting used to. He hoped the intense hypervigilance would die down some eventually.

Skylar squeezed Wrecker's hand she held the best she could, to literally grab hold of his attention again. "After graduation, a bunch of us went as a party here, reserved the big ol' hall filled with hundreds, probably thousands of breakables, and we destroyed every single piece and lemme tell ya, it really helped release all the pent up stress our school years left for lovely parting gifts," With a smug face, she waved a hand towards herself, hoping he'd be impressed with: "Me, myself and I even took a shovel to a big holo-projection table once, and completely demolished it singlehandedly." She left out the crucial fact this was from another trip here, after her ugly divorce. Or that he-who-should-not-be-mentioned's stupid face was spraypainted on the cover glass she chose as the first strike. But eh, details. "Quite therapeutic, I dare say it was." She only added, because that was what the focus of the conversation was.

Some of this real-world stuff still baffled Wrecker, like going to school as a STUDENT instead of a cadet to learn MATH or HISTORY and not graduating a full-fledged SOLDIER ready for bloody combat. Yet after processing this, Wrecker's aching heart swelled when the pieces of the puzzle clicked together - he liked destroying stuff, and Skylar took it upon herself, despite feeling icky, to find a way he could destroy something off the battlefield, in the hopes it'd help him feel better.

To have someone outside the family do such a tender action for him, someone he was fond of in this special and scary way, well, Wrecker was deeply touched. Those familiar butterflies made a reappearance, as did the new, overwhelming urge to kriffing sweep Skylar Tiima into his arms for a big ol' kiss. But holding her hand was nice too, kept him in the moment.

The inside of this place was not what Wrecker was expecting, though there wasn't really a chance for premeditation. A little dark and dingy with lively music blaring, creaky wooden floors and weathered walls were decorated with lots more pretty kriffing awesome colorful graffiti for paint jobs, light up signs adding the odd glow of color here or there. Work droids big and small were milling or flying about. A simple back counter is where you checked into, and the place was filled to the brim with shelves and tables displaying all these extra 'breakables' of all shapes and sizes available to purchase before your time slot, holoprojections included of bigger stuff they could get, junkyard salvaged speeder cars and such.

Approaching the counter, Skylar told Wrecker who wanted to wander to not worry about picking stuff out, that she'd taken care of everything, and checked them in with the Devaronian employee behind the counter.... Once she got her attention. Girl was nosedeep in her datapad, and apparently an old classmate from their mutual art class. When Skylar finally pulled her from daydream land, Wrecker got to see this woman gave off the aura of an eccentric artist. Coveralls decorated with splots of paint, tears and outright burn marks (one half of a sleeve completely singed away) the bald woman of many visible scars (and part of a forehead horn missing) bore a glint of mischievousness behind her protective goggles. Wrecker had a gut feeling this artist was from a breed he didn't know existed, definitely not one who would be allowed to display their art in the prissy Coruscant Museum that Talla really wanted to check out one day.

Pulling them out of the lobby, the old classmate - Tae - talked a mile a minute about how excited she was to supervise 'the destruction of this glorious masterpiece, the most beautiful baby born of my genius!' She punched the button that opened then closed the entry to the lift behind them, locking the couple in with the big bag of artistic crazy that Wrecker was starting to wanna ask if they could be best friends because everywhere he looked she seemed to have awesome art he could totally support. Give him some class... Or sophistication... or whatever it was called. Add another layer to his personality that could make Skylar like him more!

Surprisingly, gloomy Wrecker felt excitement building. This outing wasn't turning out to feel so strenuous. He was kinda glad Skylar convinced him to humor her. Some destructive fun did sound appealing since Kamino and that rebellion they took out right after was a big disappointment.

Not wanting to stop her animated bragging, Tae wasn't shy about sliding next to distracted Wrecker. "Between you and me, I usually hafta hold back on my flair because most people that come in here are accident prone frag heads, or don't truly appreciate the beauty of my artistsic genuis," Pushing up her goggles made Tae kinda sway and clutch the flustered giants muscular arm for support, because blinking harshly, she had to get used to the unobscured elevator lights burning her retinas that hadn't seen the light of day for, well, days most likely, "And there's that whole waiver thing that requires me to say I take the utmost care to ensure everyone's safety and I am not liable for any injury or accidental death," She swiped a hand across her face with goggle printed indents, waving the other dismissevly, "Yada Yada Yada, all that bantha poodoo nonsense that sucks all the fun outta everything."

"I would still love to have him all in one piece by the end of this." Skylar made sure to interject, though if Wrecker leveled a skyscraper and lived, perhaps there was nothing to worry about. In fact, she hoped it wasn't her hopeful imagination playing tricks on her, seeing excitement start to seep onto his grim features at the promise for 💥chaos💥

With recovered, curious eyes Tae gave burly, off-put Wrecker a slow once over that made him want to blush. It didn't help when she stepped back into his space bubble again, and he was literally backed into the corner, holding his breath 'cause this felt so wrong. But Skylar didn't intervene, in fact she seemed to think this was FUNNY.

Raising her hand, Tae shamelessly gave the exposed part of Wrecker's massive bicep an experimental squeeze. He yelped in surprise, but she still followed with a light rap of his chest plate with her knuckles, for observation purposes. Tae made a satisfied hum, and waved that dismissive hand again at mildly amused Skylar. "Oh don't worry, you're himbo is gonna be just fine, he's a trained soldier with decent armor, and experience with destroying things, you tell me." She reached up to snap her goggles back on, then rubbed her hands together excitedly, the lift door sliding open with a creak. "This is gonna be so great - no sucky rules, no limits, I was even able to special order a few exclusive parts for this date o' yours."

Skylar wasn't calling this a date, not exactly, but was spared any uncomfortableness when they'd arrived to the main event: the very hall her school day friend group reserved for their graduation, sturdily constructed and completely transformed into a theme that Wrecker was taken aback with, in an almost bittersweet way. Skylar had to take his hand again and lead him out of the lift.

As promised, the hall was filled with stuff for him to break and... Wrecker squinted at some highly recognizable objects surrounding them. 'Three seppie gunships?' They looked pretty banged up but, 'How the kriff did she manage that?!' In fact, taking a slow turn, with closer inspection the whole place uncannily resembled a makeshift battlefield of sorts, a rather unconventional and boring one at first glance. But behind a near-transparent rayshield, the four walls and roof were studded with dozens of projectors and that built in holographic technology was controlled by a console in the corner.

Tae jogged to it and flicked a few switches and toggles. The room turned pitch black. Only for a whirring, clattering sound to fill their ears and the room to erupt in bright lights from moving holographics. Above displayed the simulated beginnings of an aerial battle, with amazingly similar, simulated surround sound and fully colored graphics. Smoke even seeped out in places. The ground vibrated when virtual bombs struck or canons fired.

Moving to surround them were moving holographic ground canons and battle droid squadrons over a simple grassland. With blocks and barrels and stacked crates to take cover behind in the physical part of this simulated battlefield, Tae stepped back over to reveal hidden compartments filled with smaller, shatterable breakables, like glass cups, liquor bottles, or ceramic dishes. Some barrels had a huge crowbar sticking out, or a long thin metal pipe, a large hammer, basically anything sturdy that could be used to pummel an object into oblivion, like say one of the ugly stone statues littering the area. And there was handpainted anti-separatist graffiti everywhere.

A lot of work and creativity went into creating this simulated battlefield, was the first thing Wrecker processed.

As anxious Skylar watched stunned Wrecker's reaction closely, Tae disappeared for a moment, then made her way back over with a big bundle in her arms. "Now, this might seem a little odd because from what I hear, on Kamino you get to use training blasters and droids but trust me," The bundle was dropped into Skylar's waiting arms, allowing Tae to empathize her statement with energetic hand movements, "When it comes to breaking stuff it can be just as satisfying taking out a target with magnificent shatter of a wine bottle, or getting real hands on and pounding it to an unrecognizable scrap heap. Reallyyyyyyy therapeutic."

With a more understanding eye, scrunch-nosed and curious Wrecker put two and two together - these weren't real seppie ships, but Tae might as well have gotten these straight from the seppie factories. Skylar put in a special order for this 'date' to make this as awesome as possible, and Tae took such care to turn random bits of randomness and single-handedly created three semi-believable gunships. For him to destroy. With his bare hands. No limits. No rules. No repercussions or risk of being court martialed. Wrecker even caught sight of some big pieces of seppie-like technology, consoles, computers, etc, set out for him to break... He tilted his head... And got the feeling couldn't be so copy and paste. It looked way too authentic.

The responsible part of Wrecker made him turn and ask the crazy art lady who'd briefly returned to the console, "Is this all legal?"

Who stopped her sequencing, pursed her lips and casually shrugged, "Legal down here."

He took a gander at it all again, and at his girlfriend now all suited up in rather baggy protective gear the establishment provided, having a cute little helmet of her own that protected her lekku and she had a clear shield for her face. Wrecker could see fierce hope glowed in her blue orbs that her 'date' approved of this excursion. 'Still wanna leave?' He could basically hear her asking.

It wasn't just his want to not drag her down in the dumps with him that made Wrecker nod with a reassuring grin forming. In a way, this could end up being better than Kamino. There, you weren't allowed to break stuff during those simulations, just shut them down with a stun blast.

Here, Tae literally heaved a giant pipe of sturdy metal into his arms. "Go ahead!" She urged, hopping up to tap his helmet down into place, click a disc of some sorts over one of his auditory sensors, then scurried behind her protective barrier, slipping in an earpiece of her own. Hands flew over the keyboard, typing a particular sequence into the system.

With a pixelated flourish, a gold and glowy hologram of a B1 droid manifested within a circular console to his left, hiding in a crouch like the coward it was.

Wrecker flinched when static unexpectedly came from his helmets auditory sensors. "Whack the bantha crap outta him!" He heard Tae practically beg over his comm channel.

"R-really? Just like that?" He asked unsurely, side-eying her.

She eagerly nodded, and moved a switch while inputing another sequence.

There was no further egging needed. The droid snapped up with his holographic blaster and went in for the kill shot.

Years of pummeled instincts kicked in and in one swift motion the clone commando ran at him full speed, dodging that blast. He lept up with pipe drawn above his head and with a loud battle worthy cry came crashing down on that clanka.

Tae wasn't kidding about the dramatic flair. When his pipe made destructive contact the droid holo exploded into a bunch of pixalated sparks with more than awesome, accurate sound effects, down to the clankas pitiful 'Oh no-' before it's destruction. Not to mention the satisfying crunch and shattering of glass from the seppie console.

And it was like a switch went off in Wrecker. For the first time since Kamino's invasion, Wrecker felt alive. "This. Is. Awesome!" He cheered, whooping and hollering and he shot Tae a thumbs up to signal he wanted to go all the way.

With a wink and finger gun back, she whipped up the rayshield made to fully enclose her and the console, and Wrecker sprung into attack mode again when three more droid holograms appeared, including an aerial battle series one, right in front and above of the droid ship.

An evil grin formed under his helmet, because that was a droid ship he could destroy with his bare hands and no one would care cause he was awesome to the bystander and Skylar exuberantly cheered him on, jumping up and down even.

It was like he was the hero in a holoproduction. His own electrifying soundtrack and everything, because Tae had the capability to blast music even all the way down here.

Now, Skylar had never seen Wrecker in action till now. While she was incredibly impressed and felt all tingly, the distorted evil chuckle heard from her date made her dropped jaw snap back up into place and she swiftly jogged backwards, to request of the chick at the console: "Yeah, I'm gonna need that riot shield -"

Considering it took less than a minute for Wrecker to completely demolish that first ship, lots of carnage turned into deadly projectiles flung at breakneck speed, the shield was definitely the right call for Skylar.

🔅🔹🖤🔸💀🔸🖤🔹🔅

Skylar didn't even flag down a cab for the way back to the apartment, they traveled by foot to see if that'd help hyper Wrecker settle down by shere physical exhaustion. Man was a bundle of energy even after the last of the fake post-battle scraps were given one more go round because he just needed to keep getting it out. Thank the maker for all the rayshields protecting the walls, though the duracrete floors would need some repairs. Not that Tae seemed to mind, in fact Skylar swore she saw her wipe away a few happy tears from time to time.

It wasn't until they'd gotten back and Wrecker reluctantly removed his helmet that Skylar found out he was crying in the process of getting it all out, his eyes red and puffy, cheeks moist with tears that left behind tracks and blotches of irritation on his weathered skin, the friction with his helmets lining not doing him any favors either.

Hungry, tired, emotionally spent, he was advised to sit down and he claimed the floor by the couch, arms perched on his bent knees, not wanting to dirty the fancy furniture and wanting to make himself as small as possible to not risk brushing against anything either. The big lug was advised to shed his upper armor so he could lean back comfortably (although unsurely too) between Skylar's knees while she was up on the couch, first aid kit to the side and currently being rummaged through. In the process of his demolition Wrecker ended up recieving a scratch on his neck, when a piece of shrapnel launched at just the right time and speed to nick him on the exposed skin between the body glove collar and his helmet. Obviously, she wanted to disinfect and apply a small bacta patch because who knows where that metal came from that Tae used.

"Woooowww..." Wide-eyed Wrecker allowed himself to breathe when that adrenaline was finally, finally wearing off after that mid-morning rush. It left behind slight tremors in his hands and a general weak sensation in his body, wait actually that was probably from low blood sugar. Now that Wrecker could think about it, he hadn't eaten breakfast! Man, was he out of it...

There was no real indication Wrecker wanted to talk about what was going through his muddled mind, but pausing, Skylar wanted to open the possibility just in case and did give him a light head pat in response to his self-reflection, which prompted a distracted half-smile from him. "Not a single piece of scrap left untouched." Skylar had to whistle impressively at the brief demolition flashback while flipping open the bandage container. "Think you got it all out?" She halfway joked, but with some gentle probing undertones, definitely wanting to see if Wrecker would be willing to let her in a little, to see how much worry was warranted on her part because to be perfectly honest it was a difficult, scary couple of days when he went incommunicado after the Battle for Kamino. And Skylar cared about Wrecker, so seeing him in pain naturally caused her pain too.

"... Think so." Wrecker only mumbled to her question, eyes glazed over and focused on nothing and nothing else verbally added.

It took a lot of back and forth mentally and physically (the bandage shifted between hand to hand) for Skylar to figure out how to build on this. Her lip was between her teeth unsurely when she finally peeled away the bandage's packaging, crinkling of plastic filling what herself perceived as awkward silence. He was actually just lost in his own mind and reemerging grief again.

Then Skylar all but blurted out, "I'm so sorry about your brother." Ripping off the bandage while... About to be applying one to him now. The irony.

"I'll live." Wrecker automatically said, then startled, thinking that sounded snippy, "But uh, thanks." And he did mean that. Glad he wasn't the one to have to tell her why he was so meh, though felt like a coward having Talla make the call. Despite crying he was glad for this excursion, felt bad Skylar probably spent a ton of money on this. Wrecker was kinda a hot mess.

And he seldom could hide his emotions, the distress was as plain as the nose on his face, so the lighthearted, safe route Skylar went. Shifting forward, she quietly murmured for him to tilt his head with a beckoning nudge of her knee against his shoulder. "I'm stunned," She continued, lightly smoothing the bandage over the left side his neck, and while Wrecker flinched at the foreign contact he sighed in relief from the cool healing gel. "I had no idea one person could cause that amount of destruction in less than a kriffin' hour." When Wrecker stole an unsure glance up at her, briefly thinking he'd put her off, relief was sweet when Skylar playfully waggled her eyebrows to show her vast impression instead, backed up by a shoulder squeeze, "You live up to your name, Mr. Demolitions Expert."

A switch went off in Wrecker again, because he liked talking about the awesome destruction he caused much more than his brother being gone, and he liked Skylar's touch. Which she didn't remove when he didn't tense or push her away. Heart palpitations returned for a whole different reason and was a lot better than feeling like it was being torn to shreds.

A toothy grin partially lit up Wrecker's blotched face. "Oh ho ho, that was nothin', ya should see me when I'm not holdin' back."

Actually, probably not a good idea to say that, here came a deadpanned look. "... You're just pullin' my lekku, right?"

But fond memories of, as you guessed it, DESTRUCTION caused a sincere evil chuckle from Wrecker. "Lemme put it this way, mesh'la - that was without a blaster. Or a cannon. Or explosives. Or a fully loaded gunship."

After she blinked once, twice, Skylar honestly had no idea what to say to that other than: "Dayum." She huffed in amusement, not too much fear, thank the Force, "I almost feel sorry for those," Her brows furrowed curiously and stroked his shoulder, "What did you call 'em, not droids exactly -"

"'Clanka's.'"

"Right, 'clanka's,'" Skylar snickered affectionately at his slight accent she felt was nailed right on the head, "And what does 'mesh'la' mean, by the way?"

His eyes bugged out at the slip up consisting of calling her a pet name without proper clearance. Wrecker was the epitome of a mynock caught in the headlights and was glad he wasn't facing her head on, able to tuck his chin a bit to hide his sheepish state. "Oh, uh...." Dang it, he'd been calling her that more than her own name in his mind so long, it slipped from his lips as easily as he took out those gunship props.

*cue awkward throat clearing*

He swiped a hand down his mouth and stubbly chin, his admittance said so quietly as she'd never thought he was capable of. "It means, er, 'beautiful.'"

One Christophsis.

Two Christophsis.

Three Christophsis.

"Oh!" Skylar's heart soared, heat rushed to her face, and it was a struggle to maintain composure for dignities sake, and managed to smoothly reply, "Pretty easy on the eyes yourself, soldier." Her hand still lingering on his tense shoulder, she gave a light stroke again and to change the subject delicately asked of her guest, "Do you need anything else before I have to go?"

Who's immediate thought was to flat out say 'No.'

But then his tummy lowly rumbled. 'Wait, maybe I can ask for a lil' snack-'

'No, that'd be rude... Would it? Yes! Wait, no, 'cause we're together -'

'HOLY KRIFF, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND-'

'Yeah and couples SHARE!'

'BUT I DON'T WANT HER TO THINK IMA MOOCHER!'

A light bulb went off in his head. It might be a jerk move to beg for food, but perhaps there was something she'd be okay with? And his body glove wasn't dirty since the fake battlefield wasn't...

"Maybe a -" Nerves kicked in, and the tips of his ears turning red he flexed his hands nervously, "Well a - a hug? Yeah, just a hug goodbye, I was thinking that might be... Nice, i-if your okay with that?"

If he'd braved a glance, he'd seen Skylar's also warm face nearly split from her wide smile. "Could definitely do that. Could give you one now too, if you want."

His eyes so obviously lit right back up, but his lips moved to say, "Nah, you don't -" In a flash her arms were around his shoulders, and his weak resolve faltered, "I mean, you don't hafta -" He mumbled, but Skylar nuzzling his neck caused all half-hearted, not even quarter-hearted protests to die on his tongue, and he leaned his head against hers with a happy sigh.

"I gotchu." Skylar made sure he knew.

A beautiful woman inside and out, whom he deeply adored, was hugging him. 'This is nice. This is really nice.'

Wrecker puzzled her with another lil' chuckle, but it didn't sound like an evil one, and she whispered close to his wonky ear with a little giggle of her own, "What're ya thinking about?"

And it was difficult to respond with the resulting dry mouth on his end. "We - we gotta go out when we aren't feelin' like what the tooka dragged in."

"I dunno." Skylar lilted, raising her head to glance down at his flustered self with a cheeky grin. "I kinda like this."

That grin was infectious, "Heh, me too," He reached up to touch the arms around his neck that made him feel all glowy and floaty (the only way he could describe it) "A-and I really wanna do more o' this 'cause it feels right, but not like - like this, 'cause I don't wanna burden ya with my problems, ya know -"

"Wrecker, you spent our second chunk of time together as an exclusive, official thing taking care of me on my period." Skylar deadpanned again, "You deserve a hundreds of hugs and I'd repay it all by staying like this until you have to leave me again, if I didn't have a shift in thirty minutes."

Mild scolding aside, Wrecker nodded once, showing he didn't mind helping her through unfortunate life events either... And was it wierd he kinda found it hot that she was all assertive? Huh, maybe this is what that term being 'whipped' means... Why did Crosshair make it seem like it was so bad?!

And it seemed like he was joking when saying, "Hey, keep holding me like this, wrap your legs around my waist, I'll carry ya to work. I get a hug, you get a lift to work - problem solved!" But in hindsight, the gentle giant was probably being dead serious.

Chapter Text

Wake up. Check her long distance comm. Nothing. Disappointment.

Shower. Check her long distance comm. Nothing. Disappointment.

Eat breakfast, check, nothing, disappointment.

Go to work, eat lunch, more work, on the transport ride home, during dinner, before bed, no matter what she was doing, Skylar was always checking her long distance comm. This pattern had repeated for twelve days, and at the end of her day she always had to resort to recording a message and sending it to Wrecker, who obviously had not had access to long distance communications. For twelve days.

Sky wasn't mad, just now after a year of knowing each other and having the crushies, now a month of being exclusive, she was beginning to keenly felt his absence, didn't know if it was too soon to be experiencing so? Insecure Skylar felt she shouldn't worry, these boys seemed to have extremely stupid luck when it came to their job. But she'd opened her heart to Wrecker and he had already overwhelmed her expectations with how tenderly he'd figuratively hold it. Even when he was in mourning over his brother he wanted to help her, so here was the crippling fear of all this being torn away from her at a moments notice.

'It's too good to be true' ; 'All good things must come to an end.' Her mistreated mind tormented her with, Force she felt so sick to her stomach right now.

It was just before bedtime again. She held off recording another holo a little longer, sat at the kitchen table in her jammies with the wretched comm device before her. Waiting.

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The Bad Batch finally got a break, and the clearance to get some well-deserved shut eye. Another successful mission, another Jedi they'd earned the mild respect of with their unorthodox but EFFECTIVE theatrics that helped them push forward on the path to rid this planet - Felucia - of the Separatists.

Yet Wrecker did not want to hit the rack like his brothers. Instead, he made a beeline to the cockpit, effectively kicked out Talla and Hunter, who liked utilizing this sound proof chamber because of Wrecker's usual post-mission loud holovid therapy, to make up for the lack of an adrenaline rush.

He scooped their grumbling selves up from the pilot and co-pilot seats and carried them to the door, "I ain't playing holovids, so get out, get out, get out -!" Hunter and Talla were dropped down onto their unsteady feet, and the door whooshed shut in their scowling faces, two centimeters away from slicing off their scrunched noses.

Wrecker cursed Tech under his breath when he saw the brainiac had started but not yet finished the modifications he was making to the communications console, some of the framework and inner mechanisms missing. He'd have to stick with a smaller holo instead of the colored, full body one. The long distance comms were fired up and Wrecker's heart fluttered when he saw a dozen new prerecorded holos waiting for him, which he was quick to begin transferring to his data pad. With a click of a few buttons he sent a ping to the channel they came from, hoping that it wasn't too late, or too early, or in the middle of a tattoo job, 'Huh, maybe I shoulda checked the Coruscant Time before -'

The console beeped. He answered, and Skylar's upper body appeared on the smaller projector, simply a dull shade of blue and the connection was a bit staticky but once they managed to secure it she beamed, making her look fresh as a daisy. "He-hey, mesh'la!" Wrecker cheered, "Ya look so much better!" He had felt bad having to jet off when she still had three days left to go with her period.

"It's been a week and a half since you left, Wrecker, my menses long over by now." Sky deadpanned, with a cheeky smile and tilt of her head. "But I do miss the piggy-back rides to work already, I felt like the kriffing Queen of Naboo."

Wrecker's grin grew smug. Shuffling, he made himself more comfy on the ground in front of the jutted out console, legs stretched out on either side of the framework so he could scootch as close as possible to her small projection. "I didn't get t' listen to your other holos yet, can I save 'em for another rainy day?" He asked, "We haven't been cleared t' leave yet, might hafta jet on over to another star system."

Despite that unfortunate news, Skylar kept in smiling. "Yes, because that's what they are for, just as requested." She sweetly replied. "Force knows how you find my mundane day-to-day life interesting, but I find my work stories are a bit more riveting - a Pantoran with long, straight, GORGEOUS magenta hair came in for her hair appointment the other day, plopped down in Blair's station, and told her to chop off it all off and dye it green, all the while not looking at her comm that kept going off, who turns out was her controlling mother who's house she was finally of legal age to leave from, and eventually she showed up to the shop -" She stopped herslff, but she was visibly excited just reliving it on her mind, "I'll leave it at that because I don't think I could top how I tell it in the recording and the whole thing was INSANE, but we took care of her," Her grin turned into a proud smirk, "AND her mom, but in a completely different way, if ya know what I'm sayin'." *wink*

Wrecker guffawed, didn't hold back from saying, "Thats my girl!" With that maniacal twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, I recorded a lotta stories too, TECH DID SOMETHIN' EPIC! I won't spoil nuthin', but let's just say Tech learned a new trick with the clankas here on Felucia, HAHA!" He hit the console excitedly, fussed over it when Skylar's projection went static for a moment, "Oops, sorry! Oh," He cleared his throat, still felt weird talking about this so openly with someone other than the family but it was a GOOD wierd, if that makes sense, "And we're okay now, by the way, Talla explained the 'Plan 99' to me better, jus' thought I should give ya an update on that..."

"Well, I'm glad. Because now I don't feel so bad for thinking 'Plan 99' was a beautiful way to honor and remember your brother's sacrifice -"

"OoOo, is that your bOyFrIeNd?" Nik was heard in the background.

Skylar's head sharply turned when he made exaggerated kissing noises, "Get out, you doofus!" Her upper body dipped from view of the hologram, and when she was back she had her slipper in hand, chucked it hard, and Wrecker heard a loud THUNK! when it hit Nik's bedroom door that shut just in time. His triumphant laughter was loud enough to be heard over the holo. "Ugh, brothers can be SO ANNOYING!"

"Tell me about it!" Wrecker agreed, his heart all fluttery seeing her so boisterously interact with her brother as he did with all his. 'We have so much in common!' Skylar folded her hands and set her chin atop them, meekly asked what he would like to spend their precious time talking about. "Anything, and I'll listen, I kinda like just hearing your voice again." He admitted with a dopey grin, "At least don't leave me hangin', did ya throw the crazy mother off the side skyscraper?" *maniacal laughter*

"... Well, now I feel like you'll be disappointed when I say we just called the police, ya maniac -"

There was this funny thing Skylar had learned about the man she was seeing. Previously, Sky thought he'd have more skeletons in the closet he'd not share with her so soon into their exclusive time spent together, perhaps not ever, for he was so reluctant to divulge more on what happened that morning he arrived on her doorstep so gloomy. That is, until he felt Skylar deserved an explanation as to why he was avoiding the Marauder altogether now, and apparently not because of Crosshair and Talla's fighting, but because Tech proposed 'Plan 99.'

But as it turns out, the Bad Batch just lived for the adrenaline rush and working solo for most of their assignments meant a considerable lack of heartbreak like she'd seen him recently experience, and he loved to spout his tales of the Bad Batch's awesome exploits. If he claimed the colossal damage he did in the Wild Wookie Rage Rooms was nothing compared to the damage he caused with access to top of the line firepower... She almost pitied the clankas who crossed paths with him.

Chapter Text

(CORUSCANT - NIK'S PARLOR - DAY 23 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Newly named Talla was constantly asking questions to those around her, and most of them were kind enough to patiently answer them. Her squadron members (besides Crosshair) greatly sympathized because they knew what it was like to be thrown out there in the big wide galaxy with no guidance beforehand. The Bad Batch boys willfully bestowed what little knowledge they had upon her.

And there were just purely kind and experienced folks, like Nik, and Sky, and Blair, who were always ready to help out.

Like right now!

Because she refused to accept the discount applied to Soldiers of the Republic for the amazing body art the Parlor owners did, Talla had asked if there was any compromise, but they refused the extra money. Since she was so inclined though and unwavering, they just put her to work. 'Sweat Equity' they called it, which was basically Talla would be a volunteer employee whenever the Bad Batch docked on Coruscant.

Man, there was A LOT to learn about 'regular jobs.' And also speaking apparently, because spending more and more time away from Kamino, Talla learned that while she spoke fluent and perfect Basic, there was a whole 'nother layer to it she was learning bit by bit every day.

"Can I ask you another question?" Talla once again politely asked of Nik, who was at his station organizing his supply cart.

"Shoot." 

Talla's brows snapped together. "I uh, don't have a blaster?"

Movements stopping, Nik shot her a confused look, but once he remembered who he was dealing with and the mistake made, a good laugh was had. On his end at least. 

Concerned Talla... had no idea her new pal Nik suffered from suicidal idealization! And was so far down that spiral he requested her to put a plasma bolt through his skull.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Talla promptly told him, "There is a fantastic psychiatric program at the Grand Republic Medical Facility I've read about, and if you want me to call an airtaxi and accompany you on the right path to a healthy mental state I am more than willing -!"

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(CORUSCANT: CLONE TROOPER BASE - DAY 26 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Crosshair can and has slept through a Kaminoan hurricane.

And even occasionally taking a light slumber before dinner, for him it was not the light slumber of a normal person. No not light at all. He was completely dead to the world.

Wrecker's first cooking endeavor, which consisted of making simple seared bantha burgers for dinner, it somehow ended in a small explosion that destroyed the stove and oven... and Crosshair didn't stir an inch. That was a feat in itself already, but considering he was a kriffing soldier fighting in a kriffing war that constantly had kriffing bombs chucked at him, the fact he didn't instinctively snatch the hand blaster from under his pillow and snap into a battle-ready position really showed how unnatural his sleeping abilities were. In fact, he really took the expression 'Dead to the world' to a whole 'nother level.

Everyone on this ship wondered why he even had that blaster under his pillow. He'd be completely useless if someone broke into their home.

Actually, that might not be true. If you think about it, suppose the intruders wanted to wake him up and experience the rush that came with interacting with their victims before they killed them or whatever...

Yeah.

If they didn't end up believing that he was dead as opposed to just 'dead to the world,' that poor sucker would be brutally sucker-punched halfway across the galaxy if they succeeded in actually awakening him from the deep dark depths of his unconsciousness.

It was a plausible theory.

Now, why all this buildup you may ask? 

Well, here's the answer:

After seeing her very first spider, can you imagine how loudly Talla must have shrieked for useless Crosshair to jump awake from his coma with a snort of confusion? Then instinctively snatch the hidden blaster from under his pillow when he processed the signs of someone in danger. And staggered out of his room at breakneck speed to defend his home and family... plus Talla, who annoyingly turned out to be the one in 'danger.' 

Turns out his response time could use some tweaking though because the situation he burst into was already halfway resolved by the time he arrived, blaster aimed and ready to fire. But to his immense frustration Talla actually really wasn't in danger, at least at first glance, and he considered just shooting her instead for the inconvenience she caused him. He didn't even know what it was he intercepted and was dumbfounded for a few moments as his sluggish brain had a hard time processing the scenario in front of him.

Talla was hanging off Wrecker's back, no doubt crushing Wrecker's shoulders/windpipe with her arms, and her legs locked around his middle probably turning his internal organs to mush. She appeared frightened out of her mind by something Tech was saying and holding out to her, and was clung onto Wrecker like he was a lifeline. Her eyes were bugged out from the bug Crosshair next noticed resting on Tech's palms.

If Tech heard this description, he would raise his signature pointer finger and firmly correct Crosshair by saying, 'Spiders are not insects, they belong to a class of animal known as Arachnids, whereas insects form a class of their own known as Insecta -' Then the Sniper would tune him out this time because it was way too early for this shit.

Now, Wrecker might have been slightly uncomfortable by this crushing restriction from frightened Talla but Wreck probably didn't even notice, he looked just as frightened as Talla, if his comically widened eyes, eyebrows raised almost up to his imaginary hairline, and high-pitched 'little girl' shrieks had anything to say about. And obviously Talla didn't care about how her own body was being squashed between Wrecker's back and the computer room wall because Wrecker was trying to put as much distance as possible between them and Tech's outstretched hands, and she was just fine with that! 

Crosshair next noted that what woke him up must not have been the first shriek of terror she and Wreck let out because they were both letting out multiple ones each time Tech tried coming closer with that freaky arachnid. And now Crosshair saw that the tunic Talla had been wearing today was currently in shreds on the floor between the two opposing sides, leaving her in just a sports bra. He made an educated guess as to what was going on, based on something similar that happened to him shortly after being deployed - Talla must have had a spider crawling on her, and she flipped out, so now his nap was ruined.

Upon further inspection the fuzzy, eight-legged creepy crawly nestled in Tech's warm palms was roughly the size of a meiloorun fruit and, and no further description was necessary because even Crosshair felt that familiar hair-raising sensation, so he promptly focused on everything else but said creepy crawly, though he was totally over his fear of spiders... and to prove it, he wasn't going to blast it into oblivion and lowered his weapon. He kept the safety off, but only because he'd probably have to stun Tech if he kept insisting on Talla learning to not be afraid!

He silently watched the chaos escalate.

Naturally, tired Hunter was in between the non-squeamish brainiac and the screeching muscular clones, his arms spread out as he tried to tame the chaos with mediating words at first, but his irritation was evident and inside he was seriously thinking about getting his blaster too, also not really lovin' being awoken from his peaceful slumber like this. 

"You did just fine seeing that Krykna on Silva, and this little creature is no different -" Tech attempted taking a step closer to the trembling pair.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" And Wrecker stumbled two steps backwards even though Hunter held Tech from coming any further, grimacing down at the big creepy crawly. Bad part was, there was only two inches left between Wrecker and the wall, so Talla was being squished as the big guy literally tried scaling the wall to get away from Tech, who again tried to side-step the obstacle in his way that was trying to keep him from imparting knowledge on the less informed.

"Compared to Krykna's, this is actually a very small and non-threatening creature -"

"IT'S HUGE AND IT CREEPY CRAWLED UP MY SLEEVE AND NOW I HAVE TO BURN THAT TUNIC!" Talla shrieked even louder to be heard over Tech. Thankfully her head was peeking around the side of Wrecker's head with the damaged ear, so it didn't affect him as much, not that he would have noticed.

Tech was the epitome of calm, now mixed with slight confusion. "Why must you burn your tunic? The tunic has already been thoroughly destroyed already."

Talla was utterly repulsed when the freak of nature shifted in Tech's palm, "Because what if it laid its filthy eggs in there?! And if I just put the tunic in the trash those filthy eggs could HATCH, AND THEN ITS FILTHY SPAWN FROM HELL COULD INFEST THE SHIP!"

Hunter rolled his eyes so hard when Tech went: "Technically, if 'it' laid eggs it would not be an 'it,' it would be a she -" 

"IT'S KRIFFING UNNATURAL, that's what, and I'll call IT what I want!"

"Just take that thing outside." Hunter gruffly asked again, experiencing a new jaw-dropping record on how early he could receive a stress migraine in the morning. 

The brainiac insisted on helping his inexperienced friend though, just as he was doing with the trauma stuff. "Talla, lots of people are afraid of spiders -"

When Talla looked on the verge of being turned into a pancake from Wrecker's frantic jumping away from his brother persisting them again, Hunter literally shoved Tech back this time and growled in warning: "Teechhh - !"

"But like with needles, exposure therapy can help in overcoming it." Tech insisted and to prove there was nothing to be scared of he went so far as to start PETTING THIS KRIFFING FREAK OF NATURE!!! 

It was surprisingly docile, as Tech knew this species would be, but instead of this easing Talla's anxiety the female clone was two seconds away from being sent into convulsions at seeing him stroke its fuzzy thorax like you would stroke a tooka's head. "YOU KRIFFING PSYCHO - HOW THE KRIFF CAN YOU DO THAT?!" 

Wrecker made a sound like he was going to be physically sick.

"This particular arachnid is not even a dangerous species of spider." Tech explained, fondly looking down at the 'cute' arachnid specimen that apparently in its own creepy way responded happily to his ministrations.  When a tooka wiggled in delight after being shown affection it was cute, but when a spider did it made all the hairs on Talla's body stand up, giving her Force-awful prickling sensations.  Tech didn't appear to notice the difference between 'cute' and 'creepy.' "It is a Spine Spider, which are native to the desert planet Pasher, whose poison glands have amazing healing properties, and this male must have escaped from one of the bio labs in the medcenter you were staying in a few weeks ago, perhaps stowed away in your hospital bag and has been here ever since -"

Wrecker: "DON'T SAY THAT!" 

