The Bad Batch: Oneshots

Figure It Out

For the purpose of the story: Tech was CX-2 and survived the stab wound, and the Marauder never blew up 🤭
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     The Havoc Marauder sat on the pier of Pabu's lower deck. Tech lazily reclined back in the pilot's seat as he looked out at Pabu's churning waters. The sun hung high in the sky, the heat radiating through the large window in the cockpit was just enough to be pleasant from inside. The warm sticky weather was combated by a gentle breeze that blew through the air, so the Marauder was empty regarding its usual occupants. Tech sighed, glancing at his work table filled with various projects. His recovery from the training room on Tantiss had been slow— as if surviving a lethal stab wound wasn't good enough for him— the technician expected to be back to normal after a month. For the antsy clone, being bedridden was more of a punishment than a method of healing. Thankfully, as time passed by he found himself feeling like his old self. Hunter stopped checking in on him every second of the day. Tech appreciated the kind gesture at first, but now had come to understand Omega's irritations of Hunter's overbearing protectiveness. Crosshair's company had become a safe haven for him. He could be with his brother without the constant nagging of his condition. Overall, life on Pabu had been great after their last encounter with the Empire.

Alas, the silence was interrupted by a set of small footsteps stomping up the ramp, causing the goggled clone to sit up with a slight sense of urgency.

"Tech!" Omega came stumbling into the cockpit with a wide smile plastered on her face— her short, blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail bounced wildly behind her.

Already assessing she was not in any apparent danger he asked, "What is the matter?"

"Echo's back!" The small clone tugged at his hand in an effort to move him from his seat. "He said he has a mission for us!"

"A mission?"

Omega nodded. "Wrecker and Crosshair are on board with it—"

"And Hunter?" The technician raised a brow behind his fixed goggles.

Omega's shoulders visibly hunched as the excitement she entered with suddenly dimmed. "Hunter doesn't think it's a good idea."

"I see. Well, shall we keep Echo waiting?" Tech rose to his feet, walking toward the outstretched ramp.

Omega's smile grew once more.

"Nope!"

~