Talla: "I'M NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN! WHAT IF THERE'S MORE?!"

Wrecker: "WE GOTTA BURN THE WHOLE SHIP NOW!"

"Tech, take that thing outside." Hunter demanded this time around.

Tech pleaded on the spider's behalf. "He's from a desert planet, so naturally he just wanted to find warmth -!" 

Talla shoved a finger towards a weapon discarded on the workbench. "Hand me that blaster, and I'll give that freak of nature all the warmth it needs!"

Tech's patience was starting to thin, as did his lips as he pressed them together in a firm frown. "He is not a freak of nature, he is just a misunderstood creature whose very existence plays an important role in his worlds ecosystem -" When Talla started to say 'Like hell it is!' Tech's lid flipped, and it was his turn to shriek: "IF WE SHOT UP EVERYTHING THAT WAS NEW AND STRANGE YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN GONE A LONG TIME AGO - !"

Well, his new little pet didn't like this drastic and negative shift in Tech's calm and warm demeanor, and one little thing Tech forgot to mention was that this particular species of arachnids could... 

...

JUMP!

...

And because Tech's hands were shaking in anger as he defended this fascinating creature, the spider didn't know any better and was no longer comfortable and raised from its nesting position. Its 'knees' bent, or whatever the flexible part of a spider's legs was called. And it jumped from Tech's palms.

And in the end it didn't matter what direction it flew in, Crosshair only saw the creepy crawler was now -

‼️😨🚨🚫 AIRBORN🚫🚨😨 ‼️

- and survival instincts kicked in and he took out the enemy before it could hit him. In this instance, he disintegrated the creepy crawly before it had a chance to possibly land on his face with a single blaster shot, plus two more without a second thought to make sure it was dead, which shattered the overhead light.

A poof of ash, a rain of glass, and a darkened room was all the evidence left behind. And the squeak of either pain or surprise the spider made the microsecond before it was reduced to a pile of ash from the plasma would haunt Tech for about twenty seconds, before he found something else to occupy him - repairing the overhead light. 

Crosshair was frozen in position for a moment, embarrassed that he had shown everyone he was still deathly afraid of spiders, then just defensively snapped at recovering Tech: "Next time just take the damn thing outside."

Now, this wasn't Hunter's intended solution for this issue, but it was a solution and it worked and there was no more shrieking and he was okay again. All that was left to do was lead a shaky Wrecker to the couch, peel a paralyzed Talla from his back, and sit the two down and hold them as they recovered from this traumatizing experience, it just now hitting them afterwards that the spider COULD HAVE HIT THEM SMACK DAB RIGHT ON THE FACE!

Honestly, helping through their little freak outs wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if his bones weren't being crushed from the two clones with enhanced strength clutching onto him for dear life while they recovered from the aftershock of this traumatizing experience, the comforter only getting breaks when they released him to scratch off imaginary creepy crawlys off random parts of their bodies. 

It'd also be a heck of a lot less uncomfortable if Talla was, you know, wearing a proper shirt. He had no idea if it would be okay to rub her back soothingly like he was doing with Wrecker since most of hers was exposed. So he kinda, just, patted it reassuringly every once in a while, mostly just hugging her shoulders as she hung onto him, VASTLY UNCOMFORTABLE.

But it was fine. Everything was fine.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(CORUSCANT: CLONE TROOPER BASE - DAY 27 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

Talla may have no longer been in the environment that caused her trauma, but nightmares were just the tip of the iceberg for the negative symptoms her being brought up in isolation by a cruel mistress would bring.

Triggers were a whole different type of nightmare, which happened when she was completely conscious.

As her days with the Bad Batch progressed, so did her learning just how messed up that Kaminoan Doctors demeanor was to simple mistakes, like say, accidentally spilling something onto the floor.

It was not as if she had flooded the common area, it was not as if she had ruined the holoprojector, it was not even as if she'd ruined the rug - simply misjudging her cup placement on the edge of the table and having to catch it before it fell, the small droplets of blue milk sloshed onto the red rug below, which could've have easily been erased with a simple dab of a napkin.

The Bad Batch could only shoot each other baffled looks when Talla sputtered forth a terrified apology, rushed to the kitchen and came back with way too many cleaning supplies.

It was as if she couldn't even hear them while she put her back, really her whole strength into scrubbing away the spot into oblivion, making sure there was no trace of the mistake she made.

In truth, she really couldn't comprehend anything else but the sound of her heart pounding in her burning ears, her erratic eyes burning with the tears she couldn't let fall, and the burning of the household cleaning product that coated her hands, the scrubber, and the area ten times the size of the droplet.

All because she expected the Kaminoan Scientist to appear standing above, disappointment and loathing and repulsion being projected loud and clear without any words having to be said.

Sadly there was a white spot left behind because of the harsh use of the scrubber and the liberal use of the chemicals, and it took her a long while to let it go.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(CORUSCANT: MUSIC HALL - NIGHT 28 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

This concert in itself was KRIFFIN' AWESOME, and Wrecker was so glad his squad hadn't received an assignment yet, so he and Skylar could have a first date do-over - third times a charm, amiright? He'd never been to a concert, obviously, he felt so sophisticated and civilian like. And he felt awesome because this was a local droidpop band Skylar loved, and Wrecker now loved it because he got to dance and with his new lady too! And she loved to dance too!

They danced so hard her feet hurt like a you know what, this was all so last-minute that Skylar didn't have time to change from her work outfit, partly consisting of heeled boots. Fortunately (as ironic as that sounded) they were at the back of the small auditorium. They didn't have any trouble seeing the performers since it was on a raised stage, but she soon got offered the best view in the house... at a price: getting out of her own head.

She blinked down at Wrecker, who knelt down behind her and told her to sit down on his shoulder, and she immediately knew his intention of hoisting her up. Out of ingrained habit, her fluffy arms circled her fluffy midriff, and her fluffy thighs made it hard to close in on herself in general. "Oh, I - I dunno Wrecker!" She had to say loudly enough to be heard over the music, really just wanted the ground to open and consume her away from ingrained, completely unnecessary shame. 

"WHAT?" He laughed up at her. "I CAN DANCE AND HOLD MY GIRL UP, DON'T YA TRUST ME?"

He was so clueless. Skylar didn't know whether to be frustrated because he misread her (though darkness and strobe lights made that difficult) or to weep because he misread her... because he actually didn't care? And not weep because he didn't care in a bad way, but like, he didn't care that Skylar didn't look like stereotypical twi'leks like she'd seen many a clone trooper so openly gawk at... it wasn't even a comparison that crossed his mind? A flash of a memory of when they first met came to the forefront, of when he openly gawked at her when they first met. Then when on her period, Wrecker didn't ignore her or make her feel like a hideous creature who disgusted anyone who unfortunately laid eyes on her, or Force-forbid TOUCHED her, he was so gentle and caring... And he wanted to touch her even now, when she was a teeny bit sweaty and still in grubby work clothes.

A whole different force seemed to take over her body, and she carefully did as he asked, unable to stop the intrusive, very light thoughts-

Skylar gasped when he effortlessly hoisted her up, she latched onto the back of Wrecker's shirt, but his arm looped over her thighs was solid as any restraints on a starships jumpseat. And those around them of all shapes and sizes were infected by Wrecker's energy, and copied him by hoisting up their significant others or dates of all shapes and sizes. All of Skylar's insecurities were drowned out by his cheers when the climax of the song was upon them, even jumped and danced yet maintained a steady hold like he'd promised, even when the music repossessed her, and she waved her arms in the air like she didn't care. And she didn't, not anymore, for the rest of the night.

And it just sorta... happened. They were both on a high on the walk back to her apartment, and reached her door in a fit of giggles and ringing ears and breathless grins and perspiration. Without thinking, Skylar through herself up in Wrecker's arms again for a big hug, and he did not push her away. And he didn't push her away when she planted a big kiss on his cheek. And she did not push him away when their face's were inches apart, so he took this as a positive signal and just went for it and closed the distance as he'd wanted to do since he first saw her, and Wrecker didn't know until now that you could experience such a high OFF the battlefield until now.

The kiss was a little sloppy and clumsy but heartfelt and Skylar was honored to be Wrecker's first kiss, because in a lifetime of being made to feel like the most disgusting twi'lek in the galaxy, he made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. And when they parted, she cheekily told him with a wink to swing by tomorrow morning, so he could squeeze in some more practice before her work shift. 

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(CORUSCANT: CLONE TROOPER BASE - DAY 28 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

The level of intensity Talla was staring with at the egg in her hand concerned Hunter when he shuffled into the kitchen. It certainly wasn't a sight he expected to see first thing in the morning. Or any morning. Or any time, really. 

He swiped the heel of a palm over his tired eyes to make sure he was seeing things alright. 

Nope, Talla was still there, leaning on her elbow against the counter, staring at the egg.

Finding his way to her side he paused, uneasy eyes flicking from between her way-too-serious face, then to the innocent egg, then back to her way-to-serious face again. By now he expected her to cheerfully acknowledge him as she always did. Actually, he expected her to greet him when crossing the threshold. Maybe even two feet before crossing the threshold. 

And she didn't. So, the intensity levels of his concern increased to unnatural levels too and he initiated the mornings greetings this time around, only less cheerfully and more question-y, hers very much distracted and not genuine. "... what are you doing?" Hunter truly wondered.

"Can you scramble eggs in the microwave?" Talla also truly wondered, not tearing her inquisitive gaze away from the egg.

"'In the microwave?'" He repeated, quirking a brow at this odd question he'd never think to ask in a million years.

And she was dead serious too. "Yeah. What if I just popped the egg in microwave, set the time, and with the rotating plate thing it'll like... scramble the insides so when it's done, I crack the egg open and it'll be deliciously scrambled and ready to eat?"

"Um..." Pausing, Hunter wanted to think very carefully before answering. It definitely sounded plausible, but something made him hesitant in blindly letting her experiment with this theory. "I don't know... Tech's been the one to handle all the cooking once he figured out how to use the stove and since Wrecker blew up the oven." There it is, that's why he was hesitant. Sometimes trying new things without background research ended in disaster.

Talla still didn't look away from the egg, in fact her eyes squinted more. "Yeah I know, but when he makes scrambled eggs he has to use a bowl and fork to scramble the egg, a pan to cook it, and then has to dirty another fork plus a plate to eat it." Now she properly addressed Hunter, slightly waved the egg. "All those dirty dishes for about five minutes of work! So my theory is, I just put the egg on a plate, shell and all so I don't have to dirty a bowl and a fork, microwave the egg for five minutes, then just throw away the shell and eat out off the clean plate with a fork - the exact same delicious results, but with 60% less dirty dishes!"

The twice mentioned 'less dirty dishes' made Hunter briefly look over her and eye the impressive mountain of said dirty dishes piling up in the sink over the last three days, an impressive display of laziness and sheer will to not be the one who topples the carefully crafted masterpiece. "You're only thinking of doing this because you want to lower the risk of having to be the loser who has to wash all those dishes."

Again, that dead seriousness came back, but it was directed at him now. "This has turned into a game of chicken and I'm determined to be the chick who doesn't have to wash your filthy -"

He shot her a look.

"- OUR filthy and -" Talla inclined her head to look down in the sink next to her, specifically at the dishes on the bottom of the pile, "- and FUZZY disgustingness!" She gagged at the waste quickly turning toxic. "Blech!" 

Hunter took a peek too, nose scrunching in disgust. "Yeah, okay, I understand that."

"Plus, I just painted my nails." Talla declared in a haughty huff and with a conceited raise of her chin, taking a moment to admire how flawlessly her work turned out to be. No way in hell was she going to let all this meticulous effort go to waste. On a normal day, washing her own dish wouldn't do much damage, but washing several dozen, all that time with hot and soapy water would certainly ruin them.

There was no response to that, though Hunter did agree on some level - he wouldn't want to wash all that filth either and, admittedly, would try to find a way to use less dishes that would have to be balanced on top of the rest, each dish having to be used increasing the odds of failure. '... Still, this whole putting an egg in the microwave thing.' 🤔 But truthfully, by now Hunter was curious too. "Maybe we should go find Tech and ask him about this?" He suggested, crossing his arms and pondering the egg himself.

"He's off exploring with Crosshair." Talla said, calmly placed the object of interest on the counter and copied Hunter's pose. 

"Then we use a datapad to look it up on the HoloNet." 

"Tech took his with him, and I let Wrecker borrow mine so he could record stuff at the concert Skylar took him too last night since Tech refused to let him use his, and the happy couple aren't back yet, plus the computer is being glitchy so we can't use that either." Talla annoyingly informed him, choosing to now lean against her hands gripping the edge of the counter, face slightly closer to the egg under consideration. "And Tech and Cross don't have their comm links because they're only wandering around the base to see if they can find a replacement wire or something for the computer system."

Hunter drew his lower lip between his teeth and leaned down against the counter too, and for the next few seconds, the sound of Talla tapping her fingers on the underside of the counter was the only thing heard as the clueless Clone Sergeant and the clueless Clone Agent who were way out of their element thought long and hard about this, heads even tilting a bit as they, again, stared down at the egg.

"Well, I still think we should go find Tech." Hunter finally decided. "I heard them leave 'bout five minutes ago, they couldn't have gotten too far."

Talla briefly pursed her lips and sighed in a sing-songy voice: "BuUuT, by the time you go all the way where they are and then all the way back here, I could already have deliciously scrambled eggs, which I'm really, really craving right now, and the cherry on top - I could have my breakfast made with 60% less dishes to try balancing on the mountain once I'm done."

He shifted uneasily, still not convinced just yet. "... But what if something goes wrong?"

"Hey, right now the Republic pays for any damages to our ship, so we're covered - but seriously, what could go wrong! It's just an egg in the microwave! Not like I'm putting in foil or metal utensils!"

Hunter couldn't deny it - the woman spoke the truth and had a good argument.

They curiously looked at each other. Then after a beat Hunter wordlessly reached up and got the last clean bowl from the cabinet above him then held it out for her expectantly. The egg was calmly picked up and put into the bowl, then Talla placed it into its controlled environment above her position, the door was shut, and the sequence for five minutes was pushed.

Then they waited.

And they didn't have to wait long for results. Not even thirty seconds.

But it wasn't the results they were looking for.

By some miracle, Hunter had the foresight to pull Talla a few feet away beforehand, just in case, and managed to sense the danger and shield Talla milliseconds before the big -

💥POP!💥

Except it wasn't a little pop, like when you pop the cap off a bottle of beer or cola. No, it gave Hunter a glimpse as to what a slugthrower rifle sounded like when it fired, and it wasn't pleasant for his sensitive hearing. And the white and yellow hot slop that splattered onto his back and some of his left side felt and smelt AWFUL! If he wasn't wearing a long-sleeved shirt, the slop would have probably given him minor burns and some abrasions from the shell projectiles. 

Naturally, Talla was a wee bit embarrassed, especially when she realized she was squeezing the living daylights out of Hunter from that unexpected egg-splosion -

(sorry... had to  🤣💀)

- and the embarrassment only increased when she recoiled away and could clearly see his look of disgust and irritation, him raising his arms as he fought the urge to vomit while taking in this grossness all over him. 'And my hair!'   He made a noise of disgust as he hesitantly touched the back of his head, and found his hair coated in sticky, stinky uncooked egg whites. 

And then Talla wanted to curl up in a hole and die when she saw the crime scene that was the result of her experiment. The microwave door was broken, hanging kinda crooked now, and there was bits of half-cooked whites and yolks EVERYWHERE, including the ceiling!

And when that Force-awful smell hit her, "Son of a -!" She was quick to pinch her nose shut. "I'm sorry!" Talla apologized to grimacing Hunter with a nasally voice, trying not to gag herself, and without thinking reached her free hand up and tried to wipe away some of the uncooked slop that had gotten on his tattooed cheek, but he stopped her when her good-intentioned efforts just spread it the more she tried to wipe it off. "Sorry..." She murmured again, her chin dipping down in embarrassment. 

Under normal circumstances, Hunter would have liked to reassure her that this was as much his fault as hers, but right now he was just overwhelmed with disgust and wanted to wash this whole experiment off - literally! "... I'm gonna go take a shower." He muttered, hoping with all his might it'd wash off, though he distastefully tugged the side of his soiled shirt. "Might have to burn these clothes though..."

He swiftly left her presence, so he didn't have to see her face redden in pure regret from his unintentional offhand comments. 

"Yeah, you do that!" She still cheerfully agreed though, watching his quickly retreating figure. "I'll just..." Her shoulders slumped at seeing the egg she had to clean up, no doubt in every nook and cranny in the vicinity.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(ONE HOUR LATER)

It roughly took that long for Hunter to wash off all the goop on him and his hair, and he probably drained half the base's water tanks and now needed to buy more shampoo and crap for himself. The burnt egg covered clothes, well, for now he sealed them up in a storage crate to contain the stink bomb. The childish and petty side of him actually considered placing the crate in a random location here on the base and letting some unsuspecting reg open it, then be taken out by this whole new kind of bomb. 

When he emerged from the bathroom, blotting up excess water in his clean hair with a towel, he was thankful most of the Force-awful smell had miraculously gone, and when he returned to the kitchen he saw why - the microwave had been torn from its spot and was nowhere to be found, and Talla looked to be just finishing up her scrubbing. Well, he assumed what she was doing was cleaning related - squatting by the right wall, she was scraping a toothpick between the crevice of two durasteel wall panels. And comically, she was wearing her trooper helmet and gloves.

That aside, everything looked immaculate! Besides the cleaning products resting on various surfaces, and the dishes of course.

And of course, Hunter had to ask while pointing, "What happened to the -"

"I threw up from the stink it caused," Talla informed him with that distorted voice, without looking away from her work, "So I locked it up in a crate and it's sitting outside." She paused, then grinned under the mask to play off being okay, "Might put it in the reg barracks later for kicks."

The unexpected mischievous chuckle Hunter gave while he draped his towel over his shoulder made Talla feel those weird butterflies again and a word flashed through her brain - 'sexy' - and then she went - 'WHAT?!' - and was quick to clear her dried throat and start rigidly picking up her various cleaning products on the floor around her. "I - I didn't take you for the pranking type, " Talla admitted sheepishly, putting this batch of gathered products in the cabinet under the sink, "Figured you'd say to not to."

Now it was his turn to feel self-conscious. Hunter didn't want her to think he was boring, and since he had been around Talla for a while now he'd picked up on an anxious habit of hers, messing with his own hair, but instead of tucking it behind his ear he just threaded a hand through it, leaning back against the counter by the sink. "I enjoy a good prank every once in a while." He put forth with slight desperation, "In fact, I was thinking of doing the same with my clothes-turned-stink-bomb."

This attempt at light-heartedness only made her regret resurface, and underneath the mask he imagined she gave him a look at showed what he sensed when looking up at him. "Are they really ruined?" She asked quietly.

The backfire made it hard to tell the truth without it making her feel worse. "I um, I dunno... but I don't plan on opening the crate I stuck 'em in ever again." He chuckled weakly.

Again, she ducked her head, this time into the sink cabinet, putting the cleaning products in their designated spots with a bit more rigid precision. "I'm sorry, I'll buy you some new clothes." Talla still had quite a bit of her share of the reward money.

Desperation kicked in again, and Hunter crouched down to put an uneasy hand on her back in reassurance, "Hey, it's fine, they were old sleepwear anyways -" His attempts at making things okay backfired again when she jumped at the contact, whacked her helmeted head on the top of the cabinet, and next thing Talla knew the mountain of dishes shuddered, and there was a moment of dreadful silence before the dish pile came raining down on top of her in a series of CLANGS!

Once that stray bowl finally stopped rolling on its rim and settled on the ground, Talla slowly took in the gravity of her mistake and the consequences of becoming the loser chick who'd have to SCRUB ALL THESE, and then the gross residue from the filth that stuck to her clothes. Pitifully whimpering, she thumped her head on the edge of the cabinet, hard, which caused a perched mug on the edge of the sink to shudder and fall down now, and Hunter heard a low grumble of Mando'a curses.

It was a grossly inappropriate time to find a situation funny, but Hunter weirdly did, and had to hold back a laugh as he said, "Alright, why don't you go change and I'll -"

Her head snapped up and so did her helmet with a shove of her hand. "You're not doing these dishes for me!" Talla's need to never be inconvenient made her say this, and she would've slapped herself for the stupidity of turning down the nonexistent offer if she wasn't so self-conscious about looking stupid in front of him.

The word 'adorable' flashed through his mind with her helmet now perched on top of her head like a hat, but he managed to pull off a semi-serious look as he corrected her. "Like hell I'm going to, that's my least favorite chore - BUT, if we do them together maybe it'll be less tortuous." Relief flooded her system at this offer at least, and he was glad. "I wash, you dry so you don't, you know, mess up your nails or whatever and throw a hissy fit..."

Talla resented that insinuation that would probably turn out to be true though. "Seems unfair you do all the hard work..."

A ghost of a lofty grin came onto his face. "Fine, then you can scrape the fuzzy gunk off them into the trash."

"..." Her roll of the eyes and sigh were for dramatic purposes, "Fair enough, I guess."

It was gross, but Talla did it. 

And once the gross part was done... was it strange she actually found herself enjoying this? It was just doing a chore... with Hunter... and yet she was constantly fighting a goofy grin as the reserved man made an effort with conversing with her. 

You know, this was probably the first light-hearted conversation they'd ever had together, actually. It didn't involve her asking questions about stuff she didn't understand yet, or heavy stuff like talking about what was weighing on his or her mind that particular day, per the promise of being each other's support systems.

They were way out of their element, making casual conversation, and yet once the initial awkwardness of ice-breaking convo starters, which was Talla randomly asking Hunter 'What's your favorite color?' out of desperation to fill the awkward silence, the conversation became easier and easier to maintain! They actually learned a lot about each other. 

For instance, Hunter's favorite color actually wasn't black or red like their squadrons color scheme (it was actually chosen for intimidation and 'cool' purposes) but blue was, turquoise hues specifically. And Talla was starting to become partial to the color purple, bright and muted tones alike.

Next came favorite foods, and surprisingly they were both in agreement that they couldn't pick just one to be a favorite, it just depended on what their moods or lives were like at the moment. They agreed though that they preferred simply seasoned things to complicated.

Talla didn't have good memories to share about her cadet years, so when she asked Hunter about 99, to her surprise the floodgates were opened! He went on and on about various memories that showed how kind and gentle and compassionate and attentive and selfless their older brother was. Hunter's facial features were as animated as a guy like his could get, and even so Talla had never seen him talk so passionately about something, nor be so enthusiastic about another clone trooper outside their little mental institution. That's when the goofy grin started fighting its way onto her face and was very hard to suppress lest she look like a creepy psychopath.

But because they were side by side, when their shoulders or arms bumped accidently she found herself freezing then looking away to let a bashful smile come and go, then could resume swiping dishes dry without embarrassing herself any more today. 

Hunter may not have had to fight a bashful smile or goofy grin, but he did fumble with the slippery dishes in his hands. A lot. And he did blush a bit. Thank the Force these dishes were made of plastic or something else shatterproof, for when they were inevitably dropped back into the sink at break-neck speed.

And after the dishes, well, that's where the real fun began.😏 

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(LATER THAT MORNING)

Tech, after seeing the lack of microwave and hearing the sad tale of its demise: "Why are you hell-bent on destroying my ship?!"

Talla, trying to appease him: "On the bright side, me and Hunter got to prank the regs and all you gotta do is hack into the base's security system to watch their hilarious reactions to the stink bombs!"

Crosshair, angrily holding up his toothpick container that had seven less toothpicks in it then when he put it away last night: "Did you touch my emergency toothpicks?!"

Wrecker bounding into the room wearing a brand-new signed souvenir shirt and waving Talla's datapad excitedly: "HEY GUYS LOOK AT THE AWESOME STUFF I GOT AT THE CONCERT!"

Hunter, his daily migraine starting to form: "Everybody shut up -!"

*unintelligible shouting and screaming at each other - three bloody murder, one trying to mediate, and one excitedly showing his videos and pics despite no one caring whatsoever*

Chapter Text

(DAY 34 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

🎯 Crosshair 🎯

3️⃣7️⃣8️⃣

🐺 Talla 🐺
3️⃣7️⃣8️⃣

That was the tied score as of this morning between the Sniper and the Agent in the war so fondly known as -

*ahem* correction - HATEFULLY known as:

🤬'Who Can Deliver the Most Scathing Comeback?'🤬

In order to maintain his sanity in the large ship that had grown incredibly small since the Battle for Kamino, Tech had turned Talla and Crosshair's verbal assaults against each other into a sort of game. He kept a scoreboard on his datapad for each opponent and would keep adding tally's when he felt one had been victorious over the other.

Needless to say, there'd been zero progress in Talla and Crosshair's friendship. There was no effort to make progress. There wasn't even a microscopic hint of a friendship to progress on. Crosshair refused to believe Talla was a good person, Talla refused to believe Crosshair was a good person, so the war between the Sniper and Special Agent was even more gruesome than the actual, more important war they fought in.

Unfortunately for Crosshair, he learned the hard way very early on that he had met his match, and that made his already unhealthy levels of spite and hate rise by exponential leaps and bounds. It of course stoking the barely controlled flames of Talla's fury to a full-blown raging forest fire within seconds flat. What Crosshair refused to believe though was that Talla hated all this fighting just as much as he did but felt like she had no other choice.

So, each battle ended with a tie. Every single time. Crosshair would get a leg up, Talla would cut down that leg, and vice versa. They went back and forth, up and down, all day EVERYDAY OVER EVERY LITTLE THING!

Sometimes it didn't even take Crosshair seconds to enrage Talla. He apparently breathed wrong yesterday, she told him to shut up, and another battle ensued.

This was not a very fun game. And it didn't appear to have an end in sight. But it did its job, and non-confrontational Tech did not snap from the insanity all around him, nor did he have to bury the bodies of the two bickering teammates he would inevitably kill if not for his not-so-fun game. It kept him grounded. It was fine. Everything was fine.

But even on the mission they received after Tech recovered, the two enemies didn't bother to set aside their mutual hate and held a petty battle of cruel wits during the battle! Ideally, it would have been great to have two snipers on this retrieval mission, but with them bickering at each other over the comm link, criticizing each other's snipe-shots, droid count or whatever little shred of error they found and had to be vocal about, both trained snipers combined efforts only had the efficiency of one, barely.

The mission was a success, but there were several dangerous instances that were out of their usual level of control, putting ones at unnecessary risk. And no matter how many times Sergeant Hunter ordered them to 'Stow it!' or 'Cut the crap!' or even when Wrecker jumped in and screamed 'SHUT UP!!!' the blissful silence over the comm channel only lasted a total of a record thirteen seconds. Tech wanted to jam their comms, but then the rest of the teams would have been too, so he could not.

Hunter had tried every mediation technique he knew, he tried grounding them, he tried bribing them, he even tried Tech's suggestions on team building exercises he had found on the HoloNet! Nothing worked. Crosshair still thought Talla was out to get them, and Talla had no idea why Crosshair hated her but refused to be a doormat and fought his fire with explosions.

The Havoc Marauder II was no longer a safe haven called 'Home Sweet Home' to Hunter Tech and Wrecker, but now front row seats to the 'Crosshair & Talla Soap Opera Dramarama.' Those titles meant the same thing, but it was justified with how extra the two were being with their levels of pettiness. If this was an actual holoshow broadcasted for people to watch, there'd have to be a warning in the intro to every episode, IF people could make it past the first five minutes of the Pilot episode, that is.

🚫Warnings: May Cause Viewer to Have an Anxiety Attack, a Heart Attack, or a Stroke🚫

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🚫P.S. If Not One of the Above, Then Will Certainly Destroy Your Will to Live🚫

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Enjoy the Show! 🙂

Or, in Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech's cases, it would cause the occasional day-drinking to bear the chaos by numbing their inhibitions. They had thought their bad day-drinking habits from the Dark Days were a thing of the past and never to be repeated again, but each had found themselves, on occasions, slipping a shot of something strong into their caf for liquid courage and sanity... sometimes it was two shots though... and Tech would never admit it to Hunter but he had actually put in three after that 'breathing wrong' catfight yesterday morning.

Occasional sibling-like bantering was fine, the brothers bickered and teased each other all the time. But with these two specifically, fighting over every little meaningless thing and creating tension every time they entered a room, it made each day feel like a year, each week feel like a lifetime, and by the one-month anniversary of Talla joining the squad, the trio of innocent bystanders wished someone would just put them out of their misery. A moment's peace was a rare find these days.

Crosshair actually showed up to breakfast on the anniversary decked out in his best black clothing. He claimed today was a day of mourning for the good ol' days, before their home became infested with a small pest that just wouldn't go away.

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Crosshair.'

Talla responded to this by saying the small pest was nothing, because their home was already compromised by a blood-sucking parasite to begin with.

*tap* 1️⃣ Point for Talla.

'Tied up again.' *Sigh*

Shockingly, neither opponent laid a hand on their nemesis, or a better term would be SLAPPED! their nemesis. That boundary was not crossed again. Yet they'd both proven it was not needed.

There was a brief moment of peaceful silence today after everyone's morning mugs of caf/hot chocolate when the two enemies took showers, but everyone else on this ship knew that there'd be another bloody massacre afterwards because two people could not bathe in the two separate showers at the same time.

Crosshair ended up missing the allotted time frame scheduled for his shower but decided to jump in anyways, except he failed to rush in mere seconds before Talla got into her personal one and as a result the man suffered a cold deluge. If the caf didn't help wake him up, the cold deluge certainly did and his curses of surprise, anger, and hate for Talla echoed all the way in the cargo hold, where Wrecker had tucked away himself in a dark corner so he could sip his mug of delicious warm caf in peace, hiding away until they reached Coruscant. There, he could scurry away with his girlfriend to a place, any place, that didn't have angry people yelling at each other from sunup till sundown, or sometimes in the middle of the night if they just so unluckily intercepted each other while getting a midnight snack at exactly the same time.

The cold shower was totally Crosshairs own fault. He never took the blame for anything though, and it didn't stop him from bellyaching about it and shifting that blame onto Talla. He was still shivering from the frigid water despite wearing a long-sleeved shirt, his warmest sweatpants, fuzziest pair of socks plus a sweatshirt. Outside her barrack door, Crosshair had his arms wrapped tightly around his quivering torso and tapped his foot impatiently, because Talla took her sweet time getting ready for the day. He made sure to growl, "You took all the hot water." When she finally sashayed out after seeming to have the best shower of her entire life!

And to Crosshair it seemed she had no regrets about it either, if her condescending tone wasn't enough proof. "Well, that is what happens when two people try to use the two showers at the same time, Crossy." His eye twitched at the stupid name stupid Hunter taught her yet she plowed on. She drew the attention of his twitching eyes to the large, intricate, color-coded schedule hanging on the outside wall of the computer room. "So I suppose I must, yet again, refer you to: The Chart."

"Oh goody, The Chart." He wanted to appear unfazed but a second subtle eye twitch he couldn't stop gave him away.

Sitting at the workbench, Tech pulled up the scoreboard on his datapad and set it aside, picking back up his project of finishing the modifications to Talla's vibrosword that they did together, and silently listening to today's installment unfold. 'Here we go again.' He had mentally rolled his eyes so much his poor exceptional brain was gonna suffer permanent damage.

The Chart was a schedule Talla implemented so the Bad Batch would have some sort of organization in their lives. She couldn't control when or how the missions were assigned, but she could control the quality of life on the ship when there wasn't one. So, The Chart was created. It organized a chore schedule ranging from sweeping to dishwashing to scrubbing the carbon scoring on the outside of the ship, and all the work was divided evenly among the five soldiers. There was also a shower schedule for in-between missions and on leave, to ration the hot water as they all unfortunately preferred to bathe in the mornings. And meal cooks for dinners were assigned for a couple of evenings a week, though this was more of a suggestion depending on how tired or unmotivated Hunter, Tech or Talla were from their crazy, war-torn lives. Wrecker tried cooking once and they still needed to replace the hood over the stove because he somehow managed cause a small explosion making simple bantha burgers, BUT he was learning how to make other foods that didn't require the use of a stove or oven, like various tasty sandwiches! 

Crosshair, he was resourceful and could probably cook too. But he refused to. The Chart was control-freakish yet something good for them all, but because it was Talla who created it, Crosshair hated it. And since he hated it, the Sniper dismissed it any chance he got.

As you can see it sometimes didn't end well for him. That first time Talla slaved away in the kitchen for two hours to make a delicious dinner for them all... Crosshair ate a bland, chalky ration bar instead. At the dinner table. Right in front of her. 

In return, a cup of meiloorun juice may have 'accidentally' spilled on him... Right on his face. It was a strange phenomenon, Talla thinks someone must have remotely turned off the anti-grav!

Back to the present, Talla reminded forgetful Crosshair of the successful schedule she made. "Let's see here - laundry schedule, trash schedule, other various chore schedules -" Her finger jabbed at his name written the same color as his heart - 🖤 black 🖤 "Aha! Shower schedule!" Talla exaggerated everything in simple terms and a sickly-sweet tone. "Now in between missions and on leave, after the other three you are scheduled to use the shower between the minutes of 8:51 and 8:58am and after you, I get to use mine from the minutes of 9 and 9:15am." Oh Crosshair knew, he just didn't care, and Talla knew he didn't care, so she made him pay for it. "You must have forgotten, just like you forgot I was cooking dinner last week, but don't worry sweetie, forgetfulness happens when you get older - it's just a normal part of life!"

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Talla.' 

This insult derived from his silver hair did not go undealt with. Talla knew it was colored that way because of the enhancement process and that he was not old. Though ever the patient young(ish) man when it came to finding the perfect insult to tear someone down with, Crosshair blatantly ignored this comment for now and Tech knew he'd wait for the perfect opportunity to return the favor. And it would be provided by picking at the bone they'd shattered into a million tiny pieces by now since the Madam Dictator had implemented the strict shower schedule. "Still not fair I only get 7 minutes."

'No hint of annoyance yet,' Tech noted on the Agent.

"There are five of us and we have to ration hot water." Talla explained again, but with unexpected patience.

"But you get fifteen minutes." Crosshair complained again.

Talla gave a snide chuckle, as if he was the stupidest man in the galaxy. "As I've stated before, countless times -" With a conceited smile Talla made a sweeping gesture from the neck up to draw attention on all her flawless skin and fiery-colored hair that did have to be maintained, "- you can't rush perfection, Crossy."

'Ah, the opportunity to return the favor had arrived.' Tech judged correctly and reached over to hover a finger over Crosshair's scoreboard on his datapad when the sniper smirked..

But there was no joy whatsoever in it. "Well, taking your sweet time clearly isn't working out for you, so we each should get another two minutes added to our shower times."

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Crosshair.' Tech sighed disappointedly at the tie again.

This comeback of course peeved Talla, her face twitching when the figurative lid over her fury barely contained it. Unintentionally, she had crossed the boundary into hypocrite waters by a double standard just created - she could poke fun at his appearance, but he could not do the same with her. It made her feel dirty and miserable.

In a moment of gullibility, Crosshair thought he had actually won this battle, and no one ever won a battle! Yes, he was well aware of Tech's game.

But as per usual he underestimated Talla, and Crosshair was woefully mistakened with his victory when her features calmed back down to fake concern. "You know, maybe I should be more considerate of my hot water usage."

Crosshair made a noise of distrust. 'Right, and I should let Wrecker cuddle me when he's upset - What's your angle, woman?' 

"I read somewhere that lonely people take longer, hotter showers or baths to replace the warmth their lacking socially or emotionally."

Crosshair squinted at Talla in mild confusion, and briefly thought she'd lost her touch. 'I'm not lonely, what are you talking about?' Even Tech paused his sword tinkering to make sure he didn't miss Talla's explanation because he, too, was befuddled at her unusual weak tactics for this battle.

"You're clearly never going to know the warmth that comes from having a real friendship, or even a woman's love for that matter, so I may as well let you have more hot water so you can pitifully try making up for it."

'Ouch.' Crosshair felt like Wrecker punched him in the gut. What Talla said was probably not even a proven scientific fact... the underlying message on the other hand: sort of, maybe, kinda depressingly true. No one but his brothers and 99 could fully handle him and his ways that Crosshair felt were out of his control. It was a defense mechanism, like Hunter said. Crosshair's trust issues ran further than anyone else in the family because of what he suffered in his cadet years, so making friends outside of it was nearly impossible. After all these months he wasn't completely relaxed around Nik or the others yet, and probably never would be, so Talla was also right in saying that getting a girlfriend was just that - impossible. No if's, and's, or but's about it. And h aving his deepest insecurities thrown back in his face, ' W ow that hurt .' He always knew his cruel words were meticulously crafted so it would effectively ruin a person's will to live and all that so the victims would not even think to mess with Crosshair, and he secretly hated doing it, but being on the receiving end of that level of verbal abuse... ' Wow.'

People usually inflicted physical pain on him, like she did, so Crosshair verbally lashed out because his physical strength was lacking compared to others, and his agility was often not enough to dodge the physical attacks. And when he did get delivered verbal blows it was mainly for his 'scrawny' figure or the squad of freaks he was a part of, which did hurt but not as bad as this. And if this hurt so badly, he couldn't imagine what it must have felt like to be told... What he said to her before the Battle for Kamino. Right here, in this moment, it was the first time Crosshair considered stopping this war between them, whether or not he had proven Talla was out to destroy him and his family. He was the only one who could stop it, because he was the instigator as always and she defended herself as always, something he deep down admitted to himself a while back but furiously denied day after day.

Her starting a battle was actually rare, and he hated it because it more proved Hunter's opinion about her instead of Crosshair's theory. Crosshair's brain felt like it was being yanked in two different directions at once at the two conflicting mindsets. 'Argh, this was all so frustrating!' And judging by the fire in her eyes, she wasn't finished, 'Why is she never finished?!' ... Because she's just making sure there's no chance of recovering from this verbal smackdown... just like I taught her how to do.' 

Tapping her chin, Talla gave the appearance of contemplation, and his shoulders that had unwittingly slumped became rigid, preparing to keep up the appearance of not being affected at all by her words. "Except, ya know, if I sacrificed my precious shower time where I do my extensive hair and skin regiment to maintain my perfection, I'd wind up looking like you, and frankly I'd rather kiss a wookie."

'Hmph. Not her best work.' Tech still subtlety put a tally on Talla's score, himself thinking the first remark at least was worth the point, not getting involved in any way because this was just a game, just a game that kept him sane. And Crosshair had said worse things to her.

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Talla.' 

Crosshair felt his strength return at that weak second comeback. The urge to rip her head off was still there, but the determination to not be defeated by her was stronger. "Two minutes on the HoloNet, and I can arrange that for you." That tired superior smirk returned to his face. He was tired. Tired of the fighting. Tired of being angry. But he couldn't stop himself. "Maybe even one minute if I don't use your picture."

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Crosshair.' 

The lid on her figurative container of anger flew off faster than a ship through hyperspace. "I hate you!"' I hate the fighting! I hate being angry! I hate being a hypocrite!'

"Like I care." Crosshair did care though. Quite a lot, in fact. And it only vexed him more.

It was extremely muffled, yet Hunter still heard all the ruckus in the common area from the thought to be soundproof cockpit where he had chosen to hunker down. Like Wrecker, he desperately wanted to camp out there till they reached Coruscant, but the exasperated Sergeant had to brave the storm after he answered a comm. "Break it up you two." He routinely ordered, stepping between them to push the opponents away from each other, literally having to grab their attention. "We got a mission."

Tech left his place at the workbench and called out for Wrecker, and Crosshair declared, "Thank God." Not even caring he wouldn't have time to properly recuperate from the last one. "I'm getting cabin fever."

"It's only been twelve hours since the last one." The Special Agent sometimes made it easy for Crosshair to cut her down, but Talla couldn't help it. She wanted to have the last word, just as he did, and she wanted to make him look stupid, just like he wanted to do to her.

"Twelve hours sealed inside a ship with you is twelve hours in hell." Crosshair retorted coolly down at her, which was ironic considering he was, apparently, in fiery hell.

Surprising everyone in the room, after a glaring contest with him that lasted a whole three seconds... Talla's twisted face briefly softened into sadness. Without their usual spark of determination, her eyes flitted from cantankerous Crosshair to anxious Wrecker behind him, peeking through the cargo holds door, then to Tech pointedly keeping his eyes locked on the screen of his datapad, then to tired Hunter, who's hand placed firmly on her shoulder was literally begging her to not retaliate as they had more important matters to focus on right now.

To mask whatever she was feeling inside, her face snapped back to anger before she stalked to the sanctuary of her room with nary a retort.

'That was odd,' Tech noted. That was not even the most hurtful thing Crosshair had ever said to her, not even close, this was a mild spat compared to the soul-crushing stuff he'd hurled at her. The brainiac didn't even count it on the scoreboard.

A similar thought pattern was experienced by the Sniper and the Sergeant. The former was more out of confusion yet relief at being oddly freed from a screaming match, while the latter out of concern. Something shifted within her, Hunter saw it. Talla meant to hide it by ducking her head, but he saw the tears prick her eyes that would never be allowed to fall, at least not in front of them. And he was certain he wasn't going to like the aftermath of this wimpy battle.

Wrecker was just happy no one yelled.

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It was only ten minutes before their arrival to the meetup location - Christophsis - before Hunter braved seeing if Talla was okay. To put into context, their journey to the Outer Rim planet lasted six hours.

Talla had not left her room at all during those long six hours. For some reason, that mild insult from Crosshair really upset her above all the other ones, and Hunter wanted to know why. With his brothers planting themselves on their seats in the cockpit to await exiting hyperspace, Hunter had to play it off as needing to make sure she was ready for the mission to have the believable excuse for going to her barracks, not wanting to appear like he was taking her side in the conflict. He had to play it safe, because Crosshair was his brother, and Hunter always had his brothers back, but Talla was also a victim here. Crosshair was a victim of his trust issues because of the long-necks and regs, and Talla was a victim to his trust issues and defense mechanisms. Hunter agreed with both of them, but they'd tell him he couldn't take both sides, so the Sergeant had to keep up the appearance of neutrality.

Hunter gave a brisk knock.

Silence was his only response at first, then to a measurable degree of relief the door whooshed! open and he was met with breathless Talla, who was still in the middle of getting herself out together mere minutes before their arrival. "'m almos' ready!" Was her obscured promise because a hairband was between her teeth, because she was still braiding her hair as fast as humanly possible, and her armor wasn't even on, she was just in her blacks! Before taken aback Hunter could question her, Talla rushed back into her refresher to pin her two messy braids up with the guidance of a mirror.

And now, Hunter didn't know what would be proper in this instance, not having a Plan B if Talla didn't leave her room. He expected they'd have a private chat out here before joining the other Bad Batchers. He'd never been in her room, just as she'd never been in his. If Tech had some mind-blowing information he'd discovered, his rushing around to find Talla sometimes ended with him bursting into her room when she was napping; Wrecker went in there once to borrow her pull-up bar; Crosshair was banned from the premises because she didn't trust he'd do something underhanded. Hunter didn't know what she'd be fine with in regards to himself.

He opted for standing awkwardly outside the entrance of her room and having an awkward conversation through the not one but two open doors, this one and the refresher one several feet inside to where he could see her frantically pinning up her pathetic excuses for braids. "What have you been doing all this time?" Hunter wondered as the leader of the squad.

Talla jumped, then mentally cursed the fact she stupidly forgot to shut the door behind her. 'Please stay there or better yet GO AWAY!' She shakily slipped another pin into her mynock-nest-looking hairdo to tame it. "Thinking." She answered simply. 

"For six hours straight?" This was merely a curious question but -

'He's relentless!' The hairpin painfully jabbed into her scalp. "Ow!" 'Dammit, don't decapitate yourself with a hairpin, Talla!' She loudly cleared her throat to distract from the yelp, ignored the lingering sting from her near death by hairpin, and forcibly stopping her jerky hand movements to give off the semblance of being calm, as if she didn't just spend the last six hours having an existential crisis. "Yes." 'Please take the hint, Hunter.'

Nope, Sergeant Hunter was again RELENTLESS. "What about?" Oh maker, he even stepped into the room to be closer to her if she was indeed hurt and needed assistance.

Beginning to sweat bullets now, Talla's clammy hands made handling a small slippery pin all the more difficult. 'Please don't look to the left, please don't look to the left, please don't -' Her heart leapt into her throat as Hunter ended up doing so anyway. 'GAH! He's looking -'

Indeed, his eyes had shifted to the side because his awkwardness demanded it, for it had not toned down one bit despite the concern starting to seep through... All that was forgotten and replaced with gut-wrenching fear when he took in the bare walls, bare everything and the stacked crates in the back corner, no doubt holding all of her possessions. Without a choice, Talla barreled out of the refresher once Hunter ventured deeper into the room, and she jabbed a finger on the close button for her bedroom door so no one else would see inside. The tense silence that followed was unbearable, Hunter silently taking in the empty surroundings. She wracked her whirling brain for a good way to explain herself without hurting her friend more, because he truly looked like someone had shot him in the head - or more accurately the heart.

In the past with instances like this, where Talla did something Hunter thought was not right or even underhanded, there'd be a severe scolding coming her way from a fuming CO.

This time would prove to be a completely different experience, because Sergeant Hunter didn't look the slightest bit angry when facing her after his brain processed what she'd been up to these last six hours. When Hunter finally turned back towards Talla's fidgeting presence, he wore the look of a betrayed friend, knowing exactly what would have happened if he had not stumbled across this secret. "You were going to up and leave? Without saying anything?"

Talla didn't think it was possible for her to make Hunter look almost, if not just as sad as he was when told of 99's sacrifice, or even when he broke down that night after Tech's minor accident. The woman had no idea she possessed that kind of power over him. It gave her feelings of exhilaration because it meant he really liked having her around as opposed to what Crosshair tried to convince her otherwise, and it was also terrifying because the last thing she would ever want to do was cause Hunter pain. It made talking about this a whole lot more difficult, that's for sure. "More or less?" She weakly admitted with a guilty shrug.

It added appalled to Hunter's range of negative emotions. "Why?" He pretty much knew why Talla wanted to leave, but he didn't understand, 'Why now? Why this way?'

By the looks of it, with her hand fidgeting and flighty eye contact, Talla didn't want to do it this way either, her conscience plaguing her big time. Yet she still almost did. "...I thought it'd it be kinder." And her reasoning sounded so feeble now when it was voiced out loud. 

Hunter had to blink several times. "In what universe is packing up and just leaving without saying goodbye 'kinder?'" He asked slowly, forcing himself to remain calm. He wasn't angry, just HURT.

Talla almost preferred the yelling, because the betrayal was so much more effective at making her feel guilty. "I planned on leaving a recorded holo or a handwritten note, saying goodbye!" She quickly added as if it would help things. 

It didn't help things. "What's going on?" 

"It's nothing!"

The pointed look that was her response said, 'BS.'

Talla stubbornly ducked her head to avoid it and walked around Hunter towards the crate at the foot of her bed. "Don't worry about me, you've got enough on your plate." She said shortly for his own good, bending down to pull out the various stored armor pieces.

Hunter had to stop his eyes from rolling. Sometimes her selflessness was annoying. "It's my job to make sure everyone is alright, Talla." He reminded her with the same curt tone she used on him.

"And everyone will be after I leave." Talla claimed, and she didn't have to turn around to know he didn't like this answer either.

"How can you say that?" Irritating silence was his answer again, so without much of a choice Hunter took the five steps to close the distance between them and grasped her shoulder to stop her. "Hey." With some force involved he made her face him, and he could clearly see that same dullness as before. Being this close to her, the usual being tongue-tied happened, but under the grim circumstances he stumbled forward the best he could. "I mean, I thought we - I thought you and I, you know, we're open? With each other? I thought that's what me and you agreed to do, I mean you were talking to me before 99 died and then held me against my will and forced grief counseling on me afterwards." His hand squeezed Talla's shoulder in what he hoped was an encouraging way to show that little dig was a joke to lighten the mood, and Hunter was rewarded with a tiny twitch of her lips in the tiniest of smiles, "But I know because of that help you've given me I'm capable of helping you, so talk to me." He admonished, "Why did this stupid comment from Crosshair get to you more than all the other ones?"

Her stubbornness almost won out, but the wounded puppy look still evident on Hunters face made her concede. "Fine." She huffed, then kicked away the crate and beckoned him to sit down on the edge of the bed. Talla perched herself on the edge, knees hugged to her chest and while it made her look like a scared little girl it offered a feeling of security that gave her the strength to spill the spotcka after Hunter uneasily settled next to her. Resting her cheek against the tops of her bent legs, Talla couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. "Usually when Crosshair is giving me crap, I know most of it isn't true. I'm learning to know I'm beautiful no matter what -"

'Alright, I agree with you so far.' Hunter mentally swooned. Even right now, with crazy hair colors faded, tear-stained red cheeks and hint of a red nose and puffy eyes, he still found her beautiful. She was too distracted ranting to see him have a brief existential crisis of his own. 'Dear Force, what's happened to me??? I'm sounding like one of those cheesy love stories she watches on the holos!' 

"- and I know I'm not a pest most of the time, and I know that the dinner I cooked last week was divine and I already knew that life on the ship was hell for me and him, but when I actually took a second to observe my surroundings in the middle of a battle with Crosshair, I saw that it was also true for the rest of YOU. You all looked on edge and tired and annoyed, and I realized that life off the battlefield has become unenjoyable for everyone, and it was because I started fighting back." Her blood pressure was spiking again. "But me being nice didn't help, me retaliating doesn't help, your interfering doesn't help - nothing helps!" A pause for a deep breath was needed, so she could continue calmly and not rile Hunter up. He didn't need that. Talla shifted so her aching forehead pressed against her knees. "Someone told me that if a squad doesn't have a good dynamic off the battlefield they sure as heck won't have a good dynamic on the battlefield, and his words ring with truth - we complete our missions, but definitely not to the best of our ability, and there's been a lot of unnecessary close calls..." Her shoulders slumped, "So after some crying and calculations I figured out how this is gonna end."

She momentarily chickened out, "How will this end?" Hunter prodded her, confused and with a pit in his stomach. Mentally, he added: 'Whoever told you this and made you think you have to leave and cry because of it, the bastard is going to get a vibro stuck in his eye.' 😡🔪

Talla wasn't going to allow the tears to come and fall again, it was bad enough some had come and fallen earlier, but there was no denying the crushing feeling in her chest too. "Eventually, for your sanity and Clone Force 99's efficiency, you're going to have to make a choice between me or Crosshair, and I don't need data to compare it to -" She found the strength to peek her face in the direction of the sad man, so a sad smile of her own could be shown. "I know it's not going to be me."

The disagreements started pouring out of his mouth, 'To spare my feelings no doubt,' Talla assumed, so a quick hand was placed over one of his resting on his knee. "And I totally understand!" This made arguments die on his tongue, but physical contact not initiated by didn't him feel any better, the flick of his widened eyes to their joined hands a dead giveaway. Talla jerked away, and chose a loose wisp behind her ear to fidget with, sifting the long strands through her fingernails. "I mean, yeah, I'm a little sad, but he's your brother, and you were an amazing team before I came along," Talla admitted, to spare him some guilt, "So I'm just saving you the trouble of having to tell me to pack up my stuff and get outta your face."

Like his was earlier, this dig was a sort of joke to make things more light-hearted, and flustered Hunter wanted to piggyback on the attempt at humor to make her feel better. "I wouldn't use those words exactly." ... 'WHAT THE KRIFF IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU'RE SENSE OF HUMOR IS WAY BETTER THAN THAT, DI'KUT!' "That came out wrong." This was just as bad as when Talla wanted Hunter's approval after her appearance transformation - he never retracted a statement so fast. His hands had a mind of their own reaching out and stopping her intensified hair shredding, and he engulfed her freed hand between his two to show his sincerity. "Talla, I don't want you to leave - WE don't want you to leave." He made sure to emphasize because his painfully beating heart would hint something more behind the first declaration if he didn't. No need to open that can of worms now. Or ever.

With no choice, Talla slid her legs off the edge of her seat, and shifted to face him fully. His hold on her hand was weirdly soothing, but it also shot lightning bolt-like tingles up her arm that made her want to jerk away, even with gloves on. "Hunter, if I stay I'm going to have to be prescribed blood pressure medication." She deadpanned. "Wrecker will develop a panic disorder, Tech will need to see a real therapist, and Crosshair will suffer a terrible accident that you'll either help me cover up, or the exact opposite will happen and you'll avenge him," She huffed nervously, "I'd rather not find out who wins that fight, especially since you've picked up swordsmanship pretty quickly."

All this doomsday stuff that sounded like a huge exaggeration... was actually plausible. Desperate Hunter opened his mouth to tell her she didn't have to go anywhere! That they'd figure something out!

Her free hand raising nipped those empty promises in the bud though, yet a brightened smile on Talla's behalf made Hunter listen intently because somehow, he had made her feel better?! "I know this'll sound weird, but you saying ya'll don't want me to leave, that actually makes me feel good about myself." Hunter's brows knitted because this did, in fact, sound crazy. "There were some times I did believe the rest of you hated having me around -"

'Because of Crosshair,' they both finished in their minds.

"- but knowing that it wasn't all awful, and you weren't always miserable, that makes me less sad about having to leave."

There was a finality to her tone, and it told Hunter that fighting her on this was futile. Talla was going to leave, and he couldn't stop her. Suddenly, holding her hand didn't seem like a big deal anymore because this would probably be the last moment they'd have together before she left.

The solution that she'd have to leave did cross Hunter's mind, and it drove him insane because her leaving would solve so many of his own issues, but at the same time he didn't want to think about a life without her in it. It was terrifying Talla made him feel feelings, but when it was just the two of them and they did maintain some physical distance, Hunter really enjoyed their time together. Even with her occasionally turning into a walking talking medical journal and thinking he couldn't handle a little conversation about her personal issues, Talla made Hunter feel like a normal person, who had ups and downs like everyone else. It was strange and wonderful at the same time, and he didn't want to let that go.

But nothing short of a miracle would convince Crosshair that Talla wasn't out to get them. Their lives were filled with luck of the not-dying-in-battles variety, not the miraculous kind where their problems just vanished into thin air when it became too much. To resolve things between them would take work, and Crosshair didn't want to do the work. So, one of the two problems had to leave, and Hunter would of course pick Crosshair... But he knew he'd always wish neither of them had to go.

To see the hurt feelings return in Hunter, hurt Talla in return and she sighed, ducked her head and the nervous fidgeting came back, this time with his hands because she didn't want to let go either. "See, this is why I didn't want to say anything - I knew you'd try to convince me to stay, but I know I can't so I wanted to avoid any more sadness."

"That would've only driven me more insane." Hunter tersely informed her. 'Knowing is just as sucky as not knowing though.' Hunter's own focus was drawn to their folded hands, his feelings for Talla's making him attempt calming her fidgeting by drawing soothing circles on the top of hers with the pad of his thumb, hoping it'd still be comforting despite the glove barrier. "Where are you going to go, anyways?" He had to ask, even if it turned out to be drastic, like she was going to desert.

"Well, I'm planning on doing assignments solo from now on - I doubt anyone else could live with my strict schedules and stuff like that." She weakly joked.

"I doubt the Kaminoans would allow that." Hunter didn't find humor in any of this anymore. 

The last conversation with Nala Se recapped in her mind, and Talla scoffed without thinking. "No, I'm positive they'd be okay with it."

"What makes you sat that?" Clueless Hunter wondered, reluctantly letting go of her hand. He had to get used to not feeling her touch after all, whether or not he liked the brief occurrences, so might as well start now. A stupid part of him started to wish he had savored their first and only hug. Another, darker part of Hunter even wished, for the horrible second time, that Talla had never come into his life in the first place. He may have been an emotionless blob before she came along, but at least he was an emotionless blob who didn't stupidly allow himself to open his heart to heartbreak. And they weren't even together to begin with, so it just made him feel foolish on top of everything else. Why did he allow himself to become attached to a woman he could never be with? 'STUPID!'

Saddened at the separation, Talla's half-hearted shrug made her seem not so confident for the Kaminoans green light on her plans, lest there be suspicion. "Just a hunch."

'At least the Bad Batch's future is secured, so it won't be so bad following that witch's orders.' 

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(SEVERAL HOURS LATER)

Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano could immediately tell her friend, Special Agent Talla, was not her usual sunshiny self when the two were reunited for this mission. Even Sergeant Hunter, who answered her distress call to the Havoc Marauder II, she didn't know him as well but when they spoke it was plain as day to her that he looked like a tired soul.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the time to catch up. After a quick hug between the two friends, awkward introductions were made between the Bad Batch and Reg Commander Wolffe, Reg Sergeant Sinker, Reg Corporal Comet, and several other reg members of the Wolfpack that would be included in the ground assault/infiltration team, along with Padawan Tano and Jedi Master Plo Koon.

It was awkward because the boys didn't like regs, and the regs openly gawked at the strange men with strange things called enhancements who were formally known as Clone Commandos. Then, to the Bad Batch's extreme irritation, everyone was rounded up into the Marauder II which would apparently be hauling the entire said strike team to one of the moons orbiting the planet V'hiina Prime in the Outer Rim, where Separatists had managed to elude the Republic of a major mining operation for the extremely rare mineral known as cortosis.

Crosshair thought one pest was bad, TRY ELEVEN MORE!!! Every reg that looked sideways at him received a glare, and he was revved up and ready to tear down anyone who dared touch anything they weren't permitted to, or dared talk to him, or dared to do anything he perceived as wrong or a threat. His frustrations quadrupled when neither the reg Commander nor any of the Jedi stopped the troopers from snooping around, only encouraging it by examining the specs of the ship themselves for the upcoming attack.

"I can't believe we're gonna have regs gettin' into our stuff!" Wrecker complained when all around them troopers were hauling in the crates of gear into the cargo hold and sticking their noses wherever they damn-well pleased, interested in everything they'd never in a million years ever get - basically everything on this shuttle, which seen so far already contained personal fancy smancy speeder bikes, and they haven't even explored the rest of the ship yet!

"You can blame friendly Agent Talla over here." Crosshair snarked to the woman next to him, his mood at an all-time low. First, his life was a hell of his own making. Now, he had to open his home, his safe haven, to nine pesty regs who weren't fazed by any of his threats. If any of them tried getting into his room, the Sniper swore he'd -

"Pft, jokes on you - I take that as a compliment!" Talla sassed right back, interrupting his violent fantasy. "At least I'm not going to die sad and alone."

"I have my brothers, di'kut." Crosshair rolled his eyes, nodding his head in the direction of his sulking brothers, one more so than the others because he knew of Talla's plans.

Hunter's moodiness didn't escape her notice, but Talla snarked at Crosshair again anyways. "Please, you'll outlive us all. The spiteful ones always live the longest, so after we're gone you're going to end up all alone on some backwater planet where not even the nuna or mice will be able to stand your company."

Calmly, Tech pulled up the scoreboard.

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Talla.'

The foreign sound of a blissful sigh coming from Crosshair's lips was unexpected. "Oh, I can't wait."

Talla quirked a brow. "To end up all alone?"

"No, you're funeral." And without saying it, everyone knew he'd be more than happy to speed up the date for the service.

*tap* 1️⃣ 'Point for Crosshair.'

'Tied again.'

*sigh*

No yelling took place this time, mission briefing and all that. Everyone was gathered into a circle with Commander Wolffe at the head, holding up a holodisc with the map of the planet's surface displayed, lighting up everyone's features with a dim blue glow.

To his chagrin, Talla ended up interrupting Commander Wolffe twelve seconds into his speech, "Wait a minute," And the rudeness earned her a look of annoyance, "Didn't General Skywalker already stop one cortosis mining scheme?" Talla swore she remembered reading that at one point.

"About a month ago, yes." Wolffe confirmed, turning back to the tactical data. "Now -"

"So there's another one?"

Crosshair facepalmed, and Wolffe lived vicariously through him because one of his hands was occupied with holding the holodisc, and the other held his helmet against his hip like all the other troopers. "Yes." He confirmed again with a little less patience.

Talla tsked disappointedly, "Find some new material, Seppies. Using the same plotline twice - everyone knows the second time 'round will never be as good as the original!"

The concern that this squadron wasn't as good as Ahsoka talked them up to be became displayed on every outsider's face save for Ahsoka and Master Plo, the latter keeping an open mind. The Bad Batch were used to Talla's weird comments... the regs weren't and lifted a brow at her, also sharing looks of unsureness with each other, that were next directed to the young Padawan who recommended this strange Clone Agent Talla and her team of sulking Clone Commandos.

But Wolffe received an encouraging gesture and smile from Ahsoka to continue, so he just ignored that weird comment from the infamous female clone about the Seppies lack of creativity in destroying the galaxy. He had completed several dozen missions that said otherwise. 'Rex, I had no idea you went for the weird types -  Agent Talla a f ew starships short of a fleet, vod. RUN!' Wolffe briefly looked heavenward. 'Force, give me patience.' He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyways -"

"The eighteenth moon of V'hiina Prime is not inhabited." Tech interrupted now, as he usually did when he had a brilliant idea no one else appeared to think of. The lifting of his pointer finger signaled that Wolffe wouldn't get a chance to shut him down. "So is it really important to the system that it stay a frigid snowy utopia?" That was literally how it was described on the HoloNet, and Tech stepped directly up to Wolffe to use his signature finger to draw everyone's attention to the mineshaft at the top of a snowcapped dormant volcano, lit up by a red blinking dot. "Because one explosion at the entrance of the mine could be redirected down below the moon's surface into the mining tunnels due to the minerals energy absorption rate and transmission coefficients, and as such would cause explosive volcanic activity which would destroy several hundred square miles of the planet, but the operations underneath would effectively be destroyed along with it, without the need of two squadrons of soldiers or even one squadron - technically, Commander Tano and General Plo Koon could complete this mission by themselves, just as General Skywalker, Senator Amidala, and Senior Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo did on Mokivj."

Tech-Talk translation: "I do not want to work with a whole flock of regs, or have them on my ship, so can we just blow it up and call it a day? Who cares if V'hiina Prime loses a moon - there are seventeen others." This sounded good and well to the rest of his brothers, and Wrecker was ready to lower the access ramp and tell the space invading regs to not let the door hit them on the way out!

The sudden smirks on the Bad Batch boys' faces sent a new wave of concern through the regs and Plo Koon because the first time they saw their spirits lift is when catastrophic chaos was potentially involved. Talla and Ahsoka on the other hand ignored Plo Koon's fatherly concern cast down at his little 'Soka - they shared a knowing smile and amused shake of the head at the boys' undiagnosed pyromaniac. Talla was gonna miss that.

The Wolffe on the other hand was not amused. And highly disturbed. "Erm, the King of this planet system wishes ALL of his beautiful home world and it's moons to be intact, and that promise is already halfway broken because this was the moon before the first attack launched by the planet's primitive military force three days ago -" He clicked a button on the disk and a holo of the planet came up again - well, HALF the planet. It looked like something straight out of a nightmare, for one half was still a snowy utopia as Tech put it, but the other half looked like it had been blown clean away and in its wake nothing more than a flat sea of scorched land with lakes and rivers of fiery magma on the surface that had once been the moons inner core. "And this is what it looks like now after an accidental explosion this morning V'hiina Time." Wolffe said grimly, Talla feeling a wave of nausea at seeing half a planet blown to smithereens. "The first cortosis mine found and destroyed on Mokivj turned out to be a decoy for this major operation, and the original strike team were wiped out presumably because of an accidental explosion. There were obviously no survivors left to tell the tale, and obviously no data was left behind for us to look into it, but it appears that the mine is split into two separate labyrinths, so there's one more chance to shut down the operation and restore what's left of the moon's ecosystem, and the King of V'hiina Prime offers their alliance to the Republic if we send a team of troopers more experienced with this level of pressure and technology."

Putting together the pieces together for the exact requirements for this mission, Ahsoka received a deadpanned look from her Bad Batch friend. "So you recommended a squadron that has the most explosive tendencies in the Grand Army for a mission where no explosions whatsoever can be used?"

Wrecker sounded a dramatic groan of despair.

"No, I recommended the most versatile squadron in the Grand Army, who are more capable than a whole battalion with any weapon given to them, and just so happen to know how to wield vibroblades of all kinds extremely well." Ahsoka corrected, and nodding to Wolffe again he clicked up a holo of the C-B3 Super Battle Droids guarding the mine, bringing to light the rest of the plan. "Regular plasma blasters won't penetrate the cortosis-infused armor of these battle droids and neither will lightsabers, so our best chance at taking down the droids is using vibros and lightning rifles for cover fire, and we'll slice and shoot our way into the mine to the Droid Control Mainframe. There, we can shut down the army, liberate the moon and begin restoring what's left of the ecosystem."

'So one explosion and we're toast?' Talla did not like the sound of that. She began asking, "Is there even still an atmopsh - "

"Wait, lightning rifles?!" Wrecker exclaimed excitedly and really hoped he heard that right because he knew all about those guns that shot bolts of energy instead of boring plasma, AND IT'D BE SO KRIFFING AWESOME TO USE ONE!!!

Smiling a little, Ahsoka instructed a trooper called Wolfpup to open a supply crate nearby, and Wrecker gasped in excitement when inside lay the beautiful creations of awesome semi-mass destruction.

Like it was a newborn baby, he carefully lifted one out.

And like it was his girlfriend he gave it a big kiss, said, 'Hello Gorgeous' and without warning clicked the safety off, aiming the rifle at an imaginary target on the wall bordering his personal barracks.

The color drained from Talla's face. Dropping her helmet she launched herself at him, "Wait no -!"

But Hunter was faster at yanking her backwards against his chest and swung them around to shield her from being roasted alive, a white bolt of raw electrical energy shooting across the cargo hold and leaving behind a singing, gaping hole the size of a three meilooruns, which created a new window looking right into Wrecker's room.

"WRECKER!" Talla wailed, and Hunter deemed it safe to let her go even as the madman whooped and hollered, "I just patched up the last hole you made in the wall!"

Everyone except Ahsoka: 'HUH???!!!' 

The rest of the troopers slowly rose from their crouched positions, having hit the floor out of habit when the gun was raised and fired. And with the hair on the backs of their necks still raised from the electricity crackling around them, they joined Wolffe in pleading with the Force for this mission to go well. Plo Koon, he still wanted to keep an open mind for the sake of Ahsoka's feelings... and it was not going be easy.

'I'm definitely not going to miss the mess he creates everywhere he goes if we don't die!' Talla mentally fumed.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

It was not surprising that Crosshair locked himself in his barracks as soon as the mission briefing was over. 

Tech followed suite soon after, when the Marauder II was in hyperspace. Hunter, as the leader, was forced to stay in the cockpit with the Jedi General and Reg Commander. Wrecker stayed in the common area where the rest of the pests had congregated because Talla wisely turned on the holovids to keep them all occupied so no more unwanted windows would decorate the ship interior.

Speaking of Talla, the lock on Crosshair's door was bypassed by this hated new brainiac. "What the kriff do you want?" He snarled, for she waltzed in here without knocking on top of that. At least he was just pulling out the case of his vibro stash from underneath his dresser, but still, it was common courtesy amongst civilized beings.

She put her hands on her hips and said, "I want to talk with you."

It was very unsettling. There was certainly no hint of sunshine in her demeanor whatsoever that suggested this would be a friendly chat, her piercing silver eyes now sharp in a different way, a menacing way, and the door securely shut behind her so there was no escape. Crosshair felt a wave of dread course through his body when she stalked across the room to him, but since the case of knives was already open, his right hand closed around the handle of a larger vibro, "Get the kriff outta here before I -"

Her hand thrust down to him and Crosshair allowed himself to be yanked up by the collar of his chest plate, planning to retaliate with a stab to her stomach. But his wrist was easily caught midstrike, and agonizing pressure made his hand seize and drop the knife with a grunt. He made to throw a fist but a shove like no other stopped his blow, the force made him collide into the chair several feet away, knocking the wind out of him because this psycho harpy wasn't fooling around.

"Listen to me because I'm only going to say this once." Talla demanded, swiftly kicking the blade and case out of his reach, so he was left with nothing to defend himself with.

Crosshair fought every urge to cradle his throbbing wrist and mustered the most menacing glare of his own to the woman standing over him. "What the kriff is wrong with you?!" Though he had a pretty good idea what was wrong though and would do everything in his power to make sure he lived to tell Hunter 'I Told You So!'

Tensing, he rammed his shoulder into her stomach, succeeded with the element of surprise and they tumbled to the ground in a heap of pained grunts when hitting the durasteel floor. Crosshair was quick to flee from the tangled web of limbs, managed to scramble to and grab hold of that knife again-

Only to be yanked by the back of his collar, and he gagged when heaved back into his chair with enough force that it popped a wheely. Crosshair wasn't going to give up, but a blade longer than any of his knives flashed into his line of sight. He froze, the pointed tip of a purple glowing vibrosword mere millimeters away from his throat.

"Do I have your attention now?" Talla queried darkly down to him at the other end of the extended blade. But she felt zero triumph. She wanted to use her new and highly improved vibrosword out there on the battlefield, not against her friends' brother.

(Heh... isn't this new sword cool? 😏  more detailed pics will eventually be provided)

Crosshair believed the exact opposite and held onto his defiance even if it was stupid.

"I know you don't care about the regs or the Jedi or me, but if you don't want you and your brothers to die then you're going to listen to what I have to say, Crosshair." Talla advised him. 

Without much of a choice, Crosshair relaxed into his seat a bit so he could nod without having his throat sliced open. 'Keep calm, keep her talking, and you'll think of a way out of this.' The other part of him: 'Karking hells, I was right?! Why did I have to be right?!'

But he actually wasn't right. Not by a long shot. "We need to stay focused down there." He froze again, "I'd rather be a live hero then be one of two dead idiots who couldn't suck it up for one mission and caused an explosion that destroyed the planet and everyone in it because of their petty grudges."

Talla wasn't here to give Crosshair an ultimatum that'd stop his investigation over her secret plans to destroy them. She didn't even know of his investigation. She didn't even know she was planning to apparently destroy them. Talla was only here to make sure everyone on this ship got out of that mine alive. In a rarity during a confrontation, Crosshair was stunned to silence and didn't lash out again.

Talla pleased, a button was pressed and the vibroblade retracted back into its sheath within the handle. The Sniper had the perfect opportunity to strike again but didn't feel the inclination to as she had more to say - or rather, she actually did have an ultimatum, but it was catered to his one dying wish since she came into his life. "So, this is my offer, take it or leave it." Talla declared, crossing her arms but still holding her connected dual vibros in case she needed its deadly powers of persuasion again. "You watch my back, I watch yours, the chances of us dying will infinitely decrease and if we succeed, you have my word I'll pack up my crap and leave. And our paths will never cross again, just like you want." The no-nonsense look he received had some hopeful undertones. "Deal?"

Crosshair had imagined this scenario of her leaving more times than considered healthy.

Alright, in this fantasy she didn't hold a blade to his neck and gave him an ultimatum, but the basis of this fantasy was the longing for the sweet relief her packing up her crap and getting out of his face would bring.

And now that it had happened... Crosshair felt like letting Talla slit his throat anyways, and if she didn't want to, which was the actual truth he now saw much too late, he would have volunteered to do it himself.

The narrow-minded Sniper did see how Wrecker and Tech had gotten attached to her. Talla provided Wrecker hugs and a buddy to have fun with when he was parted from his girlfriend, and she gave Tech someone who actually understood half the useless knowledge that came out of his mouth. Crosshair wasn't quite sure what Talla meant to his oldest brother, but her and Hunter had started spending lots of time together that didn't involve him furiously shouting at her, so it was safe to say they were friends too?

'... Is she really out to get us?' Talla could have taken Crosshair out easily and said she had to do in self-defense when she tried working things out with him, and he attacked her because she entered his domain. It would have been believable, because Crosshair was well aware of Hunter's watchful eye to make sure his little brother didn't return the favor from the smack that bruised half his face and didn't go away for several days even with healing bacta gel. Crosshair was not naive, he knew that Hunter didn't really agree with him, and tried playing both sides to get them to see the good in each other. '... But maybe he was right about her all along?'

Because of all these factors, Crosshair didn't feel the sweet relief. He just felt miserable.

And yet he slowly rose from his seat so Talla wouldn't attack, and so he also could tower over her once more. Unexpectedly, he stuck his hand out for her to shake, and after an unsure flick of the eyes, Talla took the chance he wouldn't use this as a decoy to strike back somehow and accepted that hand.

Her risk was rewarded with no blow to cripple her but upmost sincerity instead. "Deal."

Couldn't backpedal now. There was too much water under the bridge, and just like he couldn't drop his conspiracy theories and trust her just like that, she couldn't forget all he had inflicted upon her and trust him just like that. But the two could at least stop their feud and work together to make sure they survived this mission. And who knows, maybe afterwards there'd be a way for them to somehow patch things up before she left. Crosshair certainly hoped so, at least, for his brother's sake.

He wouldn't blame her if she didn't though.

Chapter Text

It would take five and a half hours to get to V'hiina Prime, and since most the regs plus Wrecker occupied all available seats in the common area, Talla retrieved a hammock from storage to set up in her room for Ahsoka, so the young Jedi could relax until they got there.

Upon entering her friend's den Ahsoka understood why the hammock was needed, more than a bit surprised to find Talla's room devoid of any personalization. Besides a cute loth-wolf stuffie sitting on one of her pillows, two piles of storage crates were the only decor she saw. "Wow, I expected you to be moved in by now." She chuckled, not knowing this emptiness was for the saddest of reasons.

Each pile was a pyramid of three large crates, but with a little bit of rearranging they were turned into two perfect 'trees' to hook the hammock cables onto. Talla scaled the first pile. "Actually I was, but I've decided to ask for a transfer out of this squadron."

Ahsoka whipped her head back in Talla's direction, "Wait, why?" Biting her lip apprehensively, Talla hooked the first end of the cable, hopped down from her perch and moved to the other end. With much concern over her silence Ahsoka approached her friend climbing the second crate tree. "I thought things got better during your recovery - I thought you guys were friends now!"

Hooking second the cable, Talla sighed. "Not with Crosshair." She gave it a tug to make sure it was secure, and hopped down to address Ahsoka properly with a flustered shrug. "He hates me, I don't know why, and our constant fighting made life awful for everyone else too - and when I say fighting, I don't mean bickering because someone forgot to wash the dishes, I mean we fight."

Here came out the Jedi Peacekeeper Ahsoka. "Have you tried sitting down and talking this out?" Ahsoka already knew Talla had a tendency to evade a situation if it made her or anyone else uncomfortable. Unless it was life or death, then the Agent didn't care what came out of her mouth as long as it got through someone's thick skull.

Talla's huff of irritation didn't bode well for a good answer, neither did her shoulders slumping when meandering towards her bed. "I've learned that's ideally the best solution, but I've also learned it takes both parties making effort for that solution to actually work." With a dramatic sigh she flopped backwards onto the mattress. "Everyone else has made the effort to make this transition as smooth as possible, but Crosshair has made it abundantly clear he doesn't want to put forth any effort." The little loth-wolf was grabbed to hold against her chest for comfort, and aching with sympathy Ahsoka found herself perched next to the young woman fiddling with the fuzzy ears of the toy, to stop herself from picking at her hair. "I'd consider staying if we at least worked well together in battle but even then, we can't set aside our differences and it makes things a hundred times more dangerous than it needs to be." Talla said quietly, distant eyes trained on the ceiling, and then Ahsoka received a look wrought with premeditated guilt, "I couldn't live with myself if someone got hurt because of me, so since he refuses to stop and I refuse to be spineless, I've decided that if we survive this mission I'm leaving."

"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Ahsoka carefully asked, "You can't just run away from your problems, that never solves anything."

Despite her cautious tone, Talla's eyes sharpened. "I don't really have any other choice because it IS that bad!" She shoved herself upwards to emphasize her point, face twisted in anguish. "I hit him, Ahsoka." Said teen's eyes widened. "He told me that I was worthless and a mistake and deserved to die, so I lost it and I hit him, and do you know what happens when a person is hit by someone with freakish strength, and said freak of nature didn't hold anything back?" It was a rhetorical question, and frown turning back into a grimace Talla went back to clutching her stuffie before answering it herself, stroking the wolf's furry head as the deserved guilt gnawed away at her insides. "It was bad, and he didn't want to go get his bruise looked at by Tech or anyone but it was definitely not just bruised because he can't really chew food on the right side of his mouth. It's still tender even though it's been a month."

Ahsoka had never been on the receiving end of such a blow to the face... But at the same time telling someone those terrible things warranted some type of reaction because it was not okay.

'What could have Talla possibly done though?!' This was the woman risked her life and her life alone to save an entire planet after accidentally screwing up the mission. She also argued with a trained doctor who definitely knew his trade about how long she thought it would take for her to recover from her near fatal accident, just so she could attend a funeral for a general she barely knew just to support her new friend.

Could someone who did all that selfless stuff do something so awful to warrant such treatment from her comrade in arms? Ahsoka couldn't believe it. But then again, one thing she'd learned from being a peacekeeper was that people were full of surprises. "Has Crosshair said why he's upset with you?" She needed to ask before offering help if it was wanted.

"I think I've done everything to figure out what I did so I could make it up to him if I can," Talla said with obvious doubt for her own words, "But he still won't tell me."

The situation completely laid out before her, Jedi Peacekeeper was replaced with Jedi Commander. "Should I be worried then?" Ahsoka asked gravely, "I recommended your squad for this operation, but if you and Crosshair are going to be a liability then I can't risk the safety of the others."

Remembering her and the Sniper's conversation a few minutes back, Talla mirrored the padawan's seriousness. "You don't have to worry." She swore. "I cut a deal with him, he agreed, and we even shook hands on it, so I think we'll be okay." These words coming out of her mouth, she sounded sure of.

But Ahsoka had to make sure there were absolutely no chances. "What about the others, how did they react to the news? Is there a chance they'll be out of it?" She interrogated. "We can't risk even the slightest of mistakes down there in the mine."

"Tech and Wrecker don't. Hunter does, but don't worry I'd say he's gotten a handle on the emotional outburst thing - his not losing it when he stumbled across my packing is proof of that."

"Are you sure?" Ahsoka pressed.

Talla looked her right in the eye, "Positive." She promised, then made a dismissive gesture with her hand, "And anyways even if Wrecker and Tech do find out, they'll be fine."

Ahsoka doubted that very much, considering she saw Wrecker literally cry during their attack on Silva because of a beautiful explosion of all things. "Guess I'll have to take your word for it." She said instead though, choosing to trust her friend.

"You and me both." Talla muttered to herself and Ahsoka's frown deepened, so Talla threw her hands up with a sheepish smile. "Kidding!" 'Not really though.'

At that, Ashoka her friend returned, albeit uneasily, and with a compassionate hand laid on her shoulder Talla was asked how she was handling things suddenly changing again.

Blankly looking ahead, Talla pursed her lips as she pondered this inquiry and the best way to explain her feelings. "I feel... uncertain." She confided with a shrug after a few beats of thoughtful silence. "I don't know how I'm going to like it, living all alone after getting used to being surrounded by people. I don't know how I'm going to like doing missions on my own, in fact, the only thing I do know is that I'll miss them all." Frustratingly, she choked up a little with emotion. Several flashes of good memories with her friends came to the forefront of her mind, and she listed the specific ones she was talking about just so there was no confusion. "Wrecker and Tech and Hunter -" Hunter's face, usually fixed with a no-nonsense look, that time she got him to sort of smile popped up in her mind. It was after telling him a cringy joke to try cheering him up when he had a rough day, and he might not have laughed but his hilarity and appreciation for the two second distraction was shown by the slight twinkle that was present in his eyes from that moment onwards. And it gave Talla more thrills than the dangerous missions they received. And this memory prompted her to absentmindedly say, "Especially Hunter." And it was out of her mouth before Talla had a chance to actually think about it. In fact, it was said without even having to think about it. Which meant she subconsciously felt it already, and now was infinitely sadder about leaving.

It was Ahsoka who hit the nail on the head about why it was 'Especially Hunter.' "... You like him?" 'Cause if so sorry Rex ol' boy - this woman's heart is already taken.' 😔

"Yeah, he's a good friend." Talla said without thinking again.

Ahsoka perked back up instantly. "Oh, okay!" :D

At this odd mood flip, Ahsoka was given a pointed sideways look. The padawan turning her head away slightly to fight an excited grin. Talla frowned suspiciously, "What?"

Startled, Ahsoka gaped as if she had been caught doing something wrong. "What?"

*squint* "Why are you being weird?"

Talla staring her down only made Ahsoka's flustered state worse. "Oh well -" 'Don't give Rex away, otherwise he'll kill you.' So Ahsoka only told half the truth, knowing the rest would come out once Rex was good and ready. "- it doesn't matter now but when I said you like Hunter I meant as in, like him like him."

It didn't exactly register at first what underlined 'like him, like him' meant and it went straight over Talla's head. "...Oh." She cluelessly chuckled, then about half a second later snapped her head back to the Togruta in alarm. "OH!"

It was Ahsoka's turn to be suspicious. "But I was wrong, right?" She secretly hoped behind a concerned facade. "So it's all fine?"

A mynock caught in the headlights was the accurate way to describe Talla's wide-eyed, slack jawed expression. And it took a suspicious amount of time for her to find her voice. "Yeah - yes, YES!" But he eyebrows snapped together, emotions whipped in a completely different direction "... well actually no -" There came back that sinking heart feeling for Ahsoka, and while Talla didn't know why she quickly spouted a lie to ease her friend. "Uh, 'No' as in: I don't like him like that!"

Some doubt was still written on Ahsoka's own squint and head tilt. "You're sure?"

"Yes, yeah!" Talla repeated frantically. "You just..." A nervous laugh broke up her sentence and she tucked an imaginary piece of hair behind her ear as per usual, "You just startled me that's all, be-because it's an unspoken rule for clones to not have relationships - at least serious ones!" There was another nervous huff. "Can't let anything get in the way of our job to protect the Republic, after all!"

Her high-pitched tone could have been taken for lying straight through her teeth, but Ahsoka thought: 'Talla said she was just taken aback, that's all.' So, "Yeah, for sure -"

"And that aside - can you imagine it?!" Talla should have quit while she was ahead but no, she had to make sure no one would suggest this ever again... OR EVEN SUSPECT! "ME and HUNTER? That's crazy - that would be a disaster waiting to happen!"

Inside though, she was saying completely different things: 'Oh my kriffing karking Force - I LIKE HUNTER!' All those weird sensations she experienced when they touched - the butterflies, even the occasional nausea, that and the nervousness yet near complete comfortableness she felt around him, it all made sense now! She'd seen these exact symptoms portrayed into holovids - ' And I'm just connecting the dots now?!' And it was just not fair - the first person she'd felt a connection like that with, and it had to be someone she could never pursue.

Unbeknownst to the frightened woman, Hunter felt the same exact way about her.

Feeling like her brain was going to explode, Talla opted for an abrupt change of subject so she wouldn't have the chance to further incriminate herself. Awkwardly she cleared her throat and quiered, "Where's General Skywalker?"

"Oh, he's on a meditative retreat." Ahsoka fibbed smoothly, just like Talla not wanting to incriminate her own friend. Ahsoka actually had no idea what planet he even went too, just knew he was with a certain Nabooan Senator and it was certainly not a meditative retreat.

She knew about the Jedi Knight and the Senator. From way early on into her padawanship she knew about them. And he knew she knew about them. They just didn't talk about it, and Ahsoka wasn't about to betray the closest thing she had to a brother.

Nor was Talla going to either. If her little crush was revealed Wrecker's would be also soon after, and she wasn't going to risk his happiness just as Ahsoka wasn't going to risk Anakin's.

Didn't mean they liked the lies.

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Wrecker and regs don't mix, and Talla learned that the hard way en route to V'hiina Prime. She'd obviously heard the stories, just never experienced it firsthand.

Sleep never came for her. It almost did, about half an hour before they came out of hyperspace, but only after being curled on top of her comforter for five hours, having yet another existential crisis.

Ahsoka let out a quiet breath in relief, her friend finally stopped radiating anxiety - 

Talla's eyelids finally fluttered shut-

Only for them both to jump upwards, hearing a crash outside akin in sound to a speeder bike collision.

At first the women thought it was the holovids. Talla had put some random action/adventure stuff on to keep all the boys occupied. Her and Ahsoka tried to quell the frantic beats of their hearts, wanting to catch a few more winks -

Then something definitely collided with the bedroom wall, and whatever it was it was large enough and thrown hard enough for a dent to appear in the durasteel. A violent shockwave was powerful enough to shatter the mirror hanging in Talla's refresher. Other crashes and other various ruckus could be distinctly separated from the holovids already concussive soundtrack.

Shooting each other alarmed glances, the pair scrambled out of their beds and sprinted out of the room.

Chaos - Mayhem - Havoc - choose your favorite word to describe this disaster! What Talla and Ahsoka staggered into was a deadly battle zone, and there wasn't even any blaster fire!

Funny thing was, there actually were a few blasters involved...

Regs were fighting with Wrecker and with each other. There was punching and kicking and sharp blows delivered from their knees and elbows, and if that wasn't violent enough for their taste then they used the butt of their lightning rifles in lieu of fist-to-face combat. Those who didn't want to scramble for a rifle got creative and threw/jabbed/smacked with whatever was handy, like for instance a discarded mug from one of the Bad Batch's morning caf.

Or in two regs cases they battled with two tall thin metal lamps as makeshift electrostaffs.

Or in another regs case he used a chair from the workbench as a shield from Wrecker's erratic movements while he defended himself from two pesky regs.

And speaking of Wrecker, once he flung off the two regs trying to strangle him - HE THREW A WHOLE KRIFFING COUCH! IN THEIR Direction! The Jedi and Agent had never seen such pure, unbridled fear, the men no doubt seeing their short lives flash before their wide eyes.

Naturally, the fighting needed to stop.

To be honest, Talla just wanted to take one of those lightning rifles, blast them into oblivion and call it a day due to the wrecked state of her beloved organized ship. But that would be considered 'wrong' so she had to settle on cursing out the leaders of this mission. 'How could they not hear this?! They could have stopped it!'

To be heard over the chaos the women raised their voices and shrieked orders to STOP as loud as they could.

But that had no effect. In fact, their yelling only seemed to make things worse as a spectating reg thought they were cheering and started yelling his support too, and it just had a destructive domino effect.

So next the women had to go so far as to attempt physically intervening within some scuffles.

Yeah, that didn't work so well either. Ahsoka suffered an accidental uppercut to the jaw that flung her backwards several feet and slammed her against a wall. Talla had to jerk to the side from the aforementioned chair being thrown, shattering the top of the expensive holotable behind her, causing a flurry of sparks, transperisteel, and sharp metal projectiles. 😦 Then evasive action was needed again when someone's safety on their rifle was unintentionally clicked off and a stray bolt whizzed past where her head had been like a microsecond before.

Now her beloved Chart trickled onto the ground into nothing more than a pile of ash.

'Okay, THAT'S IT!' The time came for Talla to fight fire with explosions once again. Ahsoka was unconscious, so Talla's quick solution wouldn't affect her. Dodging and shoving regs aside the furious Agent snatched a pair of noise canceling headphones from the work desk. Chaos blissfully muffled, it took mere seconds to hack into this room's speaker systems through Tech's datapad he surprisingly forgot about.

Without warning, a recorded shriek of an attacking rathtar sounded at the highest level. Talla was shocked the ships viewports didn't shatter from the percussions, same with the pitifully screaming men's eardrums. She was too peeved to think about that beforehand, and happily accepted this lucky outcome. A second first for her was experienced- never seeing a group of soldiers be taken out within microseconds flat, this deafening roar having them screaming, falling, then writhing on the floor, wondering whether or not tearing their ears off would end their agony.

For good measure Talla allowed the roars to continue even after the last reg crumpled to the ground, counting to three which also helped her not unravel from the violent vibrations caused by her solution. The rest of the strike team burst into the room from the cockpit just as Talla ripped off her headphone's. "FALL. IN. LINE!!!" She roared with equal ferocity as the rathtar. 

Forget the rathtar, these men were more shook up at this, and it was three for three on firsts for Talla - she'd never seen a group of soldier's scramble to their feet and stand at attention so fast. Wrecker and the regs bugged out eyes finally took in the state of the common area - broken furniture, broken electronics, broken everything... and then the scary woman standing by the workdesk, visibly shaking in rage from their destructive antics. 

They all gulped. Several were also shaking in their boots. And one man would never admit that he almost peed in his blacks a little.

Said man was Wrecker.

Beads of sweat formed when Talla took an intimidating step towards their line, but instead of incinerating them on the spot she yelled an equally intimidating threat: "If this ship isn't cleaned up and your sorry asses aren't strapped into the jumpseats by the time we exit hyperspace, I'll make you sorry you were ever created - UNDERSTOOD?!"

It wasn't even the most colorful threat she'd ever said, but it was the WAY she said it, rigidly saluting they all yelped, "SIR YES SIR!"

"Then why are you still standing here?!" Talla rhetorically bellowed, "GET TO IT!" In Commanders Wolffe's eyes, it wasn't even his fault that this chaos happened... yet he found himself wanting to scurry alongside his men, to find a broom and start sweeping or something. He comically jumped out of the way when Talla stalked in his general direction, to make sure he didn't obscure her path to her fallen friend. Though he did flinch when she snarked at all the wide-eyed leaders, "Thank you so much for all the help!"

Thankfully, Ahsoka would be alright, as would the reg slumped over by Talla's door who, courtesy of Wrecker, turned out to be the object denting her wall not five minutes ago, so Talla decided to go put her armor back on in record time and await their exit from hyperspace in the cockpit with everyone else, knowing sleep would never come to her now. When passing a reg with short blonde hair straightening up the couch not hurled across the room, Talla murmured down at him: "If I find even half a crumb on that couch, soldier -" No further words were necessary and panic-stricken the reg aggressively brushed off the couch cushions, and one of his brothers, who had two stripes of red hair on his otherwise bald head, swept up the discarded crumbs behind him with the equal anxiety.

When everyone else regained their senses and unsurely went to prepare for battle, Crosshair continued to remain stupefied a bit longer while watching his burly teammate, who was never intimidated by anyone, him and eight other grown men anxiously cleaning because of this woman. She wasn't even a Jedi General or Commander or anyone of significance in the Republic. Her title didn't even specify yet if she was above them in rank. She was just a lowly clone like them. He had to admit it now, Sergeant Mode... Angry Talla... They were without a doubt evenly matched... 'Yikes.'

He'd physically been on the receiving end of Angry Talla, but Crosshair only now saw the extent of its power, and actually considered himself a bit lucky he didn't get his throat slashed earlier. She really held back. He also clearly saw why, catching the twinge of guilt that plagued her features before stalking back into her room. That brief sensation of fear he felt was replaced with that same emotion constantly plaguing him day in and day out because of how he instinctively treated her and everyone else.

Turns out, she really did hate doing it too, just like him. No one was watching her when the flash of guilt appeared, so it was proven to not be for show.

His personal guiltiness increased exponentially when Talla later, taking the pilot seat, remarked to him specifically: "You know, I'm finally seeing how incredibly awful it is when unwanted people just waltz into your life and ruin everything you've ever known." She went to press a few buttons on the hyperdrive panel, unaware of Crosshair having to keep his jaw from dropping. "And even though they're cleaning up their mess, a lot of what I worked hard to keep clean and organized has been destroyed, so I still want to incinerate them." Looking towards his position behind the co-pilot's seat Crosshair was given her full attention, to show her sincerity and regret, and no one else was around which cemented the fact it was not for show. "My joining this team took away the only secure home you'd ever known and turned your entire life upside down and you - you didn't even get a say in it!" She huffed in understanding, "So I applaud the fact you haven't gone through with actually killing me, and I'm sorry. For doing this to you."

Bewildered didn't even begin to describe how Crosshair felt about this apology.

And if his thinking that Talla was simply an evil witch out to get them wasn't starting to evaporate before, it certainly was now. He'd said and done terrible stuff to her, tried to get her to admit to his conspiracy theories, and instead of taking the bait, she thought she found out the reason he'd been throwing dirt at her since the moment they met. It wasn't entirely the reason, but instead of trying to force friendship between them, Talla said she understood, took the blame on herself, literally praised Crosshair's so-called patience, and reiterated her promise.

And in response to such mushy, underserved kindness... Typical Crosshair merely huffed disinterestedly and found everything else more worth his time pondering.

On the inside though, he was wondering why he just couldn't be right about her. For Crosshair, it was far easier to hate someone than to like them.

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As Tech and the HoloNet put it, V'hiina Prime used to be 'a snowy utopia.' But half of it had literally been blown away and it now looked like something out of one of Wrecker's horror flicks.

When coming out of hyperspace, a cold hand of fear gripped Talla's heart after laying eyes on the real thing. The tactical data did nothing to prepare her or anyone for what they saw. If someone needed a visual representation on what Hell looked like, the fiery inferno of lava seas and molten rock plains which created its own tumultuous weather patterns blowing away anything in its path would be a perfect example of Hell. The destructive weather patterns consisted of spine-chilling black clouds flickering to life with waves of explosive lightning torrents, and there were toxic chemical rains of the likes Talla had obviously never seen before literally melting away anything that didn't ricochet into space fast enough from the lightning strikes.

... yup, just take them here if someone asks for a visual. They hadn't even cleared the asteroid field yet the destruction was evident to Talla from their distant position. Tech having bestowed the piloting duties upon her for this assignment, the Special Agent clicked her tongue and said, "Welp, who wants to call Mr. King and tell him the bad news?" She was already plugging the sequence back to Christophosis into the hyperdrive.

Different variations of 'Not me' were murmured within the Bad Batch.

Standing behind Plo Koon's seat in the back row, Wolffe asked, "What do you mean?"

She threw him an 'Are you seeing this?!' look over her shoulder. "Commander, there's no way this moon can be saved!"

"Concord Dawn experienced a similar fate during one of the infinite Mandalorian Wars, and there are rumors of sentients inhabiting it today." Plo Koon declared, and from the seat across from him Ahsoka made a noise of agreement.

So Talla calmly turned her seat to face them head-on, was respectful but blunt. "This is nothing like Concord Dawn, sir, because in that instance only a third of the planets mass was blown to bits and there was no fiery cyclone eating away at the planet's mass." She drew his and everyone's else attention back to the deteriorating moon. "What's left of V'hiina is destroying itself." Pausing, she tapped her curled finger against her chin thoughtfully. "I can't give an exact estimate on the rate of destruction right now, but I can make an educated guess that it'll be twenty-four hours at least before this moon turns into an asteroid field..." Talla returned her attention back to the controls. "Though that's me being generous, and I'd rather not play chicken with that generosity." She finished soberly 

"So, you want to give up? Without even trying?" Wolffe shot a pointed frown at his teenage CO and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He respected her, but perhaps this time around Padawan Tano let her friendship with this Agent Talla cloud her judgement. He was expecting this new infamous 'Special Agent' to be a lot more courageous than this on account of Rex's in-depth profile about her he had relayed. Wolffe started to wonder if that story about her liberating an entire planet by herself was just like Fives's 'I Fought Off Five Super Battle Droids With My Bare Hands' bantha crap.

Talla gave him a tight-lipped smile, "It's called being strategic." She had to bite back a snarky remark to spare the Bad Batch Sergeant standing nearby any embarrassment.

Ahsoka tried to be casual about leaving her seat and becoming a barrier between the two soldiers, because she recently found out Talla could get punchy if things escalated. "If nothing else, we should retrieve any information left behind within the second half of the mine, maybe see if they're in communication with other mining operations, that way we can shut them down too, before another planet or moon is destroyed like this."

"That's IF there's any information left to retrieve." Talla pointed out, and Wolffe was getting real tired of what he perceived as attitude real fast. "Even with all the interferences by the storms and asteroids, we should have seen some sort of reaction to our arrival, at least by ships doing patrols." Talla whirled her seat back towards the console and clicked a few buttons underneath the scanner screen, making a noise of confirmation. "Yeah, there's no signs of enemy ships nearby -" A doubtful eye next scanned the dangerous floating obstacles surrounding the moon. "Though I doubt even these enhanced dummy droids could successfully navigate through that anyways." The leaders were properly addressed again. "Under different circumstances, us being undetectable until we cleared the atmosphere would be a great tactical advantage but let's face it - maybe this whole 'two separate labyrinths' theory is too out there, and this was all just a freak accident and there's no data to retrieve or droids to even take down anymore." Including Hunter, her team didn't reprimand her because frankly they were on her side in this, Tech even going so far as to think he couldn't have explained it better himself.

Alas, to someone who didn't know her it may seem like she was throwing attitude, and the Bad Batch boys were constantly guilty of doing that when working with regs, but they knew the Special Agent hadn't been that badly corrupted yet. She was trained to be observant and shrewd, and utilized this skill in making sure everyone got out alive and no unnecessary risks were taken, which is what she was trying to do now, albeit the execution for showing her concern was a bit subpar in this instance... Hmm, maybe these were signs of corruption starting to show.

Rolling his eyes at the reg Commander, Crosshair stopped Wolffe from contradicting Talla by backing her up in the only way supportive way he knew: by cutting their opponents down with his words. When he piped up and said Talla was right, Wolffe raised a challenging brow at him.

And Hunter leaning against the front console swore they had come out of hyperspace into a parallel universe, and he wasn't the only one.

Crosshair's wore his signature crude smirk. "The problem is going to fix itself, so why don't you save my squad the trouble of having to drag your bodies out?"

Wolffe would have wiped that pretentious look off Crosshair's face if the Marauder hadn't violently lurched and forced him to latch onto the back of Plo's seat. Hunter would've fell onto Tech's lap but caught himself. Talla and Tech narrowly stopped themselves from whacking their heads against the steering, and Crosshair was actually flung from his seat and did end up face-planting against the seat in front of him, grunting from the aggravation of his sore face. Back in the common area, most of the cleaning men's work was undone as they were flung every which way and smacked/snapped/knocked over anything in their line of fire.

All systems went down, everything went pitch black.

Almost immediately they switched back on, except the lighting was dimmer and the hum of mechanics noticeably quieter. Various alarms were sounding, the airlocks hissed with steam and Talla and Tech had to do a quick scan of all the systems. "An asteroid collision damaged our main generator, but no other systems were compromised and the backup generator has started powering life support - we're fine." Tech reported calmly. 

He spoke too soon - the ship lurched again from another strike which took out the next major system. Tapping the blank surveillance screens then a few random sequences with no response, "Scanners and sensors are down!" Talla reported grimly. 

For the first time, Tech really wished they didn't have the bulkier ship. "... Now might be a good time to strap on the external respirators." He stated with that same surprising calmness. 

"Having no surveillance in an asteroid field, I doubt we're gonna need them." Talla quipped shortly, taking a firm hold of the steering to be ready for incoming obstacles. She was not going down without a fight. Call her overdramatic, but she briefly went over the last month of her life and only had two real regrets: Not befriending Crosshair, and now also not even getting a chance to decide whether or not to tell Hunter about her crush on him even if it wouldn't amount to anything. It would've been something intriguing to explore. It was nice to watch in holovids. 

Leaning over the console next to her, Hunter was a bit more rational about things, going through their plans in his head and ready for action. 

Much like Tech had given Talla the role of pilot, Master Plo had dubbed Ahsoka the leader of this mission, so she had less than two seconds to mentally go over EVERYONE'S skill sets and make a calculated decision on what to do. More asteroids and debris headed their way and others no doubt out of their line of sight. "Tech, you and the Sarge go stabilize the current damage!" Ashoka commanded, finding her place behind Talla, who kept the quivering Marauder steady. 

"I need to be the co-pilot!" Tech negated without looking up from preparing the ship for evasive action, his body jerking to the left when Talla avoided another destructive obstacle.

Once stabilized, Ahsoka whipped around to the Sniper, whose knuckles were white from gripping the edges of his seat. "You a good co-pilot?" The Padawan didn't give him a chance to answer. "Well, you are now! All you have to do is to activate the repulsors and deploy the landing gear the second I say to, got it?" Again, she didn't give him a chance to respond, knowing all clone commando's got basic pilot training, "Wolffe, man the guns! Master Plo, make sure everyone else is prepared for a rough landing!" When the two men in the back ran out of the cockpit, Ahsoka next placed a reassuring hand on her friends' tense shoulder. "Talla, I want you ready to act at a moment's notice - I'm going to guide you through the asteroid field."

In life-or-death situations like this Sergeant Hunter preferred to be the one giving orders, or reluctantly obeyed a general over a young padawan, as did the others which was why with tense jaws underneath their helmets they weren't exactly eager to obey these orders from young Padawan Tano.

But Hunter ended up receiving a firm reassurance from someone he did trust - Talla - who said that Ashoka knows what she's doing and to trust her. That was all he needed, so he yanked reluctant Tech away from his current post and dragged him to the new one, which made Crosshair have no choice but to take his place as Talla's impromptu helper, trusting Hunter with his trust in Talla.

As far as they could see there were no more incoming asteroids, but they were quickly approaching the deadly maze of rock and debris ranging in sizes between a small womp rat to a colossal Jedi Cruiser. Talla unwittingly found doubt creeping up within her for her own promise to the Sarge. So before having to focus all her attention on reaching out with the Force, Ahsoka gave the Agent's shoulder another reassuring squeeze. "Just act on my directions and we'll land safely on that moon, Talla, I promise."

Just a fraction of the tension left Talla's frame, but only because she was ordered to be ready for anything. "Okay!" She took a moment to crack her neck, the adjustment releasing more of the unnecessary pent-up tension. "But how, exactly?" She truly wondered.

A look of intense concentration and yet complete sereneness washed over Ahsoka's features. She reached out her hand, effectively helping in reaching out with her Force-enhanced senses. "Just be ready." The young Jedi calmly advised.

If Talla knew her guide that meant the difference between living or dying had KRIFFING SHUT HER EYES, she would've never have gone along with this scheme in the first place and relied on her own training instead, because it actually required using her trusty enhanced eyes that had never let her down so far. But the fact is she didn't know, so immediately reacting to Ahsoka's random directions was what was done.

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The journey was honestly all a blur, and Talla didn't know how in the galaxy Ashoka got them through, the entire aerial battle blocked from Talla's memory as soon as it was over. But when they did end up clearing the asteroid field without so much as another scratch afflicting the ship, Talla didn't need to think twice about obeying Ashoka again when the relieved padawan said to maintain their current speed and she'd get them onto the moon's surface in one piece. She'd ask about it later.

Crosshair wasn't so trusting yet, getting a glimpse into Talla's first flying lesson and wondering how Tech ever recovered from such a traumatic experience. His entire body was rigid from head to toe, and he couldn't let go of his vice-like grip onto the slippery edges of the console. Yes, they successfully dodged and blasted away both seen and unseen targets, but the acts themselves had crippled him. He had never been in such a rough crash landing before that hadn't involved the actual crashing part yet. And the exact opposite for Crosshair happened - he remembered each and every stomach-churning, neck-snapping, tornado-like maneuver performed, and he had zero doubt that they'd be the stuff of his nightmares for the foreseeable future. "Maybe we should wait until Tech and Hunter fix the sensor array." He suggested with a touch of panic-induced breathlessness, noting the planet-wide snowstorm tormenting said moon's intact surface, which was another sign that this place was going downhill fast. The sensors wouldn't have likely worked with all the stormy interference, but he'd rather take his chances with that then with a purposely blinded young Padawan and the amateur pilot she guided.

No one in the general vicinity listened to him, but those obediently strapped into the jumpseats in the cargo hold would have whole-heartedly joined in on the begging for a different solution. Crosshair had no choice but to ready himself for the most important assignment of his life - simultaneously activating the repulsors and deploying the landing gear as soon as Ashoka ordered him to, lest they'd end up being scattered all over the V'hiina system. If this wasn't the trust exercise of all trust exercises for him and Talla, Crosshair didn't want to know what would be. And knowing Talla needed to maintain her confidence to maintain her control over her panic, which would help her maintain control over the ship so she'd be able to pull up at the very last second before crashing to their doom, Crosshair held back any and all snarkyness.

That was a first for him.

You know how his squadron liked those suicide missions? How they lived for the adrenaline rush from their shamelessly flirting with death? On all those missions Crosshair had never experienced true terror, which he found out was a whole different kind of rush and frankly he was not in a hurry to feel it again. Hopefully, he'd NEVER have to feel it again! Nothing was compared to the true terror felt by trusting a teenage girl legit closing her eyes while she used her weird voodoo powers to guide an amateur pilot through two death traps, one with thousands of obstacles hurled their way and the other a gigantic one they intentionally sped towards.

They sped towards the moon's surface with no visibility whatsoever. Crosshair dared to glance at Talla so as to confirm whether or not he should prepare himself for the Great Beyond if it did in fact exist, expecting her to be on the brink of a panic attack like him since she was more prone-

Imagine his shock that Talla was calm.

Her jaw was clenched and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Her entire frame was trembling as the Marauder shuttered from the strain on the sublight engines, which roared in protest to the taxing efforts from Talla pushing them to the limits, the nose of the ship having streaks of blue and orange fire lick its surface from the speedily cutting through the atmosphere. She used enough strength to keep the ship from being swept in any which direction from the cyclone-force winds, and probably had to arduously restrict her hold on the steering despite the fear no doubt plaguing her so the wheel wouldn't snap off. 

But Talla appeared calm and in complete control of her emotions and the ship and Crosshair was, again, shocked. This was someone who freaked out because she didn't know what to paint on her armor, whose screams shattered the eardrums for everyone within a two-mile radius when she was faced with needles, and the same person who lost her cool over and over again when he pushed her over the edge with his bitchy behavior. Hell, this was a person who screamed bloody murder when coming across a spider for the first time!

Upon a brief mental recollection, Crosshair realized even their stoic Sergeant had lost his cool on missions in recent times, yet she'd never gone over the deep end once. Alright, maybe not calm, Talla did get a bit riled up when Crosshair personally did everything in his power to make her do so, but after Silva she never went over the deep end. Talla was always reliable during a mission.

And just like that his fear melted away and Crosshair found himself trusting her judgements. And he acknowledged that if he trusted her judgement, her judgement was good which meant she was good and if she was good that meant she was not out to get them.

'course, that didn't help make this experience any less uncomfortable. Crosshair figured that if he had to endure two more seconds of this dramatic change in altitude from nose-diving towards the moon's nonvisible surface at breakneck speed, he'd either suffer a heart attack or the intense pressure building in his head would cause it to explode, or both. That'd be messy.

Ahsoka's eyelids snapped back open. "NOW!"

'THANK THE MAKER!' Crosshair yanked the two switches backwards. Talla yanked back the accelerator and the ship jerked upwards, both rerouting all their spare strength to contain the sensory overload/panic attack threatening to cripple them both from the never before experienced whiplash. Anything that wasn't magnetically clamped to the floor ricocheted and dented walls, furniture, even the roof, and Crosshair swore for two seconds he felt all of his internal organs shoot up into his skull and mush with his brain. It felt like his head was going to explode, and his last meal threatened to make a reappearance.

Next came slamming backwards against his chair once the whiplash disappeared from the sudden change in course, only for Crosshair to shoot his arms out just in time and save himself from colliding with the console once they not-so-gently touch-downed onto the moon's surface. Oh Force, his head, his stomach, his arms, his everything felt so 😫‼️‼️‼️ Crosshair couldn't keep track of all the symptoms and what parts of his body they were manifesting in. There was ringing and tinglings and dizziness and nausea and stiffness. It seemed his internal organs figuratively dropped back to their proper places. He had to do a breathing exercise to calm down. His blood pressure sent uncomfortable vibrations throughout his entire trembling body, his mind was racing faster than hyperspace and yet completely devoid of all thoughts at the same time.

Crosshair was the first to admit that he would've preferred dying out there over dealing with the aftereffects of this truly terrifying crash landing that didn't involve crashing. Even Tech's crash landings never made him feel the ungodly levels of uncomfortableness experienced right now. Next to him, Talla looked like she'd agree with this sentiment, not faring much better than him, hand shaped indents unconsciously being molded into the tiller. She fought off that frantic state of zero control over her entire being.

Alarms sounded for various systems no doubt overheated and angry, the awful smell of something mechanical burning permeated the area, and steam hissed all around them from the protesting airlock system or something, they really didn't know or feel like caring in the moment.

"... Another happy landing?"

Crosshair and Talla slowly turned in their seats and pinned the sheepishly grinning Ahsoka with glares more ferocious, more heated, more deadly than the fiery cyclone of death they'd have to race against the clock to escape from.

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Just Crosshair's luck, the storm cleared within five minutes of landing. So all that suffering could have been prevented if they just stayed put a little while longer. Thanks a lot, Padawan!

No one in the cargo hold knew what happened in the cockpit. Everyone had remained strapped into their seats, faces as whites as sheets and knuckles just as white since they literally had to grip onto what shreds of sanity they had left. So the moon landing feedback Talla received from the rest of the crew was a diversification of various negative emotions. 

Wolfpup: "DID YOU FLY WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED?!"

'He wasn't that far off.' Crosshair thought, already stress gnawing on his sixth toothpick.

Boost: "DID YOU ENTER THE ATMOSPHERE AT KRIFFING LIGHTSPEED?!"

'Depends on how you look at it.'

Comet: "YOU'RE CRAZIER THAN SKYWALKER!"

'Now that's just plain mean, but I suppose could also be taken as a compliment.' Crosshair had heard the stories over the years.

Sinker: "Wanna go at it again, I think this time you'll complete the mission - OF SNAPPING MY HEAD OFF!"

'Dramatic much?' Crosshair rolled his eyes.

Three regs he hadn't bothered to remember the names of: Reg 1)"EVER HEARD OF A SENSOR ARRAY?!" Reg 2)"Yeah, you know those nifty sensors are good for SEEING OBSTACLES WELL IN ADVANCE!" Reg 3) "Yeah, that way your passengers don't have to follow up a mission with ANTI-TRAUMA DE-PROGRAMMING!"

'Obvious apprentices of sarcastic Sinker.' If he hadn't seen Talla start to shrink under the harsh criticism, Crosshair would've found those comments amusing.

Wrecker: "WAS THIS PAYBACK FOR THE MESS WE MADE?!"

The youngest brother gave an amused chuckle. 'Obviously he'd be the one to ask that.' 

Wolffe didn't have to use words to express his unnerved state of being. His unsteady entrance into the cargo hold and glare effectively transmitted his feelings for Talla's performance.

Wobbly emerging like a drunken man from his post behind a wall of crates, even Tech did not find this crash landing a success despite the fact there was actually no crash involved and the ship was still in one piece. Those stomach-churning, neck-breaking, tornado-like aerial stunts caused the usually calm man to become unglued, especially after that seventh hit to the head, which gave him temporary amnesia and made him forget it was actually Ahsoka guiding Talla and she did the best she could. No matter, he jabbed a shaky finger in Talla's general direction, "You are hereby demoted!" Behind him poor Hunter also tried to maintain his balance leaving the damaged power generator, grasping onto anything in his path for support. "You are demoted from pilot, from co-pilot, from ship mechanic -" Tech suddenly thought of all the damage he'd yet to see and made a loud noise of rage, throwing his hands and stamping a foot, "Kark it! - you're altogether banned from the cockpit and if any part of your body crosses the threshold I swear to every God in the known universe I will take your sword and -!"

"But did you die?" Crosshair drawled unexpectedly, noticing Talla's face twitch in sadness from the undue harsh criticism.

You could have heard a pin drop from the silence when he came to her defense. And when the dizziness won the battle with Hunter, his face-plant onto the durasteel floor was unfortunately heard and plainly seen by all. Only Plo Koon and Ahsoka scurried to the unmoving form of the fallen Sergeant.

"What?" Tech snapped at Crosshair.

Wide-eyed Talla watched Crosshair fold his arms and with a mischievous twinkle he leered at Tech. "Did. You. Die?" He enunciated, as if he was talking to a less intelligent being 

This of course never failed to peeve the intelligent man. "I would've preferred death over being so humiliated!" He snapped towards Talla who shrunk back. "I taught you better than that!"

Talla was reliving her first public reprimanding, and Crosshair was going to have none of that. He rolled his eyes as if Tech was the biggest drama queen in the universe. "Don't we live for the adrenaline rush? Is that not our one reason for showing up to work every time we're called?" He smirked at his heaving brother, "Heh, I doubt you'll feel a rush like that ever again."

Talla never did end up asking if that was meant as a compliment... or an insult. In Crosshair's eyes, it was kind of both, but Talla decided to think it was the former and it succeeded in making her regrow the backbone she'd acquired over the course of the last month.

When Tech raged on, "Your damn right I won't because if she so much as looks into the cockpit -"

"Hey, I'd like to see you do better without any sensors!" She snapped. 

"I doubt you could do better." Crosshair agreed with her, "We'd have to weld Sergeant Blondie over here to the front of the ship and he'd transmit any potential threats he 'scans' through the comms."

Tech's eyes narrowed into slits at this blatant pass about his exceptional piloting abilities... and also everything that happened before the landing came rushing back made him feel humiliated all over again. And Sergeant Sinker would have used a welder for more violent purposes on 'Croissants' face if he wasn't still paralyzed in his seat.

Upright again and mostly recovered, Hunter half-heartedly pushed the Jedi's concerns away and approached the bickering trio with as much dignity as he could muster, spacy head held high and rigid shoulders squared. And he was in time to see Talla give a short laugh and nudge Crosshair's side good-naturedly. "Heh, good one Cross!"

Hunter did a double take. 'Um - Did they just - Yes - they made physical contact... and it wasn't to inflict pain on one another.' Maybe he wasn't so okay after all? Maybe he needed to lie down?

Crosshair's smirk turned playful instead of snarky as he kindly - KINDLY?! - acknowledged the woman of his nightmares. "Why thank you, Tal." Snarkiness returned, mixed with that playfulness, and it was thrown back at the wide-eyed brothers. "My humor is grossly underappreciated within this squadron."

'CROSS?! T AL?!?!' Hunter and Tech shared baffled looks, then gawked at the two new best friends. To be fair, Talla had no idea what was going on either, just went along with it because it was much more enjoyable to PLAYFULLY banter with Crosshair than  abusively banter with Crosshair.

Feeling very much uncomfortable, Plo interjected and reminded Ahsoka that time was of the essence and asked the padawan what the next phase of her plan was. With no map of the mine or an exact location for the entrance either, the answer to Plo's question was that since the storm cleared one person with enhanced senses should find and then scout the entrance to the mine, with Crosshair as their eyes in the sky. There they could find a droid socket, download a map of the labyrinth, then use this information to see what they were up against and plan the best offense.

"Talla and I can do it." Crosshair casually volunteered, as if it was a no brainer.

O_o

Next to him with a curled pointer finger on her chin again, Talla mindlessly hummed in agreement, giving a firm nod and smile for good measure. "Sounds good 'n easy."

To Hunter it didn't. "Oh yes, that's exactly what we need: you, him and no witnesses." Belaying that comment, the Sergeant sharply gestured between him and the adjacent sniper. "You and I will go, and Talla stays here to help Tech with repairs."

"Oh, but Techie has made it quite clear that he does not value Agent Talla's exceptional skills." Crosshair infuriatingly continued with his slow and degrading speech from earlier. 'Techie' eyes briefly shot up from his datapad to pin Crosshair with another irked glare but the Sniper was not intimidated in the slightest. "I for one trust that she'll be in and out with that map, which is more than I can say for you or anyone else on this ship who isn't Techie, who as you just stated will be too busy with the repairs to get the map himself."

The short chuckle he got from Hunter was not because he was amused. Well, maybe he was, but it was not the normal type of amusement. He had a raging headache and various other side effects from that crash landing, and because this just all felt like the punchline of a bad joke so NO, he was not amused. Cynical Hunter put his hands on his hips, "Right, okay, so we're going to pretend that you two haven't been trying to kill each other since the first day you met? That you're suddenly best friends who can travel through the unoccupied, God-forsaken land between here and the mine without committing homicide and having the means to cover your tracks? You think I'm going to give you perfect opportunity to do it? How stupid do you think I am?"

Just when everyone thought the weirdness had piqued after that random, open admittance of trust, a word he exclusively kept for his brothers only, Crosshair returned the chuckle, shifted his helmet to be held against his left hip and unexpectedly placed his forearm on Talla's left shoulder, their drastic height difference making her the perfect human crutch he could playfully lean against. "Tch, and I thought Tech was the drama queen." He jokingly remarked down to her.

Hunter's left eye twitched.

The trust comment didn't escape Talla's notice, nor did the closest thing to a hug that she would ever get from Crosshair. 'HE TRUSTED ME!!!!!' 😀😁😃😄😆😊🤯🥳 Most of the anger she felt towards him dissipated from existence just like that, only because the final thing needed for its loss entirely was an actual apology. How or why this trust happened eluded her, but she didn't care and figured it was best not to ask questions right now. This trust made her soar with happiness and riddled with confusion. "For real though!" She teased back in reference to the progressing joke, her returned smirk genuinely playful. Faux hurt feelings next morphed her features which sent off alarm bells in Hunter's head. "You know what, I actually feel kind of insulted." Was admitted to the tall man she supported, and she placed a hand over her supposed wounded heart.

"Why's that?" He responded with just as much fakeness. 

By now someone should have intervened because hey, THE PLANET WAS BEING EATEN ALIVE AS THEY SPOKE! But like... They couldn't. They didn't know what in the galaxy they were watching.

Talla managed to sound hurt and condescending towards Hunter at the same time. "Well, would it make sense to kill you in a way that everyone would instantaneously know it was me who did it?" She made a steeple with her hands, as if she was pondering one of life's deep questions. "I mean, if I were to kill you, would it not make more sense that I'd do it in a way where it could never be traced back to me, nor would the theory even cross their minds? Is this not a direct insult to the exceptional skills you, another exceptional being, said I have?"

The threat/not threat dilemma Crosshair now faced was obviously payback for the insult/not insult he made earlier, and instead of being taken aback it fueled his insolence. "I see your point." He shot a dirty look to his jaw-slacken brothers. "We're both underappreciated."

REALLY liking these new positive interactions, Talla crossed her own arms and copied his attitude, even throwing in an insulted 'Hmph!'

... 

Wrecker cautiously cut through the circle of soldiers and each of his massive hands were placed against their respective foreheads.

Wrecker knew he hated face touching above all else. Crosshair's eyes darkened at the physical contact he didn't initiate. "Are you fond of that hand?" He growled in warning.

"You guys don't have fevers..." Wrecker blatantly ignored.

"Why would you think that Wreck?" Talla wondered with an innocent, awkward attempt of tilting her head.

Just like Crosshair her questions was ignored, and Wrecker briefly touched his own forehead to check his personal temperature then pressed her and Crosshair's foreheads again, more forcibly because of they weren't sick then, "Then why else would you guys' be all nice with each other?!" Wrecker fretted, "This morning you guys were fighting over water and now your, like, friends!" He recoiled his hands and himself and shivered in fear, "It's givin' me the heebie jeebies!"

"We're not friends." Talla immediately assumed, and Hunter raised a questioning brow while the man leaning against her mentally spaced out for a second, thinking about this unsure correction on her part. "We're allies, which is why I can confidently say - we'll get that map without any problems."

"Actually, I'd say we've crossed into the waters of being... mutually respectful comrades." And seeing the good side to her crude sense of humor on top of everything else that happened today, he mentally added, 'Finally, I've met someone of equal repartee.'

These heart fluttering's from pure elation could go head-to-head with the one's Talla experienced with Hunter. It was true, she had always respected his skills as a soldier, and Crosshair now suddenly respected hers. 'HURRAY!!!' She kept her cool though, and haughtily retorted. "Duh, of course!" The still jaw-slackened men were tsked at. "Keep up, guys, we get tired of having to explain everything."

Crosshair feigned a sigh of sadness, "Well, when you get older -" He shrugged his free shoulder in pity.

Now he was only, technically, nine days, fifty-six minutes, twenty-one seconds younger than Tech, and the others were roughly between two-three hours apart, but being aged five times the rate of normal humans that counted for a lot of time in Crosshair's mind. He used said slight age differences in his favor at every given chance in payback for all the Baby Brother jokes and the tyranny that came from the gross misuse of power by his quote unquote Big Brothers.

Talla played right along. "Then I suppose there are benefits to being the youngest -"

"The storm is over!" Hunter harshly declared.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Crosshair jested.

"He's only a Sergeant, don't get his hopes up." Crosshair smirked admiringly down at Talla and even gave another short, breathy chuckle for that swift comeback which didn't insult him, rather the belittled man whose jaw clenched while he began counting to ten.

Hunter was hovering somewhere in the high thirties by the time Ahsoka found her voice. "So, you should uhh... get going?"

In hindsight with the crude joking, Talla may have laid it on a little thick, and felt bad for being so mean to the guy she was crushing on, but to be fair this was uncharted territory with Crosshair and based on previous experience was bound to make a few mistakes. And now that the euphoria was wearing off it occurred to her that she shouldn't be so trusting so fast.

Crosshair hadn't earned her trust yet. So to show the sniper they were still on shaky grounds, Talla called him that stupid nickname. "Let's get this show on the road, Crossy!" She double tapped her knuckles against his chest plate to beckon him to follow her.

Her helmet now covered her smirk as his disdain for her noticeably made a brief comeback. "Try and keep up, cyar'ika." Crosshair growled into her auditory sensor when he caught up. 

"What have you done?" Tech asked Hunter despairingly as soon as they were out of earshot.

Hunter blinked at him a few times, "What have I done?" He repeated slowly, incredulously, hoping he had not heard right, for Tech was not actually suggesting this was HIS fault. 

Oh Tech was not suggesting, he was outright accusing. "You were the one who kept pressuring them to become friends, and now look what's become of it - you should have given up hope like the rest of us because now, there are two of them."

All healthy coloring faded from Wrecker's face, as did his already dwindling hope for the future. "Oh my kriff, I think I preferred the fighting."

While the brothers bickered over whose fault it was, the probability for the universe exploding, possible schemes to get the two at each other's throats again, Wolffe started mentally going over the speech he'd be giving once he got a chance to speak with smitten Captain Rex again.

Rex may have given a profile to Wolffe about this Agent Talla, well now Wolffe had one too and it could be summed up with two words he had already stated before this depth of her crazy was revealed and as such the depth of crazy for the mental institution for a family she came with:

'RUN REX!!!!'

Chapter Text

(TODAY)

It was a bit drastic, what it would take for Talla to finally trust Crosshair with more than just his exceptional combat skills.vBut looking back now, after everything that had happened between them since the moment they met, everyone admitted it really couldn't have happened any other way, considering that a life-or-death situation is what it took for Crosshair in the first place.

I guess it was only natural it'd have to be the same for Talla.

During the battle, Talla found her place at the forefront with Hunter, Tech and Wrecker and Ahsoka. It was in accordance with their agreement that Crosshair was not too far behind his former nemesis.

Not that SHE really needed HIS HELP though, the woman was practically a kriffing Jedi.

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(V'HIINA PRIME - 2 DAYS AGO - LATE MORNING V.T.)

The Clone Agents highly unusual, superhuman agility didn't go unnoticed by Master Plo.

When the entire strike team skulked around the mine shaft later on, Talla and Crosshair immediately noted the two vibrosword wielding, cortosis infused BX Commando Droids guarding the entrance that weren't there before. Obviously, the tactical droid running the mine realized their earlier snooping, the mines sensors apparently still active despite the previous days' destruction. You'd think it only be natural for one of the Jedi to handle the Commandos as opposed to an 'inexperienced clone trooper.'

Nope, Talla happily beat Ahsoka and Master Plo to the punch! And because of her eagerness for some action, Plo got to shrewdly observe this Special Agent Clone in action. She darted from their observation point, pulling out connected hilts strangely similar to lightsabers, and on each end extended purple sword blades into a vibro version of a saberstaff.

Plo's eyes narrowed in perturbed curiosity. He realized that her weapon and calculated technique not only highly mimicked Jedi lightsabers and lightsaber combat, but her aggressiveness, well, P lo noted that the whirlwind of her dual blades mimicked the style of the Jedi's very own Temple Guards. Yet that is where the similarities ended, her fighting style more like the aggressive seventh lightsaber form, Juyo. This type of form was a highly contradictory style that was strongly frowned upon, and even the modified version was not known by many, those choosing to use it having a high risk of turning to the dark side.

But considering she wasn't a Jedi, let alone a fallen Jedi, then how did SHE learn such similar lightsaber combat?

Even with these concerning 'Sith tendencies,' her sword fighting style was unique in its own way because of her enhanced strength, thus rendering the two BX Commandos to mere sparking scrap piles within seconds after engaging them.

As a result Master Plo didn't start worrying then. It was down in the mine when he did.

With the massive amounts of technology needed the mine cortosis, the tunnels weren't as cramped as regular ones, so the Agent was able to do jumps, flips, and tricks with the skill, agility, and coordination of a Terrelian Jango Jumper! And it didn't look to be very taxing on her at first - by the stars, she looked to be having fun with it! Down in cortosis mines, organic beings had to wear external respirators and filtering systems. There were bad side effects of breathing the cortosis particles - it would quickly accumulate in their systems and cause hair loss, terrible sickness and eventually, well, 💀 death 💀bWith enough practice, lots of sentient species had the capability of being as acrobatic as Talla was, but to Master Plo's knowledge regular clone troopers never got said training. It seemed that whatever training she got was exclusive for an enhanced soldier like her, so fine-tuned that even like a Jedi, she could sense an attack before it came, blaster bolt or droid punch alike.

Then seeing her disconnect her dual blades and absorb as opposed to deflecting blaster bolts, but still very similar to one of the Jedi trademarks, that is what really sent the alarms off in Plo's head, especially as she, for the rest of the  battle, mimicked Lightsaber Combat Form V: Shien. By the Moons of Gozgo, Plo swore he was looking at the older, human version of Ahsoka! Who across the way was oblivious to the oddity of this all and was having fun as she always attempted to do on missions, something her Master taught her to make her feel less uneasy.

In the midst of all the calamity Plo Koon would swear on the graves of all his fallen men and Jedi comrades that he felt a ripple in the Force, and not a good one. Down here in the hot, muggy mines he felt an undeniable chill to the bone he couldn't explain. To ease his mind for now, he made another observation to tame the cold - in all fairness the Clone Sergeant was impressively agile and handy with a blade himself, as was the goggled one, each doing stunts one might consider unsafe and risky just for the sheer thrill of it all. Enhanced soldiers must've had a certain edge to them and gotten the special training for the high levels of skill they possessed.

Still, perhaps the Kel Dor Jedi Master would meditate about this later.

Ahead of him, Crosshair hated this lightning rifle so kriffing much. The electricity bolts were not as precise as his Firepuncher nor did this have a scope, not that it was an issue for an exceptionable Sniper like him, just was different and uncomfortable and he would have preferred being sure and comfortable down here in this volatile hell pit. He was fully capable doing close combat of course, but everyone had their preferences - Hunter preferred extremely close combat with his vibros which is why he was up there at the front. Wrecker liked creating the most chaos and ran for it at full force, blaster or not, close combat or not, and said man was laughing maniacally as he felt like a Sith Lord who could wield lightning with this cursed rifle. And Tech was a little calmer and more calculating but only because he wanted to create the most damage in less time, which gave him the most thrills.

But even Tech was peeved too, the forbidden explosives making this whole experience a bit dull, despite the fiery cyclone of death at their tails and hundreds of reinforced Super Battle Droids hailing a deluge of unending red blaster bolts at them. And because of all the pesky regs getting in the way, Tech couldn't risk using droid poppers to even the odds lest he take out some of the other men along with them... not that he would have complained though, which was surprisingly dark for Tech. Except buzzkill Commander Wolffe made sure to let them know he and the Jedi were in charge and that everyone was getting out of this hell pit alive because there'd be no shenanigans whatsoever.

Blast it though, will all these pesky regs getting in the way it was hard for Crosshair to hold back his trigger-happy tendencies when he had such a clean shot of 'em too. 

But he did, and stayed close behind Talla, who definitely noticed the shadow never giving her a chance to breathe.

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(TODAY)

Down there in the mine, as the battle wore on into hour three, it had become undeniable that Talla and Crosshair worked amazingly together, once they developed their own groove...

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(V'HIINA PRIME - 2 DAYS AGO - EARLY AFTERNOON V.T.)

Her enhanced strength and reinforced blades allowed Talla to slice through any droid with ease, but that didn't mean she was above getting overwhelmed at times, w ith doing that and deflecting blasts, more and more droids than they could have ever predicted coming at them. And the type of aggressive fighting style needed to be used with her swords, Talla reached a point where she needed to take a breather behind a stray mining cart, and her shadow called Crosshair of course knelt by her side, making sure nothing took advantage of this.

Talla's arms grew tired from hacking and punching droids to bits, so this was when her and Crosshair developed a system where they'd split the hard labor, in a way, because he too was getting really antsy without the usual freedom of fancy equipment that spiced things up, like bombs or reflective disks or any of his Firepuncher rifle attachments or even his FIREPUNCHER RIFLE.

This short conversation had was also an opportunity to tell he didn't have to be right behind her at all times. He took 'having her back' much to literally. Talla told him to do what he liked best - find a high vantage point and take things out from above, because being right behind her wasn't as effective as she was always in his way, and he was in hers too, and the Agent couldn't move as freely as she liked. Even with the lightning rifle, Crosshair could still be the eyes in the sky. 

Liking this so much better than being her useless shadow, Crosshair did just what she suggested. The man proved his own agility by using the elaborate systems of tracks lining the walls behind them for perches, which slid along carts full of dirt or minerals. He easily scaled these in record time, and scurried and hopped from cart to cart or pieces of machinery for cover while sniping for Talla down below to the best of his ability, which was pretty awesome, not gonna lie, considering the circumstances.

And once they got the hang of building on each other's enhancements, they actually became the fastest and most destructive duo within the strike team, despite the limitations of fatigue and unfamiliar weaponry. Hearing Wrecker's shouts of despair as he noticed their handiwork was music to the Sniper's ears. 😌👂🏻🎶✨ Nothing made Crosshair feel better than winning the Droid Killing competitions.

And with Talla having to handle only half the droids shooting at her, not even that at times, they could take down wave any group of droids, B1 or B2 or BX, with nary a problem and with speed that rivaled the speed of the lightning Crosshair shot! With renewed energy she rushed these droids head on with leaps and bounds and flips, and Crosshair rushed to keep her rushing. There were times he took out droids in her path she didn't even register were coming yet, senses a bit out of whack with the breathing apparatus, or he took out others just to cut down the rate of bolts coming her way. Heck, one time Talla was halfway done with a droid, and he finished it off without warning by shooting the head, possibly earning him a glare once she recovered from the violent flinch. He couldn't really tell with the helmet.

Another time, Crosshair was on the ground for reasons not memorable and he started to be closed in by a circle of five B2's when his kriffing gun jammed.

He fervently shook and hit various parts of the gun, cursing profusely, the B2's cutting his line of sight from the Bad Batch members specifically, each unable to come to his rescue due to the distraction of droids and pesky regs.

Out of his peripherals Crosshair picked up on each droid raise their right arms. The Sniper knew pulling out his vibro now would do absolutely nothing, he'd wouldn't even get it out in time. His back pressed against a wall. He fearfully  beheld a row of blasters trained on him, saw his life flash before his covered widened eyes -

In a flash Talla landed in front of him-

Crosshair's mind yelled for him to 'DUCK' an d good thing it did. Just as the droids' guns were ready to fire, Talla gave a small hop, a twirl, and with a deadly tornado of purple blades the clankers heads were slashed off. Within seconds all crumbled to the ground in a sparky heap of junk, and she elegantly landed into a crouch. 

"Show off." Crosshair bantered,

"You're welcome." Talla sassed up over her shoulder.

He snapped up from the ground and instinctively disintegrated an incoming B1. Apparently his rifle worked now. H e sneered at the unreliable piece of junk.

Later on, a haphazard blast knocked a sword from Talla's hand, coming from a droid some pesky reg was sloppily taking down. Deflecting a few incoming blasts with the one she still held the Agent did a somersault dive to retrieve the wayward one, blaster fire nipping at her heels. But she knew by now that the droids firing wouldn't have a chance to correct their positions because they weren't in existence by the time it computed in their stupid circuits for brains - Crosshair took care of it from his position up high with swift bolts of lightning aimed at their heads. And for extra flare once Talla straightened she gave him a mock salute that actually meant she was extremely appreciative.

He smirked underneath his helmet, shifted his gun to the right a bit and shot a bolt at the droid head a pesky reg was trying to finish off, getting a thrill watching the clone trooper jump back in surprise from almost DYING.

Talla's helmet didn't need to be off for Crosshair to know for sure this time that when she raised her head back up to his position and tilted slightly, he got a deadpanned look that said, ' Really ?'

He just mocked a salute back at her.

Shortly after she wasn't completely innocent from being immature herself, deciding to give a few regs jump scares when literally jumping in the middle of their personal scuffles with droids and finishing the jobs for them if they were 'taking too long.' It added more tallies to their teams droid count while the other three tried frantically catching up with some shenanigans of their own, thought up on the fly when Commander 'Buzzkill' Wolffe was momentarily preoccupied.

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(TODAY)

Yet even all this wasn't enough for Talla to trust Crosshair fully because what was happening on this mission was nothing really different from the other ones. They still trusted each other's amazing levels of skill, only now they were sort of buddy-buddy, which made them way more effective and reliable and playful and were teammates that actually started acting like they were real teammates.

This wasn't the life-or-death situation which would earn Crosshair her trust, it just further cemented her trust in his skills. It would take Crosshair doing something so completely and uncharacteristically selfless for Talla to trust him, to prove he really did have a heart. It was hard to forget everything he'd put her through, the inhumane treatment rivaling the witchy long-neck from hell.

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(V'HIINA PRIME - 2 DAYS AGO - EARLY EVENING)

Sealed into the Droid Control Room, Tech shut down the rest of the droid army and hacked into the Tactical Droids software to find any information at all about other mining operations to download.

The unfortunate Tactical Droid in charge seemed to have an anxious tendencies because it ducked under the console when they all blasted in and disintegrated his B1 helpers. Hunter had to hold down the wriggling droid so Tech could begin his process. The brainiac kindly requested Talla's help, wanting to use this calm moment also as a teaching moment, but she found herself needing to sit down in a computer chair some ways away. With a sharp wince she lightly massaged the sore area where the metal and flesh to her droid leg were connected. The hours of being on it and doing superhuman stunts had taken its toll.

Perhaps there was such a thing as too much flair?

Too preoccupied at the moment with a struggling droid pleading for its circuits to be spared, Hunter couldn't make sure she was alright. But since Crosshair chose to lean against the console in front of her with a silent sigh in relief at finally catching a break, he clearly heard the distorted sharp intakes of pained breaths next to him. He lazily glanced down at the Agent, "What?" Because judging by the sounds of discomfort she seemed to be in the same self-pity-party-boat as him, and he felt like complaining with someone to pass the time. The adrenaline rush from a battle was great as usual, but the stress and annoyance of having to make sure not to cause an explosion had sucked the energy right out of him. That, and his nonexistent social battery had somehow been thoroughly drained so frankly, he just wanted to go home. Even teasing the pesky regs had lost it's fun.

For kriff's sake, Crosshair really wanted a toothpick! Damn life support system though...

Her helmeted head glanced up at him in surprise, and she tried muttering light-heartedly, "Tech warned me beforehand that cybernetics ache in the cold, and that even when it kriffing hot they can also still hurt too from excessive use, but I'll be fine -"

"You want a shot of painkillers?" Crosshair knowingly interrupted, not wanting a repeat of when Talla was in the hospital and didn't say anything about her cybernetic leg pain. In the depths of his mind, he recalled Hunter mentioning at some point having to carry Talla back to her room.

"Nah, I'll be fine!" She insisted as per usual, not wanting to be an inconvenience. "Just need a minute to give the droid leg a break."

Crosshair scoffed dismissively, and while she no doubt gave him another surprised look, perhaps even a hurt one, he pulled out from his empty hip holster a small box of medical supplies, carried around instead just in case Doctor Tech wasn't around, who also had one in an empty holster of his. He picked out the stimpack and Talla immediately gave a protest, but he cut her off again with a sharp: "Don't be a baby, it's no different than when you get your ears pierced." Even so, her entire frame went rigid in anticipation for the experience that already made her hands feel numb, and she shrank away in fear. "It's so fast, you hardly feel it, alright?" Crosshair added with a microscopic amount of understanding and softness, knowing himself there was a difference between medically used needles and needles used to enhance appearances. It was a very small difference, but still a difference.

The understanding and softness he portrayed were nonexistent to the normal reg for instance, but if a different person said this to Talla, she probably would have gone and said 'Bull.' Except in the depths of her mind she recalled Hunter saying once that Crosshair had the severest needle phobia out of all the brothers, and he didn't have to go into detail too say why, nor would he have out of respect for his brother's privacy. Talla had a few good guesses though. Since Crosshair himself said this shot wasn't that bad, knowing she needed to hear this from someone who also feared needles to the severity she did, Talla reluctantly nodded, deciding to trust his, dare she say it, 'reassurances' above others.

Still, it was sheepishly asked if they would just go into a tunnel nearby that lead to a little cubby, a secluded place that would conceal her freak out from the others if it happened. Crosshair's helmet didn't have to be off for Talla to know he rolled his eyes in apparent annoyance, but she didn't sense any of that malice radiating off of him like usual and could only assume it was all for show. And the fact he didn't use this perfect opportunity to shamefully humiliate her in front of everyone over her needle phobia as opposed to several weeks ago in Nik's Parlor when he did embarrass her in front of everyone over her needle phobia, it showed his opinion on her really had changed. That made the corners of her lips lift slightly in glee.

Crosshair allowed himself to be forced a ways into the dimly lit tunnel, Talla wanting to be absolutely certain her potential freak out wouldn't stand a chance of being heard, and this attempt at concealment would prove to be the fatal mistake that earned Crosshair her unwavering trust.

Talla had calculated a probable but vague doomsday prediction and ideally, they should have had more than half a day left before the fiery cyclone of death reached the mine. What Talla could have never foreseen was another unnatural natural disaster just happening to hit their exact location at exactly that moment.

The dim lighting of the mines flickered, startling everyone. The walls, the floors, everything began to rumble, causing the soldiers to sway and latch onto the nearest stable object . Clouds of dust choked up the vicinity, and the metal beams supporting the tunnels were forced to shift from the earthquake .   It wasn't strong enough to completely collapse the tunnels but with the weaker points in the structures, one being smack dab right above the entrance to the cubby.

There was a resounding SNAP! when the beams broke apart. Then a groaning CREEEAAAK! as the beams bent against their will and fell to the ground, followed by a reverberating CLANG! The strike team snapped out of their stupor when a rain of boulders was starting to cut off the entrance/exit from the cubby where they'd seen Cross and Tal go.

On instinct each side haphazardly darted across the trembling grounds towards the rock waterfall, only for them to have to jump back to stop from being crushed.

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(TODAY)

Yet knowing the differences between Talla and Crosshair couldn't have been solved any other way didn't mean that the Bad Batch or Ahsoka liked the feeling of having the wind knocked out of them while just standing there, watching an avalanche of rocks put an impenetrable barrier between them and their respective brothers/friends.

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( V'HIINA PRIME - 2 DAYS AGO - MIDNIGHT ) ~ ( STRIKE TEAM POV )

Once the worst of the rock-a-lanche was over and the dust settled, everyone was quick to pick out a small window of opportunity on the upper right corner of the rock wall, a hole big enough for both Crosshair and Talla to jump through one by one if they reached it in time.

The Sergeant and Padawan wasted no time in scaling the wall of boulders to aid the duo, hoping they'd seen it too, both taking care not to slip on unsteady rocks that fell in their wake.

But just as they reached the top, Ahsoka felt a warning tingle in the Force. She locked onto the back of Hunter's chest plate and leapt backwards, in just enough time for them to be saved from another crushing boulder that cut the size of the trapped duo's exit in half.

And before they could recover from the hard fall, the little exit was blocked completely. A b ooming metal CLANG! sounded on the other side of the wall.

Hunter to quickly stood and activated his helmet comm. "Cross - Tal - You there?" He felt a wave of nausea when there wasn't an immediate reply. With the crushing weight of dread he reached out again.

Next to him, Tech shared a pensive glance with Wrecker, as did the padawan with her master.

The main power source of this mine must've been damaged, because the brighter lights flickered to their end, the ominous red back up lighting and absolute silence putting pits in their stomach. Hunter could hear and feel more rumbles in the distance. 

It was an agonizing thirty seconds of silence and several more calls before Cross snarkily, FINALLY answered, "You better have a brilliant plan to get us out of here, because we can't rig an explosion and Talla just snapped her favorite vibro trying to pry these emergency doors open by herself."

Hunter never thought he'd be so happy to hear Crosshair's sass, nor Talla's colorful and LOUD curses in the background that made several regs share looks of shock underneath their helmets at the vulgarity of her words. They were probably blushing too. None of the elegant Jedi women they worked with ever said stuff like THAT. 

Tech was swift to man the console and see if he could still tap into the mine's network, to stop all emergency protocol shutdowns. Wrecker did a few quick stretches in preparation for hauling two-ton boulders out of the way. "You'll be out in no time." Hunter promised them, confident in his squad's capabilities with seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against them plus a little bit of luck. As usual he would enjoy watching the spectators standing around be stupefied as the glorious Bad Batch did the impossible.

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(TODAY)

Unfortunately, this impossible turned out to be too impossible, and the time wasted could have been used to spare some unpleasantries during the rescue.

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( V'HIINA PRIME - 2 DAYS AGO - MIDNIGHT ) ~ ( STRIKE TEAM POV )

Once Wrecker started shifting away the boulders - much to the regs and Plo's astonishment - fissures snaked up on the roof, dropping clouds of dust. Pebbles were next. Then several deadly chunks nearly crushed his team.

"Hey, stop - STOP!" Wolffe shouted. W recker turned back towards the reg below him with confusion. "If we try moving this wall out of the way, the entire tunnel will collapse!" Wolffe predicted, and Hunter's heart sank, but he wasn't going to start worrying yet.

Though the Sergeant did inform the trapped soldiers over the comm channel,  "Never mind, it might be a while - hang tight."

"...Wonderful." Crosshair drawled before signing off.

The last thing Wrecker wanted to do was listen to a reg, but when he caught sight of the results from his earnest efforts, he could only hop down with a frustrated grunt. "That's the only way to get 'em out though." Wrecker pointed out to the reg Commander with blatant annoyance. 

Plo calmly pulled Ahsoka aside for a private Jedi chat. 

Lone Wolffe put his hands on his hips and said. "Let's just take a moment to think things through instead of rushing in with half-baked plans - they've got enough oxygen to last a while, and we're not in any real danger from the destruction yet."

"But what if there's another earthquake?" Wrecker pointed out too with a little more concern, "Tech can suck info outta the clankers head back on the Marauder, but we gotta get out of here now , just in case, right boss?"

Hunter did agree with Wrecker's concern, but, "Wreck, I want them out now too, and I know we like rushing into the fights, but if we don't do this right the first time, it can get Cross and Tal and killed, and us too."

Then t o everyone who wasn't a Bad Batchers' surprise, the mines systems whirred back to life. Everyone looked in the direction of Tech, who turned away from the monitor with his exposed eyes shining with pride. "Emergency procedures have been bypassed." He reported, a hint of smugness evident at the extremely short time it took.

"Well, that's great, but we still have the GIANT WALL that we can't take down without takin' the whole kriffin' mine down too." Wrecker huffed, crossing his arms moodily. "We never have these problems by ourselves, it's always with REGS we get into trouble like this!"

Wolffe's eyes turned to daggers beneath his helmet, and Ahsoka and Plo rejoined the circle of troopers with fierce determination at exactly the right time to prevent another fiasco like earlier. "We have an idea, but for it to work Crosshair and Talla have to be as far away from the wall as possible."

"Why?" Hunter queried unsurely.

She sensed his mistrust and hoped he would let them do their job as they allowed him and his squad to. "Master Plo and I are going to use the Force -"

Wrecker interrupted her with another huff, and expressed his mistrust more openly and animatedly with hand gestures. "'The Force?' Why's it gonna be different for you to move rocks with your mind then with me movin' 'em with my hands?"

Talla's words echoed in Hunter's mind - 'Trust Ahsoka.' And he was willing to do anything to get them out by this point, his brother having a good point about another earthquake happening. "Wrecker, let's hear 'em out." Like with Hunter earlier, no further words were needed, and Wrecker gave a firm nod, trusting his Sergeant.

But if Hunter thought the Bad Batch was risky when it came to plans, it was all thrown out the window when he heard this one.

But Hunter had no choice to accept or not accept when he, Tech, Wrecker, even Ahsoka all tried and failed to make contact with the other side of the wall, only met with more of that deafening silence. 

So next thing he knew, everyone was taking cover in secure locations. Ahsoka and Plo quickly got into Force-wielding positions or whatever it was called.

Hunter continued to have that terrible foreboding feeling weighing on his chest. From an inexperienced person's point of view, it just looked like Plo was reaching towards the heavens in a fervent prayer while Ahsoka made a stop signal with her palm facing towards the rock wall. Both had their eyes slowly shutting in deep concentration. When they started to tremble, beads of sweat and deep wrinkles forming on their foreheads, an experienced person may have also thought they were going to have a nervous breakdown.

Though the lack of collapsing tunnels... And the wall of boulders beginning to tremble kept any back talk at bay. It silenced everyone. 

What was really happening was the Master and Padawan were reaching out with the Force, one to literally hold the weight of the world (moon) on his shoulders (palms) through this invisible energy field, while the other used her less fine-tuned powers to reach out and form a hold onto the boulders. Hunter may not have been a Force wielder, but even he felt a strange shift of something, possibly the energy, inside this room. A chill went down his spine at the sensation and sight that unfolded before him - Dust, pebbles, any physical matter as it wanted to fall from the unsupported roof or was just laying on the ground was bounced off the invisible force Kel Dor was surrounded by, floating away from him in a way that it literally felt things were happening in slow motion. The particles flew towards and around the area of the hidden soldiers in an elegant dance that was captivating.

Once she sensed Master Plo having a secure hold on the structure around them, Ahsoka took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Eyelids snapped open to reveal the fierce determination her blue orbs were ablaze with, and the only way Hunter could describe what he saw next was that she flung back her hand, took a few running steps forward, leapt, then thrust both hands TOWARDS the wall, ye t the boulders seemed to repelled by an invisible energy from the OTHER side! Within seconds the exit was clear, the boulders ricocheted away, and they all may have been trembling but with gritted teeth Ahsoka used all the energy she had to maintain her control on them.

Just when you think you've seen everything.

With the boulders elevated in an unnatural asteroid field, the objective was remembered and Hunter's heart gave a painful twinge of fear when through the awe-inspiring maze... he picked out two bodies sprawled out on the ground. Without thinking about what might happen to him if Ahsoka lost control of the boulders he raced to the limp forms of his teammates, Tech and Wrecker right behind him. At the yelled order of Wolffe to 'Just pick them up and let's go!' the trio didn't check right then and there to see whether whether or not Crosshair and Talla were even breathing, just snatched them up, C rosshair over Wrecker's shoulder and Talla over Hunter's.

They had to exit the cubby with half the speed as when they entered 'cause of the extra weight, but by some miracle cleared the unnatural asteroid field just as Ahsoka let out a gasp and lost control of the boulders, collapsing down onto one knee .

It was now a race against time and gravity to escape this Control Room and mine entirely through the emergency tunnel and lift Tech had smartly unblocked while at the console earlier.

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(TODAY)

In that moment no one knew what happened within the short time between the last point of contact with Talla and Crosshair, then the weird cut off. It was only when they reached the Marauder in one piece and Hunter and Wrecker carefully laid the limp forms of their teammates onto the single hospital bed (a tight squeeze but drastic times call for drastic measures) that it was confirmed the soldiers were still alive - Thank the Force!

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(HYPERSPACE - YESTERDAY - EARLY MORNING) ~ (STRIKE TEAM POV)

Hunter could not sense any of their heartbeats beforehand because of the personal life support system, which plagued him with constant mechanic sounds and vibrations. Yet he and his teammates and the Togruta padawan were forever thankful that at least Talla and Crosshair were here and were alive.

But they started celebrating too soon.

Removing and tossing aside Crosshair's helmet, the Wolfpacks designated medic ordered grimly, "Set a course for Kaliida, double time!"

Wolffe and Plo obeyed when the Bad Batch didn't make a move to, frozen in fear and clearly not wanting to leave their sick teammates sides since o ne patient was alarmingly in critical condition - C rosshair. The sickly pale and blue tint to Crosshairs skin and lips signaled that he was severely deoxygenated, and the medic was quick to check and clear his airways first to see if that'd make a difference.

Considering the fact Crosshair stayed unconscious was definitely not a good sign, especially since soon after Talla shifted in her place with a distorted groan. Doctor Tech was quick to be by her side and carefully remove the helmet.

Dazed eyes slowly opened. Her movements were clumsy, she did not appear to be aware of her surroundings. She groaned in discomfort before the violent and wet coughing came. Those weren't good signs of being okay either but at least she wasn't unconscious. Talla was flushed and somehow green at the same time but alert, while Crosshair looked like a kriffing corpse.

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(TODAY)

Everyone who wasn't a Bad Batcher was confused. Crosshair was unresponsive with the medic starting up the CPR routine, while on the other side of the bed Talla was sitting up with the aid of Tech, clutching onto his chest piece, coughing then desperately wheezing in the sweet air that didn't come through a tube. His teammates untrained in medical stuff could only helplessly watch and hope that she wouldn't be the only one who had a chance for a full recovery.

What Crosshair really needed was a bacta tank and strong medications or antibiotics. Hunter was informed enough to know that the chances for CPR working were not very high to begin with. Survival rates already started in the single digits and dwindled down to mere fractions as time dragged on. 

The oldest brother allowed Wrecker to grasp his upper arm in fear as they waited... and waited... and waited...

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(HYPERSPACE - YESTERDAY - EARLY MORNING) ~ (STRIKE TEAM POV)

By some miracle, the medic got a cough from Crosshair, then several more that cleared his airway of mucus, which was mixed with the dark particles of toxic cortosis dust that had somehow entered his system. That coughing fit was followed by the ironically sweet sound of him taking in rapid and shallow wheezes.

Wrecker gave Hunter a happy squeeze and shake that kriffing hurt but he was too relieved to care! The fact he was conscious now was good right?

Then Crosshair looked green in the face. Then came the puking, thankfully into a trashcan. Then when he finished heaving up the few contents of his stomach, he collapsed back onto the mattress and sharply groaning and giving silent yells he clawed at his chest, which hurt like a kriffing bitch!

Trying to make sense of what was happening the Sniper's glazed eyes opened and he wheezed in more hoarse gasps, to which the medic helped him out by whipping out a breathing mask hanging nearby and attaching it onto his face. The closest brother - Tech - spoke out to him, and told him everything was fine and to not fight off the help when he flinched at the medics touch. He was in no position to fight off, but it was a force of habit when it came to treating Crosshair for any and all injuries. Dazed and confused and lethargic and in excruciating pain he couldn't even try moving to ease it, and wasn't able to register the blue gridded light of the bioscan going over his body, or everyone anxiously waiting for some answers. 

At least Talla's erratic breaths took a turn for the better, calming down to a nice, steady pace. Doctor Tech held her at arm's length to start asking her some questions, first and foremost: "How are you feeling?"

Head hanging and body swaying and eyes unfocused, it took a few beats before the question processed through her visibly sluggish mind. She mumbled how her head hurt... that she didn't feel so good, to which Tech had a split second to snatch another bedpan and shove it under her.

While she heaved up the contents of her stomach, feeling terrible aches and pains all over from the unusual sickness plaguing her, results from Crosshair's scan beeped up, and it revealed he had acute cortosis poisoning.

" How ?" Tech demanded, this not computing, "Crosshair had a fully functional life support system," And Tech was certain of this because he'd meticulously checked them ALL before they donned them. 

Hunter looked down at the helmet previously tossed by his feet. Uneasily, he stooped down to pick it up, and noticed that one of the tubes that connected Crosshair's helmet to the oxygen tank was completely gone. His system was actually in fact not functional. Upon further inspection, it was next revealed that the hose wasn't actually gone, per se, but... attached to Talla's helmet, which Ahsoka was examining with a 'furrowed brow'.

How they knew it was Crosshair's - he had painted his charcoal black before the mission, like Hunter did his red, Wrecker did his red and black while Tech and Talla opted to leave theirs plain and practical white.

And now there was a recollection. Tech remembered that he had snagged an object of interest on the ground by Talla's unconscious form and shoved it into his other holster, and it all came rushing back as too why it was interesting in the first place - it was originally Talla's tube connection, but there was damage to it. It had been sliced into.

Slowly, people put two and two together, including the medic hooking Crosshair up to various life support systems. He barked an order for someone to find a makeshift bed for the Agent since she was stable and in his way. He got results faster than he anticipated as no one had seen Wrecker leave, and he suddenly popped back in carrying three crates that he spread a foam mat on top of, on the floor several feet away from the bed. To aid in settling Talla on her new bed, Tech wordlessly took out and tossed the damaged tube to Hunter, who now had Ahsoka at his side, and they both studied the missing piece to the puzzle.

They shared a look that mirrored similar baffled thought patterns.

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(TODAY)

Crosshair had it out for Talla since the moment they met, and he expressed how he wanted her gone very openly and very graphically. Would it make sense that when they were finally away from prying eyes that he'd cut Talla's breathing tube so she'd suffocate to death from the deadly minerals permeating the air, then graciously sacrifice his own life by replacing her destroyed tube with one of his good ones so she'd live, and he'd most likely die?

No, it didn't make sense, because would be totally insane.

So, there wasn't anything else to think but... Crosshair knew he'd likely die from sacrificing a part to his life support system, and still gave it up anyways, to save the woman who he had hated since the day they met.

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(HYPERSPACE - YESTERDAY - EARLY MORNING) ~ (STRIKE TEAM POV)

When they voiced this theory, Wrecker had to ask, "But what if Talla, like -" He cupped a hand around his mouth, as if it'd help aid in him sounding quieter while he 'whispered': "What if she actually stole it from Cross?" He peered over his shoulder anxiously, but relaxed when he saw Talla had conked out already and Wrecker returned to his usual booming voice, "It'd be kinda easy, right, because she's stronger than him?" He pretty much assumed it was the question of the millennium everyone else was thinking.

Except Tech, after attaching a breathing apparatus to Talla's face twisted with discomfort, he of course negated this fear with his profound knowledge. "That is an unlikely theory." Everyone except the working medic turned to him expectantly, and he adjusted the goggles while calmly approached his brothers and the padawan, the brainiacs eyes giving away his unease over the situation, gleamed with worry. He whipped out his trusty datapad. "The entire reason we wore these life support systems was so that no cortosis particles would enter our systems as it is highly potent toxin and would immediately inflame our lungs and airways while increasing mucus production, a cluster of events that would cut off any sort of breathable air from entering their lungs -"

He was about to go on another tangent, yet in a moment of clarity Hunter didn't cut him off even though it secretly overwhelmed him, in fact his left hand shot up a hand to stop Wrecker saying, 'Stop talkin' in circles and just give it to us straight, Tech!'

"- Considering they were in a confined space it is unlikely there was any breathable air at all, and our helmets do not filter rare toxins such as cortosis. If she was suddenly without any sort of clean oxygen supply in a confined space such as that cubby, she would have started to choke and suffered rapid weakening of her body due to the symptoms of incredible sickness that even mild cortosis poisoning will give, more so with someone with enhanced senses as herself -"

While Tech listed off the different sickness symptoms, Hunter fought a grimace as he dared to look at Talla's face fully displaying her suffering, her forehead puckered. A layer of sheen sweat coated her face and no doubt her body underneath which must be stifling with that body glove. Breathing not as steady as it should be and not always happening through her nose, her heart rate was not ideal either... By the Force, how much was she suffering despite being asleep?

"So no," Hunter shifted his worried eyes back to Tech when the signs for the TECH-TALK end were clearly evident, "She could not have stolen Crosshair's tube - he would have easily defended himself from the weakened opponent. The only logical conclusion is that Crosshair made a split-second decision to sacrifice his own equipment, and since the average human can hold their breath for thirty to ninety seconds without much of an issue, he probably did so before taking off his tube and switching out hers as swiftly as possible to ensure he'd be able to maintain control of his bodily functions long enough to save her life before succumbing to the effects of cortosis poisoning himself."

"Well, that's a relief, I guess." Ahsoka sighed, setting Talla's helmet on a table behind her.

Not looking up from typing away on his datapad, Tech replied, "Not a very big one though." With a touch of darkness, referring to his severely injured and sick brother who was unconscious again, and the only person he'd ever felt truly listened to him practically in the same boat.

Ahsoka's compassion made her place a reassuring hand up on Tech's rigid shoulder, which he tensed even more from but she pressed on anyways, "Hey, at least they're both alive -"

"Yeah, barely." Wrecker interrupted with equal despair, and he wasnt shy about showing how nervous he was, crossing his arms together as if to keep himself and his emotions together.

Her other hand was placed on his forearm, and this brother didn't tense. Instead, he responded favorably to it. "... for now." Ahsoka halfway agreed after some hesitation, "Listen, I've heard of the Kaliida Medcenter's accomplishments in the war, and it's the best place for troopers to get treated. And yes, from my understanding the Kaminoans may be a bit... 'rough' with their patients -"

"Ha!" Wrecker scoffed bitterly.

"- but at least Talla and Crosshair will be receiving the best care in the galaxy available for them."

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(TODAY)

What Ahsoka didn't know about was the veiled threats for termination the long-necks always found a way to slip into a conversation or a lesson and so on and so forth. If Crosshair didn't make a full recovery within a short period of time, and performed at the high level he had before this accident, setting the bar jaw-droppingly high day in and day out, well, the Bad Batch knew what they'd have to do next.

Blow the kriffing long-necks off the face of the planet, or in this case the space medical station.

Considering Talla had passed out again from exhaustion, and Crosshair was in and out of unconsciousness while the medic treated the symptoms he could, they wouldn't get answers for what happened behind that wall until one of them was coherent again.

Thankfully, Kaliida was only a few short hours away, at least Ahsoka was appreciative of that anyways. The Bad Batch though, it was only a couple of hours before they're teammates lives were put in the hands of the cruel Kaminoans.

Chapter Text

(TODAY - EARLY MORNING - DAY 37 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

It wasn't until long after they arrived on Kaliida before Hunter got some answers. Only after Talla had suffered many grueling hours of examinations and tests and treatments and a bacta tank session that were all a blur for her. It was an agonizingly slow time for Hunter since he was forced to wait around with the others, doing nothing but worry and being hypervigilant.

When Talla was transferred to a private recovery room, Hunter was thankful to snag a few hours rest like she did, though it was only a cat nap in his instance considering his bed was an uncomfortable Kaminoan type egg chair. Hunter technically wasn't supposed to be in there at all, but after a day and a half of doing nothing but worrying, unable to see the injured duo, the Sergeant had forced his way into this room after Tech got notified on his datapad of her transfer, to this room specially made up by Nala Se for her 'personal project' in case she was ever treated here. It wasn't the Intensive Care Unit, so the Kaminoan Doctor no doubt glared at Hunter when he stubbornly refused to acknowledge her kind request to leave, because SAC-1 needed her rest and shouldn't be disturbed.

He just claimed a chair in the corner, without using any words saying he'd be silent as the grave so TALLA could rest, but he was not leaving, and that was that. The same was happening with Crosshair, them being unable to see him, so Hunter decided to physically be here with Talla, turning down the lights in the room and getting some rest himself while she recovered from all the treatment; Wrecker and Tech were back at the Marauder, anxiously waiting for the time Crosshair would be out of Intensive Care and they could be by his side as well, no matter where they put him.

Being in such a light slumber, Hunter was aware of Talla starting to wake up, her little groan of protest instantaneously making him alert.

The first thing Talla could make sense of when waking up was the feeling of laying on top of a soft and heavenly mattress, wrapped up in a nice warm blanket that she tugged around her more snugly with a happy sigh. Next, Talla registered how surprisingly comfortable she was laying here, despite wearing heavy armor. When wearing armor, one always had to sleep in odd positions that honestly made things only microscopically less uncomfortable than before, but every little bit counted when catching a few winks on a mission.

Habitually, Talla shifted to try making herself more comfortable, but her eyebrows snapped together when the pokes and prods of bulky armor weren't felt. She was indeed already comfortable, like actually comfortable. 'Wait a sec.' Her mistrustful eyes snapped open. 'I'm comfortable and sleeping with armor on so isn't.' Peeping down under the blanket, Talla saw a red tunic and pants dressing her body underneath the blanket instead of the plastoid-alloy. 'I'm not wearing my armor - Why am I not wearing armor?!' 

Cold fear gripped her heart - these were experiment clothes! 'WHY AM I WEARING THESE?!?!' She shot upwards. It took all of two seconds to see the stark white walls and floors, bright white lights, and nauseating scent of antiseptic. Talla's mindset was back on Kamino as SAC-1. She cowered against the back of the raised hospital mattress, whimpering, "Oh kriff - Oh no -" Breaths and heart rate quickened, symptoms of an anxiety attack already coming on full force. 

A calm, reassuring, baritone voice close by said her name.

Whipping to the left, Talla gasped more out of relief than fright when Hunter was close by, palms up to show he meant no harm. He placed one of those hands on her quivering shoulder when he was sure there'd be no risk for a black eye or a bruised rib. The panic-stricken woman latched onto his midriff and Hunter let her, knowing she'd need this hug to bring herself back down to reality. Anticipating beforehand her need for this sort of comfort, he'd even set aside his upper body armor earlier, sporting just his blacks from the waist up so he'd be more comfortable to hug. And because Hunter was also relieved, so extremely relieved that the woman he really cared about was finally awake, without a second thought he hunched over slightly and returned the hug with as much fervor. "You're not in a lab, and you're not on Kamino." Making sure to add lowly for good measure, even going so far as to tenderly cradle the back of her head to his chest. As opposed to tensing up like he usually did, a warm glow sparked in Hunter's chest that he allowed himself to feel instead of push away. It was a nice but cursed change of pace from the usual uneasiness. He liked being needed. He liked he was a comfort to her. 

Hunter just really needed that win today. It looked like Talla was not vomiting anymore, she was only running a slight fever and had let out only two small, baby coughs since hugging him - he'd definitely call that a win for this sucky day.

But thinking about his little brother's life still being in the hands of the long-neck doctors, without the team there for protection, oh it made Hunter itch to grab his blaster and shoot out every obstacle in their way, consequences be damned. This clone hospital run exclusively by the long-necks was a lot stingier than the one on Coruscant, that one geared more for the Guard and run by Coruscant doctors and trained Clone Medics. No one had seen hide nor tail of Crosshair since he was cruelly whisked away from them, the Kaminoan Doctors knowing nothing about compassion or caring about the anxiety of his 'family.' The same was with Talla.

Till now. And Hunter fought the startling urge to kiss her forehead from another wave of relief hitting him, choosing to just hug her a little tighter and leaning his cheek against the top of her head, letting his eyes shut and a sigh of relief come and go. This was too close of a scare. 

Once Talla's mental wheel of anxious thoughts going a million lightyears a second came to a standstill, she gasped, "Crosshair!" The Sarge fought to keep a straight face. He anticipated what the next questions were. She pulled away and frantically looked around, didn't see the Sniper or any other hospital beds, and clutched Hunter's upper arms. "Where is he? Where are we? Is he okay?!"

Weaving his arms over hers Hunter firmly grasped her shoulders, "He's in the bacta tanks again." He informed her, gently but forcibly easing her back against the raised bed without saying anymore, prompting her to ask impatiently, "'Again?'" Hunter swiped a palm over his tired face and continued the path of anxious fidgeting by threading his fingers through his hair, obviously very reluctant to say anything more. He didn't want to cause a relapse with her health from distress, but he knew Talla could see right through him. So when she shifted her legs, giving him a place to sit on the bed with a pleading look on her face, Hunter couldn't help but give in, plopping down with a heavy sigh, hunching over to prop his elbows on his knees. "He's still going through treatment for the cortosis poisoning, but last we heard he's got an infection in the lungs now too, so he's being shot up full of antibiotics while being in the tanks and, well -" He hunched a little more so he could massage the back of his tense neck while Talla's eyes widened, "- he's in real bad shape, alright?" Hunter finished in a rush, getting that part over with quickly.

Her voice was small, "Is he gonna -"

"No," Hunter denied with a firm shake of his head. "No, he'll be fine, just-" Pausing, he was really reluctant with finishing that thought.

Talla waited several seconds but he didn't continue. "Just give it to me straight Hunter, because not knowing just drives me crazier than the truth itself - you know I have a very active imagination and will imagine a scenario a hundred times worse than the truth itself could be."

There was another reluctant sigh in defeat - if the roles were reversed, he'd ask the same. Hunter even said something similar to her not that long ago. He forced his fidgety hands to clasp, "Kamino is sending over a specialist who's treated members of our squadron before, and has had great success overseeing our care." Hunter grimly informed her. 

He was right about that next wave of panic. "Nala -?" With some difficulty Talla swallowed down some bile and let out a shaky breath through her nostrils. "Nala Se?" The female clone finished in an equally shaky mutter.

"Presumably." This flatly said, uninformative one word answer was all the answer Hunter got when he asked Tech the same question.

An attempt at a peeved huff only brought the urge to vomit back, and her next words were taut and mixed with more huffs. "It's not a presumption, she's the only one who's ever overseen our treatments." It was getting hard to breathe. Like he feared, Talla curled up on herself, "I-I told him not to do it, Hunter, I told him to let me die!" She guiltily looked down at her lap when the man's head raised with a horrified look. "Well - I-I tried to at least but I couldn't talk 'cause I was..." Hunter shifted closer and put his hand back where it was before, and he almost drew her back into his arms again but she took this as a signal to use the breathing exercises instead, did them, and faced Hunter more in control a short while later with a guilty expression, "He did it though, didn't he?"

Not wanting to put words in her mouth, he blatantly asked, "What happened after that last communication? Can you remember?"

So, she told him everything from her point of view.

( FLASHBACK - CORTOSIS MINE - TALLA POV )

They were forced to wait out the earthquake before attempting to escape. Talla counted to thirteen seconds until the trembles stopped wanting to introduce her face to the ground. Without hesitation she grabbed Crosshair's wrist and forced him to climb the wall of rocks with her to the narrow window of opportunity left behind, towards the upper left corner. He'd yelp a curse every now and then from the rough manhandling.

Another sizeable boulder from the other side tumbled down and cut the window size in half. They'd just reached the top. With his broader shoulders Talla quickly calculated Crosshair would never fit.

And that's when he caught her off guard - Talla wasn't expecting Crosshair to give her a little shove from behind.   "Go, get out of here." But why he ever thought he could physically move someone of her strength, it was stupid and wasted valuable time because he distracted her, Talla thought, among other things - like him, CROSSHAIR, being so selfless! She resisted his shoves with minimal efforts. "Talla,   GO !" He ordered in the most authoritative yet desperate voice ever used. 

But she got over her shock. "I won't leave you here!" She refused, turning her head this way that.

But there was no time to find a Plan B, at that moment another piece of earth ramming into the exit. They recoiled, the duo stumbled over the edge of the perch, and fell right down into their new dim and dusty prison cell, which became completely sealed off after a loud warning beep signaled the emergency doors activating, snapping shut moments later with a resounding CLANG!

There was a tense silence, their brains processing the grave situation they found themselves in.

Crosshair got his bearings and made sure to check over his and hers life support, but Talla must have seemed completely unperturbed about this whole thing, "Why didn't you escape when you got the chance, di'kut?!" He hissed at her. 

She was focused on the doors, formulating a plan, and didn't spare him a glance. Whipped out was her trusty Vibro that was strapped to her boot. She was focused on getting them both out of here alive, and jammed her blade in between the two metal doors. There was a distinctive CREEEEEAAAAAAK when she, impressively and stupidly, tried to force them apart on her own. But she was expecting the other soldiers and Jedi to deal with the rock wall and wanting to do her part in completing the mission.

Assuming by the two holes burning into the back of her head while she worked, Talla suspected that Crosshair was ferociously glaring at her due to her apparent rebuffing of his willing sacrifice. That must've been what made him not answer Hunter's comms right away. It admittedly made her feel bad about what the Sniper must be thinking about her, after all the progress they'd made.

She ended up jerking the blade in her fist with too much force too quickly and -

💥 SNAP! 💥

Cue pause of disbelief.

Both took in the blade and handle of her favorite knife now in two pieces, the handle and part of the blade clenched in her fist and the rest of the blade still pried in the doors.

🤬

"BLOODY MOTHERKARKING KARABASTS, LOOK WHAT YOU DID, SHABUIR!!! YOU BROKE MY KNIFE!!! THE KARK IS WRONG WITH YOU, KRIFFING PSHYCO BITCH!?!?" And while she shouted vulgar obscenities of various languages at the doors with angry, jerky bodily movements to go along with them, "DANK FERRIK YOU KRIFFING PIECE OF BANTHA SHIT -!!!" Crosshair calmly answered Hunters messages, who she vaguely remembered giving promises they'd be out soon. "DAMMIT, THIS WAS MY FAVORITE KNIFE TOO, YOU MOTHERKARKING CLANKER WANNABE -" With a flurry of fists and knees, she gave the door a few dents in payback,   "I SWEAR TO THE V'HIINAN GODS, I'LL SHRED YOUR ASS INTO A KARKING SCRAP PILE AND SELL YOU TO THE JAWAS YOU SON OF A KRIFFING BITCHY BANTHA -"

When there was a pause in her rant, Crosshair mistakenly thought Talla was done. "Your precious knife would still be here if you'd just left me behind -"

Talla whirled on him. "Stow it, Crosshair!" Yet he didn't flinch. But when she bent down to scoop up a stray rock he did flinch that time, no doubt thinking it was meant for smashing against his bucketed head. "Yeah, I'm mad about the knife, it was my very first one, but I'd rather a broken keepsake than a dead teammate!"

"Even me?" Crosshair frustratingly asked after her little rant, as if still believing she was a monster or something.

" Especially you !" Talla insisted, and h e froze. And stayed that way even as she waved the deadly rock around to emphasize her words.   "The first thing you guys taught me when you came back for me on Silva was that we don't leave our own behind, no matter what. And as much as you denied it I am - was  a part of the Bad Batch." There was a touch of bitterness there, not surprisingly. " But I know your brothers would prefer you over me when push comes to shove." Definitely bitterness there too. In all honesty, Talla hated that she hadn't found her place in the universe yet. That was beside the point though, "Look, either way   I don't want to live in a universe where you die and I live but we never got to patch things up properly because t hat would kill me, especially since I know you have a heart now. And I don't want your brothers to experience a loss like 99's again, because I'd never be able to live with myself with that outcome either." Putting her hands on her hips, she mimicked his authoritative nature from earlier. "S o, we're both getting out of here, and we're going to be friends, and that's final!" Facing the door again while he remained stupefied, Talla raised her arm to slam the rock against it in a last act of revenge for her fallen blade. "Just shut up and let me have my moment and then I'll be fine."

That moment was her next fatal mistake. Upon impact with the metal door, her enhanced strength caused the rock to shatter, making a huge dent, yes, but also sending sharp projectiles in all directions, and there was no way Talla could have jumped out of the way in time. Several scratched her visor. Several nicked the exposed areas between armor pieces, piercing through the body glove.

And one lucky piece lodged itself into her breathing hose. A hiss signaled that her vital oxygen supply was cut off, giving the toxic cortosis particles the ability to enter her system.

And her body reacted accordingly - after a few panicked breath intakes, Talla  couldn't breathe.

(END OF FLASHBACK)

"What happened next, it all happened so fast," Talla admitted regretfully, unable to give intricate details. "I remember falling to the ground because I was choking so bad. I remember Crosshair coming to my side and yanking out my damaged tube." Self-loathing caused her to grimace. "That made me look up because I thought he was trying to make sure I died and I was ready to try fighting back -" Her guilt hit its peak at this point because that didn't turn out to be the case at all, and if they weren't surrounded by Kaminoans she might have allowed herself to be weak and let a few tears to fall. She had to settle with wringing her hands, not wanting to shred her hair to compensate. "But he yanked out one of his good tubes instead, and I think I tried yelling at him to stop when I realized what he was getting at... but after that, I guess I must've still passed out despite his sacrifice..." Those tears really wanted to fall and she had a hard time speaking after that, her throat painfully choked with emotion, "And now he's paying the price for my stupid actions while I'm already in recovery."

"He's going to be fine too." Hunter put forth hopefully, not wanting the pain or awkwardness that he would experience if she did end up crying.

There was no crying, but his words were no comfort at all it turned out, Talla's eyes trained on her lap sharpening in hate. "Only if Nala Se thinks his recovery is going to be worth it." She snapped bitterly, "Hate to break it to you, but there are other amazing Snipers in the Grand Army, and while they can't physically do the impossible like Crosshair, there's blaster and helmet attachments that can make up for it - he's worth nothing to Nala Se, none of us are."

"We'll figure it out." Hunter put forth more strongly this time, then changed the tune of the conversation, wanting to ease her guilt. "But either way, Crosshair doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do." She huffed mistrust fully. "It's true, Talla. We all have that defiance, but if there was a competition, he'd win it in a landslide -" Her head snapped upwards with a ferocious glare, the clear message being: 'It was way too soon to make a joke like that.' It was purely accidental on his part - Hunter blamed it on not being able to think straight around her even now - but he quickly said an apology anyways, "None of does what we're told, or can be forced to do what we don't want to do -"

"NoOo, really?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips. "I wouldn't have guessed from all the resistance I've been getting with trying to house train you guys."

Hunter smartly didn't retort, already on 'shaky grounds' with her with that landslide comment. "There's nothing Crosshair wouldn't do for those he gives a damn about, and he clearly gives one about you now." He chose to tell her instead. "His loyalty to you now means he'd kill someone for you if it came down to it, just like with the rest of us, and I can tell you he won't regret what he did for you."

This reassurance, dare he say it happy news only made her look down again, guilt spiking exponentially as opposed to being appeased. "I don't want Crosshair killing someone for me - I don't want him killing himself for me. I was fine after that first attempt because I thought we were going to get out together, but when it really happened... I'm just not worth the effort, Hunter." She murmured that last admittance, and in his eyes, Nala Se's brainwashing symptoms making a reappearance despite Tech's and his efforts to get her to see she's not like a dummy droid.

"What do you mean by that?" Hunter asked with an edge in his tone. 

Talla wanted to tell him everything that had nothing to do with the brainwashing, about how they were expendable now that she was fully trained, and might not make too much of an effort to fix him up, since Nala Se was probably looking for the perfect excuse to get rid of them since Talla interfered with her plans to dispose of the messy, irresponsible Bad Batch boys once and for all. But as soon as it came it was gone. To spare his feelings, she let out a sharp breath in discontent and played on that brainwashing bit since it was also the truth. "Look, I know you said I was wanted in this squadron and fitted in with you guys, but the truth is no one would mourn me if I died, and if anyone did it'd be Nala Se because she wasted so many credits on me."

"Well, I would!" Hunter blurted out, but then he made sure to add, "And so would Tech, and Wrecker, and considering he risked his life for yours I'd say Cross thinks the same."

The look he received was knowing and slightly accusing, "Not as long or as much if it was Crosshair who died." The silence received in response coupled with the hard stare made Talla believe he didn't deny this statement. "C'mon, Hunter, that was confirmed when I told you I was leaving, because you didn't even deny that you'd choose Crosshair over me when it came down to it." A feeble smile to show that same fake understanding did nothing to appease the guilt rising on his part. "But I think I sort of get it - he's your family, and from watching you guys interact I can see it's a bond that goes way deeper than just friendship, and that's why I feel so guilty, because even though you say Crosshair did this out of the goodness of his heart, I still almost destroyed your family as you know it, and I think him dying would cause worse pain then losing 99. I trust him now, and I believe we can be friends and after I leave maybe I can meet up with you guys sometimes, I just wish it didn't have to happen this way... even though it did have to happen this way."

In reality, Hunter didn't know how to tell her she mattered a hell of a lot to him, not without revealing his feelings for her. That when he thought about what almost happened it gave him the same level of dread as when he saw her limp body after the wall was lifted. It gave him the same dread as seeing Crosshairs limp body and the narrow escape of survivors' guilt. He'd be absolutely crushed if she died, just as crushed if it was Crosshair or any other one of the members of his family, like 99.

It was an alarming revelation. Hunter never thought that would happen in a million years. But this wasn't about him, this was about her and Crosshair, so he didn't say anything more about this for now and changed the subject by shooting a hand up to stop her own from victimizing her hair by shredding the crap out of it.

Talla rolled her eyes in annoyance and snatched her hand back, "I know it's bad for me to pick at my hair, but I think I deserve some anxious fidgeting right now."

Hunter cleared his throat nervously, "No, um -" Here came another thing he didn't know how to tell her, so instead he showed her by releasing her hand, shuffling closer to her, then unexplainedly tucked the loose strands framing her face behind her ear, then gently sifted the lock of hair with his own fingers.

And wide eyed Talla was flabbergasted at the seemingly tender action, until she saw the unnaturally sized clump of hair he held up afterwards, fear written all over his face as hers morphed into one of terror. 'Even mild cortosis poisoning can cause hair loss,' Tech had mentioned during his warning rant before reaching V'hiina Prime.

Yeah, she wasn't too happy about this at all.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

There was nothing that could pry Talla from Crosshair's side after she realized that he did in fact risk his life for her, and it wasn't done out of reluctance. Crosshair did it because he thought her life was worth it. It was a completely selfless act that signaled she had made it onto the tiny list of people he was loyal too and would do anything for, to the extent of even risking his own life, and she wasn't even family. Talla and even Hunter doubted he'd do this for their few other friends yet, the Glam Squad or that fellow from Saluecami they spoke about every once in a while.

This should've been a time of celebration but to put it bluntly, it made Talla feel all the more guilty - in doing so he'd hurt his actual family.

But that didn't mean Talla was ungrateful. In order to show her thanks, she made sure to be by his side when Crosshair did regain consciousness. And to be by his side, she had Tech hack into the hospitals network and forge a communication that looked like a direct order from the one and only Nala Se. In simple terms, the order stated that CT-9904 from Experimental Unit Clone Force 99 would continue treatment and recovery in the very same room as SAC-1, so he'd be protected from fellow clones who had a tendency to torment him, which would only aggravate his condition, draw out his recovery, and waste valuable medical supplies - How touching, am I right? But it was such a cold-hearted phrasing of things that no one questioned the order came from the Mistress. And thankfully, no one bat an eye at Talla's strange relapse in health, at her needing to wear a breathing mask again after her scans showed promise of a speedy recovery.

Once Crosshair was done in the bacta tanks and it was seen he made great improvements, a hospital bed and other medical machines were hauled into Talla's wing of the glorious palace, and when they were satisfied with the monitoring system and his vitals continued to be steady after all that upheaval, Talla and the Bad Batch boys finally got to see the self-sacrificing Sniper with their own eyes.

His skin was still lacking a lot of healthy coloring. His face was twisted in a permanent grimace from the discomfort of his aches and pains. Every once in a while, he'd let out a wheeze for his airways were still in the process of recovering from the infection. The most jarring symptom of all though? His silver hair had fallen out more dramatically than Talla's, baldness spotting his head, and his eyebrows even thinned too, having some patches with no hair. Hunter almost fainted. And Talla was grateful she had less drastic side effects to her physical appearence, losing quite a bit but her hair thickness was thinner as opposed to losing whole patches of hair.

That aside, there was a method to Talla's madness at the huge risk of forgery - there was not even such a thing as visiting hours here on Kaliida, but the Kaminoans would eventually kick out the rest of the interfering Bad Batch from the room with threats of reporting them to their superiors, which could unnecessarily complicate things; Talla wanted Crosshair to still have one of his team members around when he woke up, because waking up in an unfamiliar place that looked like a Kaminoan lab and had actual Kaminoans roaming the area, well, it goes without saying that wouldn't end very good for either side.

It was almost midnight when he did regain consciousness, and the plan of having him close by proved to be very astute on Talla's part. The first thing that registered in Crosshair's sluggish mind was the repulsive scent of antiseptic hitting his nostrils, and that was enough for him to snap into full alertness. 'OH, HELL NO!' Fear-ridden eyes scanned the stark white walls and floors, bright white lights, various machines he was hooked up to, and naturally Crosshair assumed he was back inside a lab on Kamino. 'Oh Force, please no-' Trauma response engaged, senses and mind overwhelmed by the surroundings of his nightmares, when he shot upwards Crosshair didn't hear the soothing female voice call out to him in concern, only reacted to the other person's presence when she prevented him from jumping off the bed. When he went to punch and shove her hands away she caught his fists of fury, and a masked figure held him back with surprising strength. He struggled with everything he had to get away, feeling suffocated with the fogged up breathing mask over his face which only vexed him more. So did the beeping of the heart monitor when his heart rate spiked to unhealthy levels in his condition. And the experimental red robes he saw adorning his body now, and all the tubes and medical attachments stuck to him only sent him onwards toward the downward spiral.

Until he registered it was TALLA'S FACE behind the breathing mask.

With eyes soft in sympathy she let go of him after the risk for a broken nose had passed, but that didn't mean Crosshair was done panicking. He latched his shaking hands onto her wrists when she gently guided him back against the mattress. His breaths were still coming out in short puffs and fogging up the clear mask on his face, and his eyes were wide and silently begging her to tell him this was all a bad dream. Crosshair needed her to actually say it out loud this was a bad dream.

She gave a few soft shushes and quiet 'Hey's' when his hands tremors grew worse and his heart monitor continued to beep in protest. "You're not in a lab, Crosshair, and you're not on Kamino."

His shaky exhale mixed with a heart-string-tugging noise that escaped his mouth against his wishes, a whimper. Talla hoped it was out of relief instead of fear, and it took every ounce of restraint to not hug the living daylights out of him, never seeing Crosshair so vulnerable and wanting to give him all the comfort in the world. But hugs would make him feel more uneasy. "You're safe." She settled on simply saying, and after a few more seconds of him hanging onto her for dear life - Talla swore there'd be bruises later on - his crazed eyes surveyed the room with a clearer mind.

This room looked nothing like Nala Se's lab, just had a Kaminoan touch, definitely a bit cushier then the sterile and minimalist lab. And there was no Nala Se observing them behind a layer of transperisteel. He really wasn't on Kamino. He was safe.

... and he could stop panicking now, he was being ridiculous. In an attempt to preserve whatever shreds of dignity he had left, Talla's comforting touches were rejected by one more harsh shove, and Crosshair repositioned himself so that he sat up straighter in the bed. The life support system was sucker punched so it'd stop shrieking even though it split open his knuckles. He tore off everything attached to his body in record time when the damn machine didn't listen to him, though when taking out inserted IVs he had to rip off the breathing mask not because it was annoying and uncomfortable, but because Crosshair had to retch into a container Talla held for him - an awful sting had wracked his body with prickling sensations and numbness and general needle-phobia symptoms.

Once recovered, with a face slightly red in embarrassment, Crosshair was going to chuck the stupid breathing mask across the room, but Talla caught it and amidst his childish protest's and struggles she easily dodged. It was reattached onto his face where it belonged with a stern look down at his defiant one. "They haven't cleared you to go without it yet so until they do, you need to keep the mask on." She tersely ordered, keeping her stronger hands on the mask to hold it in place.

The irate glare she received did not intimidate her in the least bit anymore. "I can breathe just fine." Was his muffled claim.

"Yeah, because the mask is on." Talla retorted with the same muffled tone. And it just reoccurred to him that the woman had enhanced senses and could undoubtedly notice his labored breaths from his mild freak out. And she did. When his shoulders slumped a little in defeat, Talla let go of his mask and readjusted hers back into position, being jostled while dealing with him. "A doctor is going to do a scan once they see your awake." It wouldn't be long now, considering the previous alarm from his monitor would signal a medic on standby.

A glimmer of panic flashed through Crosshair's eyes, but he promptly 'masked' it behind more defiance. "I don't want those kriffing long-necks anywhere near me."

Talla understood where the fear was coming from instead of putting him down for it - didn't mean he'd be allowed to refuse life-saving treatment though. "You don't have a choice, they've been treating you for three days now, and still have to make sure your body is healing properly." As he took in that piece of confusing information, questions piling up by the dozens, she went to go retrieve the chair Hunter had been previously occupying. "But now that you're sharing a room with me, I can make sure they don't try anything funny."

Crosshair flinched, his ears highly protested the sound of metal scraping against metal as she dragged the chair across the room, but his questions took precedence over his snarkiness. "The others?" He queried first, a little wounded they weren't here of all times - when Talla was in the hospital, Hunter never left her side unless they dragged him away.

The big white chair was plunked down right next to his bed, and Talla made herself as comfortable as possible. "The Doctors got tired of them hanging around and finally sent them away -"

"They actually left?" That wounded feeling festered, but he hid weak feelings with quick, crude jokes as usual. "Hmph, must have gotten sick too from the -" He drew a blank. Was thankfully saved with a short coughing fit that Oh My Force, unfortunately felt like he was hacking up his lungs and it kriffing hurt!

Since she experienced the same thing, Talla didn't exactly panic since it was only a few coughs. A few loud, drawn-out coughs that made did make her feel sympathy pains, but a medic in charge finally arrived to see what was going on, so things would be okay!

The brief checkup was very brief unfortunately. Crosshair resisted his every effort and answered the medic's questions with minimal words, lots of vulgar insults, and borderline karate chops to keep the filthy reg from laying a hand on him or coming near him with the kriffing scanner. Eventually, after narrowly dodging getting a black eye, the exasperated medic threw his hands up in the air, scanner flying to Force knows where, "FINE! You clearly don't need the mask while resting, but the specialist is arriving at any moment and HE can deal with your treatment from now on!" He stalked out of the room muttering a few choice words of his own.

Alone again, amused but annoyed Talla went more in depth with the first question, to get rid of at least half the piled questions. "No, the others aren't sick," That drew his steely eyes back to her, their sharpness easing up just a smitch after the reg was gone, "And they actually were going to bring in supplies to camp out in here with us, but when I told them that I was tired and needed some peace and quiet, they got the hint to kark off and leave us be, that I would defend us both if it came down to it." Crosshair's eyebrow snapped up in disbelief. "Well, Hunter got the hint," Talla admitted, fighting a smile when the event replayed in her mind, "And he dragged the other two out kicking and screaming."

Against his willpower, Crosshair's mouth twitched in amusement, "How sad, I missed the show." He remarked, for he rather enjoyed watching a good freak out that wasn't his own, having witnessed several in his lifetime and loving every amusing second of it.

Her smile was free to express itself now that she knew he found this funny like she did. "Eh don't worry, I'm sure there'll be plenty others, because Tech estimated another couple of days before your cleared to leave this hell pit."

This wasn't so funny, and Crosshair stiffened. 'A couple more days in this hell pit?!' Next he froze. 'Wait... A couple MORE DAYS -?!' "What am I doing here in the first place?" Was his next terse demand, he hated how weak and scared he sounded but under the circumstances he couldn't control it this time.

A line appeared on her forehead, and Talla leaned forward with concern that irked him because it confirmed he was sounding like an invalid, "You got Acute Cortosis Poisoning when we were trapped in the mine... don't you remember what happened?"

And suddenly, he did.

( FLASHBACK - CORTOSIS MINE - CROSSHAIR POV )

Being yanked up to Talla's perch, Crosshair yelped a curse when his shoulder threatened to pop out of its socket. He was about to tell her to lay off when another sizeable boulder from the other side tumbled down and cut the size of their small window of opportunity in half. With his broader shoulders Crosshair quickly calculated he'd never fit, even if she did rip his arm off. With a little shove from behind her told her to: "Go, get out of here." Except Talla resisted his shoves, frozen in her tracks! "Talla, GO!" He decided ordering in the most authoritative Acting Sergeant voice he'd ever used. 

"I won't leave you here!" She stubbornly refused. 

His anger spiked when she kept turning her head this way and that, thinking a Plan B would magically appear. There wouldn't be one, and she wasted her only opportunity to escape! Another boulder rammed into the exit! Next thing Crosshair knew, they were trapped in a dim and dusty prison cell, which became completely sealed off after the emergency doors activated and snapped shut moments later with a resounding CLANG!

"W hy didn't you escape when you got the chance, di'kut?!" He made sure to hiss at the woman who looked completely unperturbed about this whole thing. 

Hidden eyes focused on the doors, Talla didn't spare him a glance as she whipped out the trusty vibro strapped to her thigh, wordlessly jammed it in between the doors, and began her efforts to try prying them open, apparently. E yes fiery with contempt, Crosshair burned two holes into the back of her helmeted head, and because he was so angry, he didn't answer Hunter's multiple comms right away, not caring if the Sarge was freaking out. In his eyes, Crosshair had bigger issues. A kriffing stubborn teammate who maybe had a hero complex. 

GEEZ, Talla wanted him to be nicer, and when he did the nicest and most selfless act in the entire universe, she completely rebuffed him! And she told him that HE had mood swings?! What more could he do to make things right between them?! Nothing! He didn't believe anything else could prove his trust or loyalty to her!

💥 SNAP! 💥

Snubbed Crosshair thought it was divine providence that Talla was punished for her downright stupid rejection... by the breaking of her favorite vibro. Yes, his frustrations over that made him a hypocrite perhaps, considering he never went to go get his stinkin' broken jaw checked out because of HIS stubbornness, but in this instance, the Sniper felt it was justified. 

There was a tense pause of disbelief when both saw the blade and handle of Talla's favorite knife now in two pieces, the handle with some of the blade clenched in her fist and the rest of the broken blade still pried between the doors.

Then came the sewer mouth of a furious woman taught by him, the one and only Prince of Cussing. 🤬  "BLOODY MOTHERKARKING KARABASTS, LOOK WHAT YOU DID, SHABUIR!!! YOU BROKE MY KNIFE!!! THE KARK IS WRONG WITH YOU, KRIFFING PSHYCO BITCH!?!?"

And while she shouted vulgar obscenities of various languages at the doors, it made Crosshair wish he could see the regs mortified faces even if half of what she said didn't make real sense, feeling the rage he previously had fade away temporarily. He kinda felt like a proud 'Master' looking down at their excelling 'Padawan' - technically, if you think about it, his second padawan. Wrecker was his first. And Tech was Crosshair's 'Master' due to the fact it was Tech who started recording everything he learned on various planets and discovered the sentence enhancers known as 'expletives,' thus earning the title of King of Cussing when he introduced it to his little brother. Of course, this was one of the few things that piqued Crosshairs interest when sitting through the endless TECH-TALKS, and he is still even now always eager to learn new phrases, and has inadvertently been teaching them all to Talla.

"DANK FERRIK YOU KRIFFING PIECE OF BANTHA SHIT - !!!" Highly amused, Crosshair calmly spoke to Hunter, who promised they'd be out soon. "DAMMIT, THIS WAS MY FAVORITE KNIFE TOO, YOU MOTHERKARKING CLANKER WANNABE - !!!" And thankfully , Crosshair muted the commlink so Hunter wouldn't get a jump scare when Talla gave the doors a few dents in payback with her fists and knees, the sounds of impact deafening and pricking his own skull with dagger like figurative stabs.

Briefly, Crosshair dared to wonder if she'd be able to pry the doors open by herself now with so much rage. "I SWEAR TO THE V'HIINAN GODS, I'LL SHRED YOUR ASS INTO A KARKING SCRAP PILE AND SELL YOU TO THE JAWAS YOU SON OF A KRIFFING BITCHY BANTHA - !!!" But eh , probably best not to egg her on, being trapped in here with her and all.   Don't want to end up with collateral damage. Crosshair  mentally shrugged, then gave his one worded, annoyed answer to Hunter's back pedaling on the promise made not two minutes ago.

When there was a pause in her rant, Crosshair mistakenly thought Talla was done and since the show was apparently over, that previous irritation towards her came rushing back. He fell back on his habit - harsh criticism with no concern for her feelings right now. "Your precious knife would still be here if you'd just left me behind -"

Talla whirled on him, "Stow it, Crosshair!" And he resisted the urge to flinch. But when she bent down to, alarmingly, scoop up a stray rock the size of a nuna he did flinch that time, thinking it was meant for smashing against his bucketed head. He sweated bullets as she waved it around. "Yeah, I'm mad about the knife, it was my very first one, but I'd rather a broken keepsake than a dead teammate."

'She's not yelling anymore at the very least.' Crosshair had a terrible headache now, and he swore he wasn't looking for a bashed in skull on top of that except he couldn't help but ask after that little rant:  "Even me?" He was probably writing his own death sentence with this back talk, but his underlying insecurities forced him to ask it, wanting to see why she'd done this. Crosshair didn't get an answer earlier, and he wanted to know why the kriff she rejected his sacrifice considering that's what she wanted, right? For him to be nice? To like her? This is what he did for people he liked - well, 'tolerated' is more like it.  He did anything for people he tolerated when push came to shove, even at the expense of his own life or others.

"Especially you!" Talla said, incredulous he'd suggest otherwise it appeared. Not expecting this at all he froze, and would later on be thankful for the helmet covering his astonished face. This helmet prevented from showing one of the few times he let another emotion besides contempt, or annoyance, or anger freely express itself. "The first thing you guys taught me when you came back for me on Silva was that we don't leave our own behind, no matter what." Talla revealed to his frozen form. "And as much as you denied it I am - was a part of the Bad Batch."

Yup, there's that twinge of guilt again.

"But I know your brothers would prefer you over me when push comes to shove."

'Blast it! Now I feel like a heartless jerk again.' Crosshair didn't have to be a people person or even have people skills at all to pick up on the bitter tones behind that statement, which she tried to hide.

"And you know what, I don't want to live in a universe where you die and I live but we never got to patch things up properly - that would kill me, especially since I know you have a heart now."

That statement was like a slap in the face, but in a good way. It slapped Crosshair back to reality. Talla didn't reject his efforts out of a sense of entitlement after all. Rather, they finally proved to Talla that he 'tolerated' her now, which was the desired motive behind his actions up there. He'd predicted hoping in his last moments that Talla would see his newfound but all too late loyalty, and remember him in a good way at least, after she escaped. If he was a different person, perhaps someone like Talla or Wrecker too, Crosshair would've jumped for joy!

Instead, he just remained motionless and emotionless. 'Be still my black heart.'   He wanted to joke. The rock still in her hand and lack of places for him to duck and cover stopped him though.

"And I don't want your brothers to experience a loss like 99's again, because I'd never be able to live with myself with that outcome either." She put her hands on her hips, no doubt mocking his authoritative nature from earlier. "So, we're both getting out of here, and we're going to part ways as friends, and that's final!"

Talla never stopped amazing him - she somehow managed to make that sound like a threat. Talla threatened him with friendship.

Facing the door again while he remained stupefied, she raised her arm to slam the rock against it in a last act of revenge for her fallen blade. "Just shut up and let me have my moment and then I'll be fine."

If there were any niggling doubts about her being a horrible witch out to destroy them, it was squashed now. Talla was given the perfect opportunity to be rid of her tormentor and no questions would be asked, and she'd get off scotch free... yet she chose possible death with Crosshair over being able to save herself and live a life free of his callous ways. The woman who Crosshair was dead set on believing was out to destroy them chose to stay behind with him when it turned out he'd done nothing but being the one  actually doing the destroying. 'Maybe I should have just tried escaping myself and let her die. Damn her and her heart of kyber.' She took loyalty to the next level, making his efforts dim by comparison. Crosshair was envious of her natural abilities to be kind, despite suffering the same if not worse treatment under Nala Se's cruel regime.

But it was because of this short conversation that when the dire situation came up again where it was his life or hers, Crosshair could actually sacrifice himself with peace, something he previously could only hope would happen if the others couldn't break through the wall in time. He'd know beforehand that Talla saw the person behind the mask, so to speak, and his heart encased in frigid ice and protected behind a nearly impenetrable wall of bricks, covered in spikes for extra precaution. Showing he had the capability to have real feelings, let alone care for the feelings of others, was a something Crosshair rarely showed to his own brothers, and even he doubted it existed at times from everyone's offhand comments. He believed Tech's little chart labeled him as 'Severe and Unyielding'.

Showing raw emotions made Crosshair feel weak and opened the opportunities for ridicule and abuse, and he frankly didn't think it was worth it to be so straightforward with his affections if it brought along more suffering then feel-good moments. Until recently, his brothers put in the effort to notice the indirect things Crosshair did to show the feelings such as affection, or regret, or approval, or care. Sometimes, he secretly and depressingly felt like their own little list of friends only let him hang around with them because they enjoyed his brother's company, and Crosshair was the baggage that came along with those friendships.

Yet, if Talla was able to see his heart after every terrible thing he intentionally put her through, him intentionally showing it the only indirect, almost nonexistent way he knew, when he imagined no other outsider would ever bother to look... Well, maybe Crosshair didn't have to doubt himself so much. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

And to show his thanks, he secured his breathing tube onto her breathing apparatus and caught Talla before she face-planted after losing consciousness. He gave her a gentle squeeze in appreciation before letting out a gasp to release the hold on his breathing, and had just enough time to just as gently lay her down on the ground before the toxins accumulated in his airways and the violent choking began.

(END OF FLASHBACK)

"Hope you had a nice flashback." Talla jested when his eyes focused again. Crosshair had spaced out for an awkward spell of time. Didn't matter how long, it was utterly awkward and that's all she focused on. Next focus was on the bone Talla had to pick with him, and she made the dazed man focus on her with much difficulty, because it was just hitting him what almost happened. Her expression was dead serious, "Look, I know why you did what you did, but I never meant for you to commit suicide for me, and I don't want you trying to commit suicide for me ever again - understood?"

This demand rubbed him in all the wrong ways. 'She's rejecting my efforts again?!' His nostrils flared just as his temper flared. "You ungrateful little -"

Talla whipped off her breathing mask and that worked in silencing him. "Just let me finish!" She declared with an exasperated pitch. His jaw set, but he complied. "There are no words to describe how grateful I am, and how kriffing lucky you got, and you've earned my trust, just like I earned yours." A finger was jabbed in his face having a touch of yet more astonishment written on it. "But if you EVER pull a stunt like that again, I will bring you back to life and kill you again myself!" His shoulders released some tension when he saw it was just hitting her what could have happened too, and the potential case of survivors guilt she doubted would ever go away on account of what Talla said down there in the mine, about his brothers suffering more with his death than hers. "If we're going to part ways as friends before I leave, you've got to stop taking everything I say or do the wrong way."

Crosshair was point blank as well, "Then you have to stop taking everything I say and do so seriously - the others know that half of what I say or do is just a load of BS." It was a weird feeling being so open about his feelings, but this needed to be said too.

Her eyes developed a tiny squint. "If you mean from now on what you say towards me is going to be a load of BS, then fine! I firmly believe before the mission it wasn't, and there were healthier ways to communicate what was bothering you..." She remarked off handedly, right as always and causing that stupid, stupid ache in his chest from guilt, "And I still don't know why you treated me so badly, but I will build on this by saying: I'm really sorry about everything I said to you that was completely out of line. And I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I had no idea that whatever it was, it had hurt you."

His eyebrows raised in disbelief. Geez, she was a kriffing saint. No wonder it was easy for her to be taken advantage in the beginning, and Crosshair would have to find a way to train Talla to be a little more cautious with her tendencies to see the best in people and ignore the red flags. Talla got lucky with him, sort of, but the next time it could end differently.

Uncomfortable sensations coursed through his body: guilt, regret, the warm fuzzy feeling of friendship Talla was talking about a few days ago that she claimed he'd never feel. 'HELL NO!' He didn't like this and was going to stick to the prickly stringbean bit as it was safe, and safe was way better than sorry. "Quit apologizing - you're embarrassing yourself." He quipped. 

Nope, Talla was extra, always had been and always would be. To show the sincerity behind these apologies, she revealed a deep dark secret of hers, which also explained the feeling so bad about crossing into hypocrite waters when poking fun at his appearance. Pointedly not looking at his head he had yet to realize was half bald, Talla swept her thinned, greasy hair over her right shoulder and riddled with insecurity she tugged out a particular chunk of hair hidden a few centimeters behind left ear, this a particular flaw that'd been despised and hidden by the female clone for years. Crosshair's exceptional eyes immediately picked out the difference in coloration from this chunk and the rest of her black-purple hair through the faded fiery tones.

It appeared the 'Little-Miss-Perfect' had 'imperfect' silver hair of her own.

"See? I guess I'm prematurely old too." She joked to cover up her embarrassment, then quickly tucked it back into its hidden spot while raising her pointer finger like Tech. "And fun fact: my eyes aren't even supposed to be grey! My genetic hosts eyes were actually brown, and my skin tone is also three shades lighter than hers. I was also, roughly, two inches taller than her by the end of my cadet career, and she had nowhere near as much muscle mass as I do so -" There was a sheepish shrug, "I was a hypocrite too, heh." 😅

Well, this had been fun and all but they were going out of his comfort zone now. Touchy Feely was too Touchy and too Feely, and they were in fact sitting around, perhaps not in a circle but they were talking about their feelings and messing with hair had been dragged into the mix somehow. A change in subject was in order, "Why were you wearing that thing?" Crosshair asked after a seemingly blank and long, uninterested stare, flicking his eyes to the mask deposited onto her lap that she clearly didn't need anymore.

Talla didn't have a chance to get frustrated at him, having a spilt second to reattach said monstrosity before someone knocked on the door to the room to signal their arrival before opening the door... Someone who they were never expecting to see in a million lifetimes here, of all places, and did in fact get grey hairs of his own since the last time he successfully treated a member of their squadron. Not even crossing the threshold of her room yet, his opening line was dry and already showed signs of exhaustion. "Special Agent Talla - how not nice to see you again." The very Clone Medic from her hospital stay on Coruscant greeted, hands clasped behind his back with a tight smile.

Gears visibly turned in Talla's head. 'The Specialist who'd had great success in treating them before -'

Meanwhile Crosshair ironically sneered at the regs crude tone, to which the medic immediately added, stepping into the room with a hand up, "Don't take that greeting the wrong way -"

"Is there a right way to take that?" Crosshair challenged, coming to Talla's defense despite his less than stellar physical health.

The medic gestured innocently with his hand, "Well yes, there is."

'Yeah, right.' Crosshair scoffed, followed by a few excruciating coughs.

Medic Mode engaged, the reg went to retrieve the scanner, "It's always unfortunate for a medic to see the same patient a second time -" He briefly turned away from the cabinet he was searching, "Crosshair, is it?" Not waiting for an answer because he already knew, he turned back and pushed aside some medical supplies, "Usually when a soldier comes back with grave injuries, the Kaminoans and even the Republic want to pay as little money as possible to fix up war machines they've already shelled out heaps of credits for - " With furrowed brows he still didn't find the scanner. "... Surgeries or cybernetics are expensive treatments for a life meant to be completely expendable..." Puzzled, he left the cabinet and began a sweep of the various surfaces, "And not to mention the risk of lower performance levels despite all that effort to save them -"

The two patients followed his movements and shared a look of amusement when he finally had to duck under Talla's bed across the room, made an 'aha!' noise, and stretched an arm to retrieve the tossed scanner. "Frankly, it costs less to pop out a new clone from the tanks then to maintain the badly battered one's multiple times." He stretched a little further, straining his arm muscles to the max. "So, if a soldier comes back again and again with grave injuries, the chances of him - or her! -" He grunted with the extra effort needed to reach it, "Going back out there gets drastically lower each time -!" He made a noise of triumph when the scanner was successfully grabbed, "As the risk of decommissioning gets exponentially higher due to the risks of not performing at the level they did before."

Upon standing with a ghost of a lofty grin on his face, he snapped his fingers at the amused Talla, indicating for her to sit at the edge of Crosshairs bed so he could have the chair, and she obeyed, and once he sat down the Medic finished his long, overly explanatory 'TECH-TALK.' His speech patterns even sounded like Tech's! "What I meant by the cold manner of my greeting was: when I'm so lucky as to be able to send my gravely injured brothers - or other - back into the field in near perfect health, I hope to never see them again. I imagine them fighting on bravely, possibly even better than before and right up to the Republics victory. And then once the war is over, they'll live long and happy lives and can be free to do whatever they want, make a life for themselves with choices they made."

Talla was fully intrigued and sympathetic as opposed to her bored companion, "That's not a realistic view of the situation, Doc." She admonished. 

"I'm surrounded by realities all day every day, Agent Talla." He flatly replied, and her face fell, "I have to see many ghastly sights each day, and like you I don't have a choice in my career - I also swore an oath I had no say in taking or refusing." She never thought about it that way before. 😖 "So please, let me have my fantasies about my recovered patients, because it gets me through each horrible day." Is all he asked of her, "I may not be out there shooting down clankers, but with this job one has to hope to keep on going, the hope that their efforts will not be wasted. We're aware clone troopers are meant to be expendable, but I hold some power to make them not be thrown away like a used tissue, and no matter what you say I will cling to the hope that when I send back out my healed patients, my handiwork has ensured they've lived to fight not just another day, but till the end of the war." His stoniness was betrayed by his eyes, which revealed the months and months of pain he'd endured and still felt since the day the war began.

Talla wondered if he'd been one of the first clone medics to treat injured soldiers after the Battle of Geonosis, and really wanted to hear more of his story. But thoroughly done spilling his guts, the medics attention was snapped back to the equally uncomfortable Sniper. "Now Crosshair, I do need to perform a scan -" Menacingly, he waved the cursed medical tool in his direction, "But are you going to do this willingly, or does Agent Talla need to hold you down?" An all-knowing look was sent her way when the Agent's eyes flicked down to her breathing mask, indicating she was clearly in no position to help out, DUH. "You can stop pretending to be on your deathbed, because I know you're really not." Defiance taught to her by the best teachers in the galaxy made her want to keep up the ploy regardless of that completely accurate accusation, till her last fighting breath if need be, which was 'frightfully near' sadly. "You think you're the first soldier to fake a relapse or injury in order to stay close to their comrade in arms?" The Medic inquired with a slight upturn of the corners of his lips when Talla was absolutely gob-smacked at his above average intelligence compared to the other regs here, who bought this ruse. "I'm not going to report you," He assured her, "But if you're going to continue trying to fool everyone else you should at least cough every once in a while, or pretend to be short of breath after simply walking across the room, and now that I'm here I'll vouch for you to make sure you're not suspected and can stay in here with your buddy." His promise to play along with her lies was firm and true and in complete contrast to his rigid ways of being a stickler to things always being done just so. With a mischievous twinkle appearing in his eyes and a curious twinkle glimmering in hers he offered, "I'll say your undergoing more treatment and being kept here for observation, then when Crosshair is set to be released you can make the fastest comeback in medical history," A breathy chuckle was followed by, "And the damn long-necks won't be able to do anything about it."

She nodded once, than had to ask, "What's your name? Not your birth number, but your real name?" She made sure to add afterwards, just so there was no confusion like her first time hearing about that one and only cool feature which came with being a clone. What kind of name to symbolize his personality and capabilities did he give himself, or his clique of brothers did if he had one?

Taken aback, a few blinks of his eyes were her only reply at first until he settled his features into neutral. "Convor."

*crickets*

Well that was not at all what she was expecting. "'Convor?'" Talla repeated with a few confused blinks of her own.

Crosshair was the same. This was just too weird, even for his life. "Isn't that a type of liver?"

"Yeah, like that expression says?" Talla finished, "What am I, chopped convor liver? You named yourself after some animals internal organ?"

That mischievous twinkle was backed up by a conceited upturn of 'Convor's' mouth. "Convorees are a common, domesticated species of birds that just so happen to be sneaky and observant. They watch and wait for the perfect opportunities to defend themselves and their allies from crafty predators."

And it all made sense now, the fact he was so willing to help Talla fool the doctors. 'Ooo, clever!' The smirk was returned to show her approval. "Well Convor, your definitely all those and on top of that way smarter than all these crafty long necks combined." 

Crosshair rolled his eyes, hoping for a more interesting story. Though, at least the reg wasn't as boring and predictable as others, but not by much. And there was way too much touchy feely now. He didn't care about some random regs name. He just wanted to go home so things would go back to normal.

Convor was short and humble with his thank you, having spilled way too much of his guts now then he would have liked, showing emotions allowing an opportunity for patients to think they could manipulate him. The impassive mask was put up again, and the reg medic shifted the focus back onto the Sniper again with a raise of the scanner and his challenging brow. "Willingly, or restraints?"

In stressful moments like these were when Crosshair craved the comfort of a toothpick the most. To his relief, a guardian angel apprehended this type of situation beforehand - Talla wordlessly pulled out his emergency stash pack from her boot and handed it to him, the contraband brought in by his brothers earlier. Surprised but not ungrateful, this coping mechanism allowed the Sniper to not karate-chop Convor when scanned by the blue gridded light over his body.

Convor stepped away to compare the data to his charts on a lightpad, and Crosshair used this opportunity to put this whole mistrust thing to rest, so there'd be no more kriffing misunderstandings. And it was done in a way that catered to his anti-social tendencies - a precious toothpick of his emergency stash was offered to her. "Truce?" He put forth, face devoid of all emotion just in case it backfired, not wanting to be at risk for being vulnerable to someone who still wanted to ridicule him. Though, Crosshair felt that was a low chance considering Talla faked a relapse to stay by his side.

Short and sweet but it got the point across. There was a beat of stunned silence, because Talla knew he didn't offer his toothpicks to anyone, then ✨giddiness✨ that they were friends now! But she kept her cool to keep him from ridiculing her bubbliness, just in case he felt like being an ass just to be an ass, though she knew now it was just BS. "Truce." A toothpick was accepted with a playful lilt of her tone and smirk that removed the seriousness from his demeanor instantly, "Even though I would've kicked your butt." Talla claimed, perching the toothpick between her teeth.

Now this was a tone of conversation Crosshair was comfortable with. Chuckling, he folded his arms and relaxed his aching body as much he could against the lumpy mattress's back, eyes closing shut. "Keep telling yourself that, 'cyar'ika.'"

Oh, he knew what nerves to strike. But instead of getting angry Talla was more annoyed at the stupid pet name that was supposed to be a term of endearment instead of making her feel like her skin was crawling. "Would you quit calling me that?"

Sharp brown orbs momentarily peeked out in challenge, "Would you quit calling me 'Crossy?'"

With childlike moodiness, Talla crossed her arms and huffed, "I'll only stop if you stop calling me cyar'ika first."

Frown deepening in mild disappointment, Crosshair tried shifting around the stupid lump poking at his side, "That goes for me too." He muttered in finality. 

Eye twitching, Talla removed the toothpick from her teeth. "Being friends is going to be harder than we thought, isn't it?"

"No, it's won't." Crosshair denied instantly, not opening his eyes.

"Yes it will." She pressed.

An eye popped open, "No, it's won't." Crosshair denied, yet again, through gritted teeth. 

Talla wanted to have the last say, "Yes, it will -"

A vein on Crosshair's head throbbed. "No. It. Won't." He enunciated, being the one who always had the last word, and not in the mood to be pestered. 

By now, Talla was just messing with him, fighting a grin. Crosshair had less control over himself from the medications he was hyped up on. "Yes, it will -"

"NO. IT. WON'T -" 

"Behave, children." Convor flatly interjected, eyes not leaving the light pad he was transferring data onto.

They obeyed. And the peace lasted a whopping fourteen seconds - a new record!

After putting her toothpick back in her mouth, Talla reached out and connected her hand with Crosshair's laying on the mattress just as he relaxed again. His protests were immediate since he couldn't wrench his hand away, the woman tightening her hold when he tried. "Remove the hand, or lose the hand."

Those threats worked on Wrecker most times, but Talla was not afraid of him anymore and gave him a lofty look. "You almost died for me, so I'll hold your damn hand if I want to." Crosshair made a show of rolling his eyes, for he of course could never show such weakness as actually enjoying the comfort it secretly brought him. She needed to buck up. "Consider yourself lucky that I'm not doing what Wrecker tried earlier - squeezing into bed next to you and cuddling you like his tooka doll." Talla made sure to tell him. 

Speaking of Lula -

Crosshair made a noise of disgust, trying to relax again, only this time he found he had had enough of that annoying lump and with difficulty, only having one hand, he twisted and felt around for whatever was making his bed do kriffing uncomfortable. Out came a particular, aforementioned tooka doll with a warped face as it had somehow been crushed under him. "What is this doing here?" Crosshair asked despite having an inkling, seeing Wrecker's reasoning for this time around - he never bringing Lula into a hospital if they ever went, for there was a high risk of it being swiped when he wasn't looking.

"Instead of being able to cuddle you like Lula, he brought you Lula to cuddle instead." :)

The Sniper quickly shoved the toy under the blanket before Convor rejoined their little playdate, the medic's eyes trained on the datapad. "Now, Crosshair, I'm sure you've been made aware of the side effects you'll experiencing until you're recovered?"

"... Am I aware that I feel like bantha shit?" Crosshair mocked, and allowed a few hacking coughs to happen instead of holding them back, "No, not at all." Crosshair wheezed, and Talla squeezed his hand despite the exaggeration.

Unamused Convor lazily raised his head to look at him. "A very informative answer, thank you. No, the symptoms I'm specifically referring to here are of course the coughs, and the nausea spells, vomiting, the headaches, the aches and pains, the hair loss -"

Talla made a few frantic, slashing gestures over her neck that literally said, 'Cut it out!' but it was all too little too late.

Crosshair stiffened, slowly shot her a hard-to-read look, then another one back at the expectant medic. With painfully slow movements he reached up and touched his hair... or rather lack of it. He touched a spot that was a mixture of smooth and spiked with almost nonexistent tufts of surviving hair.

He didn't throw a fit as loud or as dramatic as Talla's earlier one, but amidst his muttered curses rivaling her V'hiina Mine Freakout of the Year, the Agent was in a frenzy trying to console him, saying she thought he was going to look just fine once Hunter was able to shave off the odds and ends! He would look good bald!

It wasn't a very consoling argument for the second most conceited man in the Bad Batch, who'd never dared completely shave his unique, silver toned locks before.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

(DAY 39 w/ THE BAD BATCH)

The estimated two days it took for Crosshair to be given the all clear to leave was interesting, to say the least. With Talla and Crosshair being roommates, there was never a dull moment. It was fun but exhausting; great to have a buddy when surrounded by the stuff of their nightmares but also terrible not having their own privacy; it gave them a chance to bond but also made them realize they were grateful for a) having separate refreshers and bedrooms and b) well, that was pretty much it.

Those paradox's aside, Talla was overcome with a gloomy cloud over her head as opposed to happiness when her new friend was cleared to leave the hospital. Because it also meant that the time had come for her to leave, just as she promised.

They all went their separate ways once they reached the Marauder - Crosshair to the couches with Wrecker who begged him and Tech to watch something, anything with him after two whole days of being cooped up in a boring hospital with no access to entertainment; Hunter went to the cockpit to fly them away from this infested hell pit and set a course for the Glam Squad's homeworld; and Talla trudged to her room, unaware of the Sniper fighting a foreboding sensation weighing heavily on his chest that she'd come right back out and rip him to shreds.

Because it turned out, Talla wasn't going to be rid of them that easily. When Talla entered into her room with slumped shoulders, she fully expected to see the crates of her gear unmoved and ready to transport with ease, and planned to say the tough goodbyes on Coruscant.

Taken aback were not descriptive enough words to accurately express what she felt at seeing everything... unpacked? Out of storage and back into their proper places more or less? And a copy of a unique Nala Se target practice poster Hunter made for a certain prickly stringbean upon special request, now hanging on her wall by the droid poster.

That was obviously Crosshair's own handy work. How she knew was because of droid posters of Nala Se, which he kept in his Firepuncher case that no one was supposed to touch and everyone heeded to that threat with nary a peep. And it told her that not only were they friends, but Crosshair was also willing to share his home with her too. Talla was no longer a pest infesting his home, but someone he had grown used to having around... A person he tolerated and was now fiercely loyal too, a feat not to be taken lightly with the mistreated man.

I.E. - 'I DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE!!!!!!' :DDDDD

Talla didn't even question how Crosshair knew where most everything in her room went nor when he did all this, considering he'd been released at the exact time she made the comeback of the year with her poisoning relapse. A surge of happiness she'd never known was capable of being felt caused Talla to bound into the common area with the intent to shower him in Thank You's and hugs galore, even if he hated it.

But she paused before making her presence known, the loud holovids masking her footsteps stopping just behind the lounges. It occurred to her that Crosshair might be currently sweating bullets for going into her room without asking, as he should. The perfect opportunity presented itself to play on his potential guilt by collecting herself, squaring her shoulders and marching in front of his spot on the couch, casting an unreadable look down at him.

He slowly met Talla's gaze when the intimidating shadow cast over him, blocking his view from the show. His face was devoid of all emotion, but inside Crosshair was fully preparing to and not above pinning the whole thing on the real culprits who dared to venture into her chambers.... on his request.

Talla folded her arms. "Get up," She curtly ordered. 

That didn't sound promising, and Crosshair mentally apologized to his brothers while slowly obliging her. He took this exaggeratingly long moment to ponder how strange it was that with other people, his height aided him in intimidation factors with his victims. Around Talla though, a whole ten inches shorter than him, he realized you didn't need height, or even bulky muscles to be intimidating. She just had this aura about her, something in her gazed...

And he decided right here and now he was never getting a girlfriend.

He was glad he never had a mother.

And maybe friendship with this scary lady wasn't so appealing after all. He braced himself for the reprimanding.

"I've been respectful of your boundaries, and you weren't respectful of mine -"

Out came the childish finger pointing to save his skin. "It wasn't me, it was - !"

Talla raised a hand. "I'm not finished." And it effectively shut his mouth. "Now, I think it's only fair I get a chance to disrespect your boundaries."

'Oh dear lord, what have I sentenced myself to?' Crosshair resisted the action of gulping, wanting to go out at least looking like he wasn't afraid. Though he supposed she could sense it regardless. 

Unexpectedly, Talla spread her arms. "I'm gonna hug you now."

'...Oh God, please no.' That was even worse than a verbal or physical smackdown for Crosshair.

"And you're not going to resist for at least the first three seconds -" She became smug while the will to live left Crosshair, "I mean, I guess you can resist, but I'm not going to give you false hope by the empty promise I'll let go if you're too uncomfortable."

Intrigued from the beginning and shoveling mantell mix into his mouth, Wrecker and by extension Tech watched as Crosshair had a mental battle with himself, wondering if he was calculating the odds of him being able to outrun her.

He was. They weren't promising results in the end. His shoulder's slumped a little. "Do I have to?" Crosshair still asked, sounding as much as a whiny teen as a guy like him could sound like.

And like an unshakeable parental figure Talla didn't back down, "Yes."

If Tech was the Drama Queen, Crosshair was the bloody Drama Emperor as he heaved the biggest and most dramatic sigh in the universe, as if hugging her would be worse than say, jumping into a nest of gundarks. Almost vibrating in giddiness held back by all the restraint she possessed, Talla lost that control when all hope of evading this faded from his eyes. "Fine." Crosshair spat. 

A wide grin plastered on Talla's face. Crosshair grunted when she made impact with his nearly recovered torso. Nearly. As in, it would already be hard enough to breathe with her squeezing him, but with sore lungs, "That's fine, I don't need to breathe anyways." He wheezed.

It wasn't even halfway through this torture session when Wrecker yelled, "GROUP HUG!" He scooped up unsuspecting Tech from the couch, skipped over and squished him with the others he gathered up in his arms. And you know, this was already great, but this first designated group hug sesh with their official, unanimously approved new buddy would be perfect if it wasn't missing a certain Sergeant -

Who walked in at the wrong moment, and tried noping out of that situation undetected.

But Wrecker was all seeing in this situation, hyper aware that if their first group hug was going to be perfect, the leader needed to be a part of it too! "If you fight it now, I'll just hug ya later!"

'Oh God, him and Talla are two peas in a pod,' Crosshair lamented. They threatened the non-Touchy-Feelys with Touchy Feelys. No way in hell was he going to suffer alone though, and the Sniper backed up Wrecker's threat/promise. "And I'll make sure it'll happen in the middle of the night, when you're sleeping like a little angel." He hissed to the best of his ability, hopefully hallucinating those black dots clouding his vision out of hypochondria.

Hunter didn't have a chance to retort if that 'LITTLE angel' comment referred to his so-called vertical challenges, Wrecker waddling over and squishing him into the bundle too. With so many people squished within two arms that seemed to have a large span from a distance, neither Hunter nor Tech, nor especially Crosshair and Talla jam packed in the middle found they could vocalize their protests, having their internal organs turned to mush. "Aw, this is nice." Wrecker said, giving the two on the outside little pats of affection on their backs.

But as corny as it sounded, Talla didn't care about having her internal organs turned to mush.

It was made obvious by everyone now she was wanted here. Everyone in this squadron believed she belonged here with them. Being wanted and belonging somewhere was all Talla had ever wanted for as long as she could remember.

✨

✨

✨

*bonus scene*

(KALIIDA - TWO DAYS AGO - MORNING )

Hunter managed to find a moment the night before being released to tell Crosshair about Talla's packed bags. So it was when Hunter was ordered the next morning by Convor to take Talla on a walk around the medical station 'for building stamina,' that the Sniper put his plan into motion to keep Talla from leaving without getting all sappy with hugs, heartfelt speeches and crap.

He played on Wrecker's fussy tendencies and Tech's want to keep things calm, but was honestly sincere when he humbly asked a favor of them, knowing Tech had been in Talla's room at some point or another, and Wrecker would be an eager assistant helping him put things back into their places, more or less.

They nearly botched the whole operation with Wrecker's terrible acting skills as he excused them both to go 'Scrub the carbon scoring off the ships exterior' VOLUNTARILY AND WITH PERFECT GRAMMER, and Tech's obvious face-palming didn't help either, nor did Wrecker having to put a hand over his little brothers trap to haul the blabbermouth out of there, before he spoiled the surprise neither didn't know needed to happen to make Talla feel, finally, a part of their team.

Crosshair had never hoped for something to work out so fiercly in his life. And thank the V'hiinan Gods the two knuckleheads somehow pulled it off after that horrid display of keeping a straight face under pressure.

The Sniper thought he'd taught them better than that.

Chapter Text

🎯   First Night as Roommates   🐺

(KALIIDA - DAY 38 w/ THE BAD BATCH - EARLY MORNING)

Have you ever slept in the same room as a person who snores?

Crosshair had loads of experience, having used to share barracks and a very tiny ship with Wrecker not that long ago, which is why he had originally adapted to the sound of sawing logs, which if you think about it was not a hard accomplishment considering his unusual capabilities of falling into a kriffing coma when choosing to get some rest. There were some good(ish) things about growing up on Kamino, he reluctantly supposed.

But he had had his own room for just over a month now. AND he was in a hospital now. He was in an unfamiliar yet nightmarishly familiar environment, surrounded by unfamiliar and filthy medical personal he hated, he was shot up full of unfamiliar medications that he would have fought till the death to refuse if need be.

But Hunter reminded Crosshair that he needed to get better, so there wouldn't be a reason given to Nala Se to decommission him. As much as they said they were eager to blow her off the face of the planet, neither Bad Batcher actually wanted the entire Republic gunning for them at present, not if it could be avoided. At least it was a sorta tolerable reg giving the meds, one who definitely didn't like Nala Se.

So, you'd think Talla's presence would be a comfort to Crosshair throughout that first long night, when he tossed and turned uneasily from the nightmare circumstances he was in.

...

No, no she was not a comfort because TALLA WAS THE CAUSE OF THE NIGHTMARE CIRCUMSTANCES THAT CAUSED ALL HIS TOSSING AND TURNING.

Whether her snoring that could wake up the dead was due to recovering from the touches of lung problems, or she just kriffing snored already and he never knew about it, Crosshair didn't really care after rolling into hour two of listening to this. Shocking that he lasted so long, I know, but he figured the fine-tuned skills of sleeping through anything would kick in and he'd pass out as per usual, like he did during a Kaminoan hurricane, which Talla could go to head with on the noise levels. There'd be moments of silence on her part and blissful dream land would start falling upon him, then Talla started up again, somehow getting louder and louder each time, which Crosshair didn't know how it was biologically possible.

He was surprised the hospitals alarm systems hadn't been activated! With a growl of annoyance, the stupid tooka doll was yeeted across the room with all his strength and despite the room being almost pitch black it hit smack dab right onto Talla's face.

*snort* Groggy Talla shot upwards, "Wha-?" She instinctively reached for the blaster under her pillow while asking, "Are we under attack -?" Her eyes bugged out when there was nothing to grab, and the pillow was swiped away, "Where's my -?!"

"You snore worse than Wrecker." Crosshair snarled. Then he fluffed his pillow, shifted away from her and laid back down with an annoyed huff.

Talla blinked, brain circuits not quite fired up yet, then noticed the fallen tooka doll on the disgusting hospital floor and Crosshair curling up in his bed, already halfway to dreamland now with the sweet, sweet silence.

A pink tint dusted Talla's cheeks in embarrassment by the claim laid at her feet. "I don't snore!"

"I got war flashbacks to the earthquake down in the mine." Crosshair dryly murmured halfway into his pillow, mentally telling her to 'Shut her trap.'

Her entire face felt like it was on fire now, "I don't snore -" She insisted through gritted teeth. 

Crosshair pushed his upper body off the mattress so he could pin her with a warning glare. "Just put on the breathing mask, then we'll both be happy." 

"Tch - I won't be happy!" 

"Fine, I'll be happy, and if I'm happy then I won't use the scalpel next time I try shutting you up." Crosshair crudely forewarned.

Talla's dramatic groan of defeat gave him a tiny smirk in triumph, and he settled back into a comfortable position. The only reason Talla conceded was because she knew Crosshair never missed, that sharp medical instrument was within his reach for some reason, and without wearing mask she'd be the one ending up having to sleep with one eye open instead. At least this way, they'd both get some sleep. She was nothing if not adaptable. Sleeping on her back was not comfortable for Talla as she preferred curling up on her side, but hey it could be worse - she could have a sharp object lodged in her eye.

But she learned soon after Crosshair didn't need to hurl objects at her head to deal with her. Prickly stringbean packed quite a punch without throwing items. Literally.

When Crosshair started sawing logs himself just as she was slipping off, Talla rolled her eyes at the cruel irony. "And the Jawa calls the Ewok short," She chuckled mirthlessly under the mask, swung her legs over the side of her bed and trudged to his bed, and had planned to give the estimated shoves that would wake him so he could be ordered to put on a mask too. Thing was, under normal circumstances it took two or five shoves before Crosshair startled awake with the fist of fury, so Talla's guard wasn't exactly up when she gave that first AND ONLY shove -

Stars then blackness took over her.

Next thing Talla was aware of was someone lightly smacking her face. The left side of her jaw was pulsating, she was awkwardly hunched over the Kaminoan chair by Crosshair's bed, and various medical tools strewn about that fell from the table she collided with before landing, and speaking of Crosshair he was the one knelt by her and held her head up by chin with one hand and smacked her non-hurting with the other, going between muttering curses at himself or little phrases at her aimed at trying to get her to wake up.

Knowing her yet to be tamed explosive temper, Crosshair fully expected to face repercussions for his unforgiving strike to her jaw. Yet helping the unsteady woman back to her bed, the only response Crosshair got was the curt request that he wear a breathing mask too, 'cause he snored. Wordlessly, her personal mask was reattached, she laid back down, and he was completely baffled that was as far as the incident was being taken... with him at least.

The true object of her fury wasn't revealed until the other Bad Batchers returned first thing. As Convor was examining her already black and blue jawbone - dang, Talla didn't know Crosshair could punch THAT BAD - Hunter of course asked two seconds after arriving, 'What the blaze's happened to your face?' Convor released her so Talla could say to him, or rather she hissed at him the best she could, "You're lucky I don't do this to you, Sarge."

Crosshair raised a brow, Wrecker's happy grin faded into true terror and he clutched his retrieved Lula doll tighter, Tech alarmingly looked up from tapping away on his datapad, and even Convor paused his action of deciding between bacta gel or a bacta patch and flashed a concerned glance.

Talla was mad at Hunter.

Talla never got mad at Hunter. At least not openly. Even when he was being a jerk right after 99's death, she held back.

"I just realized why ya'll are so reluctant to wake Crosshair up, and the fact that before the Kamino invasion you sent in the newbie, without any warnings -" Shaking her head in disappointment she glowering at him, "That's low. And if I was a less mature person, like a certain prickly stringbean who apparently has a deadly uppercut, I'd pay you back for this."

Oops.

Seeing the tiniest bit of color drain from Hunter's stoic face, that was a funny enough sight that Crosshair let that pass about his maturity slide.

Their fearless Sergeant was in the doghouse.

Truth be told, it wasn't taken further after that either. And it was because of the unspoken and unknown translation of the actually filtered threat in Talla's mind: "If I didn't have a little crush on you, you'd have to wear a matching red mask to cover the permanently crooked jaw I'd give you. But since I do kinda like you, I don't want to do something that will make you not like me, even though we'd never... yeah."

But Hunter did sleep with one eye open for a little while, just in case she snuck up on him. With the skills Talla displayed on V'hiina, he didn't doubt she'd find a way if she allowed herself to be so driven by revenge. 'Fight fire with explosions,' like she always said.

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🎯   First Day as Roommates   🐺

(AFTER LUNCH)

It seemed that Convor was valid in his 'cold manner of greeting' and Hunter actually sympathized with the reg, coming across the sight he walked into after escorting Wrecker and Tech to the mess hall for lunch (for obvious reasons 🙄).

It looked innocent at first glance - Crosshair and Talla, sitting side by side on the side of the formers bed, each with a toothpick between their fingers. It was when the toothpicks were expertly flicked across the room with spot-on accuracy, impaling a homemade target on Talla's bed - a simple foam cup they'd somehow gotten a hold of and perched between Lula's ears - that's when the concern kicked in. Crosshair was actually hitting the target with spot-on accuracy, and it seemed he was teaching Talla how to, if the sharp projectiles impaling the lightpad in front of her and cracking its screen had anything to say about it. Of course, Lula had the lightpad perched in front of her, to protect from the sharp projectiles Talla hurled at unnatural speeds because NO ONE MESSED WITH LULA.

And that's why Hunter was concerned, because if Talla could turn normal things, even tiny things like toothpicks into deadly weapons, he'd never be safe from her wrath no matter where he stood in a room nor even what room he stood in even if she couldn't aim them properly.

Crosshair would pay to see that happen, which is why he was teaching her. He snickered when Talla missed the target yet again, not even flinching at the sound of another crack exploding on the lightpad, like Hunter did. "And I thought you were this undefeatable super soldier."

"Stow it, Crosshair." She snapped, and was already picking out another toothpick from the container between them, determined to get this right, "This is different than aiming a blaster, and I'm all hyped up on painkillers for the broken jaw, remember?" She squinted at her fingers through her fuzzy mind, getting the toothpick perched into her fingers ready to flick again, "I just have to get the logistics down..."

While Wrecker bet five credits with Tech, Hunter didn't want to ask, but he exasperatingly did anyways: "Why are you shooting toothpicks?"

"We're improvising." Crosshair said, not taking his eyes off the woman next to him who was raising her left hand up to position.

"Cause doc took away the syringes." Talla added, closing one eye to zero in at the target.

"... You used syringes as darts?"

"Aw man! Can't believed I missed the show!" Wrecker comically lamented, then got all excited when Talla flicked.

They both sighed in disappointment when it was the stupid lightpad impaled again, instead of the target. "Yeah, and he was completely mean about it too, even when we told him this would help us get over our fear of needles." Another toothpick was calmly taken out, "Then he took away all the scalpels and other sharp stuff when we improvised and then got bored, so we improvised again."

"You should be proud." Crosshair simpered in his direction while Talla aimed once more.

Hunter folded his arms and referred to the near empty container in between the pair. "I'm shocked actually - you're wasting your emergency stash."

"Actually, I found some in the Mess Hall - that's how we 'out-thought' him and improvised." Talla smirked also, just as Convor returned from hiding the stash he's taken awag.

And ended up in the line of fire.

*flick*

"OW!"

Talla froze in shock.

Convor clutched his victimized arm to his chest, a toothpick sticking out of the pricked and irritated flesh of his bicep.

Except Cross and Wreck snickered, Tech's jaw became slack, and Hunter... would have been shocked if something like this DIDN'T HAPPEN.

A nervous giggle from the sheepish Agent was followed by a sheepish wave greeting to the man dangerously close to the brink of insanity, "Hi."

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🎯 They're Still Fighting About Showers, Guys   🐺

(KALIIDA - DAY 39 w/ THE BAD BATCH - EARLY MORNING)

There was a thunderous knocking on the metal door of the Sniper and Agents private refresher. "Talla, you've been in there for half an hour - Get out!" Crosshair demanded as loudly as he could with the lingering sore throat he had.

"In a minute!" Was her muffled, completely misleading promise since Crosshair didn't hear the running shower be turned off yet again.

She'd been saying one minute for the last THIRTY minutes. Crosshair didn't think it was possible for someone to take a thirty-minute shower, but here they were. What the heck does someone do in the shower for thirty minutes?! Sergeant Luscious Locks himself managed with the seven or so minutes Talla set aside for him the other guys each free day, and he looked fine. "I find it amazing how you can calculate jumps to hyperspace faster than a clanker, but can't tell the difference between one minute and thirty."

"And I find it amazing how you can sit around for hours waiting for the perfect time to snipe out a tactical clanker or some other high ranking Seppie Scum, but can't wait a few extra measly minutes to use the shower!" Talla shot back.

Much to his surprise, he heard the squeak of the shower nozzle and the sound of raining water stopped. Throwing up his hands with a muttered 'Finally,' an expectant Crosshair leaned against the wall by the door, folding his arms. "The war will be over if I have to wait a few extra measly minutes by your definition."

Talla's voice was laced with honey and ridicule, "If it's an emergency, Crosshair, you know there's always the communal refreshers and showers."

She won this round, because there was no way Crosshair was going into reg infested territory. He could feel the smirk of triumph from behind the closed door as she of course knew this fact. But he didn't give Talla the satisfaction of letting her hear him growl in frustration, just silently thumped his patchy haired head against the cold metal of the wall, and with no more complaints waited for his turn that was hopefully not too far off.

... And he kept waiting. For a long time.

Crosshair was appalled five whole minutes later, 'What the heck is she still doing in there?!' 

Next came the frustrating realization at ten minutes, 'She's doing this on purpose.' 

Then finally, FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER the door whooshed open, and Talla sauntered out dressed in fresh hospital garb with her damp and damaged hair pulled into a simple low ponytail, a beyond easy peasy look that definitely didn't need to take up fifteen minutes in the refresher. Crosshair pushed himself away from the wall, and didn't waste time before ragging on her, "You know, there are deprived children in the galaxy who could desperately use all the clean water you waste on a daily basis."

Across the room, Talla rolled her eyes at his flair for the dramatics, "Okay okay - I'm sorry." And plopped backwards onto her hospital bed.

Crosshair humphed in disbelief, going to his bed and retrieving the fresh set of clothing. "I didn't take into account that I'd have been saving the Republic an exorbitant amount of funds if I just left you down there in the mine."

"Hey, I wanted to wash all the hospital grossness off of me," Talla feigned sheepishness, "But -" Crosshair sharply turned before entering the refresher. The embarrassed smile thrown his way was completely fake, "After all that effort I still feel a bit gross, so I'm just going to have to suck it up and wait till we get back to the Marauder before taking a proper shower."

"Lovely." Crosshair deadpanned, then smirked. "Shall I shoot the Chancellor a warning message about the drought about to hit the galaxy?"

Talla's annoyance was betrayed by a cheeky grin of her own. "Oh, shut up and go take your shower, the others will be here soon."

"Is that right?" Crosshair deadpanned again, "I wonder if that's why I was rushing to get in one hour ago." He stalked into the refresher and would have slammed the door behind him if it wasn't automatic.

Talla paused for effect. "And you call Tech the Drama Queen!" With her enhanced hearing she swore a breathy chuckle was given at this. Next, she used her fingers to count down. 

'One christophsis.'

'Two christophsis.'

'Three christophsis -' 

"What the - Ugh! - did you shove a wookie down the drain!" There were more noises of disgust as he no doubt removed her wads of fallen hair with unparalleled reluctance, just not wanting to take a shower in five inches of water pooling around his ankles. "Ugh! You're worse than Hunter!"

It was Talla's turn to bark a laugh, "Then you should be happy to hear I'm chopping my hair short!" Muttered curses about her being disgusting no doubt only made her feel all the giddier. Words could not express the pure delight Talla felt in the fact she could get under Crosshairs skin. Turns out, she was a little petty after all, and felt Crosshair was due for some repercussions for all those weeks of torment he put her through. Only difference was, she wasn't going to destroy his will to live or cross into hypocrite waters like last time. Just make him want to tear out his hair a little.

'Or, what's left of it anyways.'

That was wisely left out. 

But it goes without saying that Crosshair loved this to, and the battle of 'Who Can Deliver the Most Scathing Comeback?' was no longer a bloody war, but a truly fun game as opposed to Tech's previous game that helped him keep his sanity. It was amazing how taking out the hate element, they could now go back and forth like this, and be completely fine. And before, Talla would rarely take the initiative to try teasing Crosshair but now it was like second nature, just another enhancement if you will. Yes, she'd come a long way from when Ahsoka first exposed her to harmless teasing, and found it was strangely fun.

When they played around, Talla could almost forget that after he was cleared to leave, it'd be time to say goodbye to this.

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🎯Haircuts - Love 'em or Hate 'em 🐺

(LATE MORNING)

The constant buzzing sound of an electric razor filled the personal recovery room of Talla and Crosshair, irritating said Special Agent sprawled out on her bed. She was smooshing a pillow over her ears to ineffectively block out the torture. There were some noises that just drove her senses crazy, no matter the volume level, and this reverberating buzz turned out to be one of them, even though the hairdresser and client were all the way in the refresher.

The only non-irritating thing about this was watching Crosshair pout like a child the Kaminoan chair placed in the middle of the tiny washroom, really not looking forward to the finished look he'd end up with as Hunter buzzed off the last of his hair before touching up with a handheld razor. The impending discontent caused a lot of unintentional fidgeting on Crosshairs part, which made the meticulous process more difficult for Hunter, causing a lot of bickering between the brothers.

Why was Hunter doing the haircut in the first place? Because Crosshair was not used to doing it himself anyways, and he definitely wasn't going to start now, which would require looking in the mirror. He avoided mirrors like the blue shadow virus now, and pointedly made sure to face his swiveling chair facing away from the one behind Hunter. He would be damned if he had to watch the buzzing off of his unique, silver toned, and destroyed patchy head of hair. Crosshair was upset from that, was achy from the sickness still plaguing him and was sitting in this uncomfortable chair, was just plain miserable.

Hunter muttered a curse when the Sniper shifted again. "Cross, I'm only going to say this one more time -" The electric razor was intentionally held close to his left ear, causing Crosshair to fight a flinch, "- sit still, or I'm gonna chop your ear off."

"Perfect, then I can be identical twins with Wrecker." Crosshair retorted.

"Hey, I still have my ear!" The big lug sprawled out on his bed across the room protested, self-consciously reaching a hand up to the deformed body part, "... It's just a little wonky, that's all."

Sitting still only lasted as long as that comment, causing Hunter to use force this time by literally grabbing Crosshair's head and snapping not-so-nicely it back into position himself. "Keep moving and yours will be too." He threatened.

Crosshair spouted a few curses. "Don't ever go into chiropracting." He snarked, neck sore already and not in the good way.

Sitting in a different chair next to Talla's bed and thought to be unaware of nothing but his datapad, the signature pointer finger was raised by Tech. "Technically, it is not possible to cut off an ear with an electric razor - the worst would be some small nicks or perhaps a bad case of irritating razor burn."

"Yeah, I know," Hunter acknowledged, then snapped Crosshair's head back into position again, earning a peeved yelp, "- so you better start behaving before I whip out the manual razor." Hunter threatened one last time. There were some more grumbles so in retaliation, there was another jerk of the Sniper's head to the side so Hunter could raise a daring brow straight down at Crosshair's pain-twisted face. "What was that?"

"Nothing, Sarge." Crosshair spat.

In complete mockery, Hunter patted his cheek in good nature. "Good answer, baby brother."

Dull amber eyes became as sharp as the razor Hunter threatened him with. "I'm going to make you eat that razor, 'not-so-big-brother.'" Crosshair threatened through gritted teeth. 

It fell on unintimidated, unimpressed deaf ears.

Crosshair didn't sustain any collateral damage, but he wanted to cause some damage to anything and everything and everyone around him when Hunter announced, "Done!" And all curious eyes in the room were trained on him - specifically, his smooth, freshly bald head. From the silence that took place, you could hear a pin drop or that rumored enchanting whistle of the Force as its power was wielded, and it took everything for Crosshair not to squirm in his seat.

It was chipper Talla who sat upright and broke the silence. "I think you look great, Cross!" She complimented truthfully.

All she got was a muttered 'shut up.' Red-faced Crosshair threw unsuspecting Hunter out of refresher and sealed himself inside.

Talla's stomach twisted in knots from the guilt because his suffering, in a way, all her fault. She was the one to reach a dazed Hunter first and offered him a hand up.

Everyone congregated in front of the locked door, offering little bits of encouragement to try helping the insecure brother.

"It's not bad, Crosshair!" Talla reassured him.

"Just different." Tech said, which could have been taken the wrong way.

"But not a 'bad' different!" Talla was quick to clarify.

There was no reply, which meant complimenting the new look wasn't working.

Wrecker switched tactics, "Maybe - maybe Hunter can be a hair donor?"

"Over my dead body." Hunter coolly riposted. Next to him, Talla secretly also wanted to find a different solution, not wanting to sacrifice those glorious waves either.

"But if that's what it takes to get him out." Tech agreed with Wrecker, calm but dead serious.

"What?" Hunter sputtered.

To stop the potential assault, Talla gave two unforgiving shoves to the two potential assaulters chest plates and they stumbled backwards right onto their asses, "C'mon, even bald you're still good-looking!" She said to Crosshair. 

*crickets and various forms of odd looks from the man next to her and the two star-fished out on the floor*

"What?" Gaping Tech and Wrecker raised and stepped back into line to their gaping older brother, "I finally figured out why all those women glare at me when I'm with you guys at bars," She raised a pointer finger, "Or the flipside - they realize that I'm just a friend of yours, and some of the more reserved ones slip me their comm channel codes to give you guys."

The silence was out of astonishment now, and the three batchers outside the refresher shared looks combined with mortification, and perhaps a hint of smugness.

"We... get comm codes?" Tech asked with the common decency to act bashful. He knew some women tried approaching him, but it was admittedly only a few, and even fewer stuck around when he started babbling incoherently out of nerves. It was a confidence booster, thinking more women found him appealing. But this was mixed with unease, because while he liked being intimidating out there on the battlefield, he didn't necessarily like others finding him intimidating unless it was a potential bully, least of all a potential mate. There were times he envied Wrecker's relationship, wondering what it felt like to find someone who looked beyond the initial anti-social tendencies and would be more than a friend.

He was on an emotional roller-coaster.

And while he'd never be unfaithful, Wrecker always thought no one gave him a second thought at all, besides his Skylar. It instilled confidence in himself. There were times he found his scar ugly and off-putting, yet he still found admirers.😌

As was Hunter, who also had been approached, but suffered awkward silences instead of babbling. It was depressing nothing had come out of those interactions, and depressing he did get comm codes he'd never have the guts or skills to reply to, but it was an extremely pleasing fact that he was found attractive enough to be given them. Hunter had never felt for another what he felt for Talla now, but hey maybe he had options? If he, you know, could get over being so anti-social.

One look back at her made those thoughts come to a screeching halt.

Talla waved Tech's previous question aside like it was no big deal. "Yeah, but I always get rid of them because you guys get so flustered already, I figured you wouldn't want the pressure of calling a woman back, especially one you didn't actually speak to face to face."

A presumption like this was so not her place to assume, nor was this action hers to decide for them... but her reasoning was spot on, and in a way they were thankful for the interference.

That didn't mean the competitive brothers would let this slide.

From beyond the closed door, "Who gets the most comm codes?" Muffled Crosshair wondered with as much nonchalantness he could procure. 

Talla: 😐

...

Others: 👀

...

Crosshair: |👀

"No comment." Talla finally said.

She went to sidestep the man in her way - Wrecker - but he caught her, lifted her by her shoulders and ungracefully plopped her back down in front of the door. "C'mon, who gets the most?" Wrecker urged with way too much eagerness. He was really hoping to beat Crosshair at something this time around.

Wrecker AND Tech took an eager step towards her, so pressed up against the refresher door now Talla held up her hands. "Look, you all are great guys once you get past the anti-social tendencies -" She huffed nervously. 

"Yes, yes, but who gets the most?" Tech pressed.

Next to him dazed Hunter's heart gave a happy flutter. 'Talla thinks I'm a great guy!' It was a generalized compliment, but a compliment nonetheless and he'd take it, not caring about the unspoken stupid competition anymore. Talla thought he was a great guy and that took away his insecurity and misery away for a blissful few minutes.

Though not burning with curiosity anymore, he fixed Talla with a curiously apprehensive look that just caused a foreign, burning sensation in her chest, giving her the unsettling urge to claw the eyes of all the ones who gave codes for Hunter specifically. After several more urges, almost pleas from the male Batchers, Talla started off by exclaiming, "Alright, alright!" They shut up and listened intently. "It depends on the planet."

"Say 79's on Coruscant, then." Tech supplied.

In a moment of playfulness to lighten the mood and payback for the forcefulness, Talla decided to have fun with this by dragging on the suspense, leaning casually against the door she was trapped in. "You want the truth?"

"Yes."

Downturning her head, her chewed off, ugly nails were loftily glanced at with a smirk. "You reeaally want the truth?"

"Yes!" They insisted.

There was a pause for affect and all of them this time leaned forward in anticipation for the big reveal.

Then she grinned, knowing what Crosshairs reaction was going to be. "Wrecker."

Pause.

"What?!" Unexpectedly, the door supporting her Whooshed! open.

Wrecker laughed "HA!" in Crosshairs slack face.

Hunter was broken out of his stupor by hearing Talla's grunt of pain from falling backwards. He pushed past Crosshair to offer his hand first.

"That... actually makes sense." Tech conceded, after some deep reflection.

Promptly letting go of Hunter's steady yet gentle hand, Talla gave Crosshair a little punch."Ow!"

"Why are you so surprised?" She teased next, "Wrecker's a lot of fun at a bar!" Wrecker's chest puffed proudly, "Dancing, singing, the life of the party really!" She swept a hand in the general direction of the other baffled three, "You guys just hunker down in a corner and avoid eye contact with anyone who passes, or glare if they pass by your table!"

"HA!" Wrecker triumphed over Crosshair again, whose mouth was pressed in a firm, greatly unsatisfied line.

"I can't believe this." Crosshair grumbled, folding his arms and looking like a huffy teenager.

Wrecker cupped his hand around his good ear mockingly, "Um, excuse me, what? Who's the one who got a girlfriend first?"

An eye twitched.

And an urge to kill was rising by leaps and bounds.

And Crosshair considered jumping off the edge of this space station when he heard that Tech came in second place because if approached he could actually give a friendly smile instead of the off-putting, resting bitch face never failing to be a major turn off, especially when it was followed by words that just had 'Kark off' undertones.

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🎯Tearful Goodbyes - NOT! 🐺

(KALIIDA - DAY 40 w/ THE BAD BATCH - MID MORNING)

Convor was not a mushy guy. The medic was serious in saying he did not like seeing the same patient twice, and he was serious in his cold manner of parting. Hands folded behind his back, face devoid of all emotion, Convor bid the Bad Batch woman looking up at him this flat goodbye: "Goodbye, Agent Talla - it hasn't been a pleasure and I hope we never meet again."

Mirroring his bored facade, "Yeah, same to you." Talla responded with just as much frigidness. 

And they went their separate ways, Talla to meet her team impatiently waiting outside the room already and Convor over to the desk in the corner to collect the light pad containing all their treatment info. Yet, both secretly wore small bittersweet smiles of camaraderie betrayed the medic and patient's true feelings about this goodbye.

And if Convor hadn't picked up on it by now, Talla was his exact opposite in every way, especially in how she expressed herself. She felt things very deeply, and expressed things very strongly, and decided she wasn't going to leave it at just this. Behind him, Convor heard the clomping of her heavy army boots against the smooth hospital floor hurriedly reapproaching him, and turned in just enough time to see her skid to a stop several feet away.

Talla was bursting at the seams with an emotion she was more than eager to express, "I know that you try to be all tough, but I just wanted to say you've been INFINITELY nicer with my treatment than all the Kaminoan I've had the displeasure of treating me."

She paused to let out a gasp, saying that all in one go and already breathless from her racing back in here. He couldn't help but candidly remark, "That is not much of a compliment, Agent."

She glowed with appreciation though. "Well, I say it is, because for reasons I can't say I was -" She paused when getting a knowing look, then shrugged a shoulder while admitting, "Alright, definitely still am afraid of medical facilities." Talla wracked her brain to not overexplain and put this into as simple words as possible in respect for her squads to make a swift retreat. "But believe it or not I've become less afraid of them, all because of you." The harshness of his features easing up at this unexpected appreciation was almost nonexistent, but intuitive Talla saw it and it encouraged her to finish up her sappy second goodbye. "You're tough on your patients, yeah, but you're not unkind and never lay a cruel hand on them, and I really appreciate everything you've done for me - in fact, I don't think I'd still be a around if it wasn't for you so... I just wanted to say thank you." Melancholy overtook her for a brief moment. "Figure you don't hear that enough around these parts, and you deserve it." She held her breath as the blank look he wore for a moment offered absolutely no insight as to how he felt about this little speech.

Then, the first kind smile she'd ever seen him give softened the harshness of his stress weathered features. She returned it with much more enthusiasm, giving an honorary salute despite him not being a ranking officer, then made to scram just like he wished.

🟣◾🔺◽🔻◾🔺◽🔻◾🟣

🎯The Honorary She-Wolf 🐺

(EARLY AFTERNOON)

Ahsoka was thrilled when she received word Talla and her teammate had been released and were en route to Coruscant, especially since the Padawan wasn't scheduled to leave with her Master until the day after the Bad Batch arrived - she'd get to see her friend again! This time not unconscious on a hospital gurney but in good spirits and well on her way to a full recovery!

Also stationed on Coruscant till the leader of his battalion was done with Jedi business was Commander Wolffe, and the Kel Dor General suggested the two of them join Ahsoka on her visit to the Havoc Marauder II, to congratulate the Bad Batch on the exceedingly helpful information Tech retrieved from the tactical droid's system, applaud their squadrons amazing ingenuity, and wish them a speedy recovery.

Hunter, Tech, Wrecker were not interested in socializing with Commander Buzzkill or anyone at that, their social batteries thoroughly drained from half a week surrounded by regs, reg medics, and long-necks, but Crosshair planted himself close by. If need be, he'd defend the new person he tolerated and had his undying loyalty now confirmed. He gave off an air of intimidation while 'casually' lounging on the top steps of the ramp with a toothpick between his clenched teeth, and razor-sharp amber eyes training a withering glare on the reg Commander specifically. He answered the one and only question directed at him with an uninterested grunt, effectively sparing him having to endure any more boring, tortuous pleasantries.

To be expected, Wolffe was less excited to see Talla again, the eccentric nature of her and her squadron just not his forte. "Agent Talla, it was an honor serving with you, but you're a kriffing maniac so to be frank, if I ever see you again it'll be too soon." Was his clipped greeting once her and Ahsoka gave each other a hug and exchanged pleasantries upon seeing each other again, then included the tag-alongs into the conversation.

To be expected, Agent Talla was a bit thrown by this this greeting that doubled as a goodbye, especially since he looked completely unapologetic about the mockery of it. In response, Plo Koon gave a disapproving dad look and Ashoka was also put off, but not exactly surprised at the brusk words.

By now, Crosshair was fully aware of Talla's sword-like tongue, and like a proud Master he fully approved of his Padawan taking a page out of his playbook. Wolffe had no idea who he was dealing with, or who had helped her fine-tune her craft. A hand was laid over her feigned wounded heart, and Talla addressed her leering mentor up top with eyes gleaming in the same mischievousness as his were now, "Cross, do - do you realize... I think that's the nicest compliment I've ever gotten from a reg!"

Even Plo had to crack a smile over that one.

If Wolffe was put off this time, it didn't show on his face but he did stutter once, "You're a - a hazard out there on the battlefield. I almost pity the future Separatists you bring down." Then he paused, to take out something from a pouch on his belt, "But despite the 'incident,' the boys had fun working with you and seeing you in action so, they wanted me to give this to you."

Unfolded and held out to her was a simple, square piece of grey cloth bearing the painted white symbol of the Wolfpack with hints of red, to signify her Bad Batch roots no doubt.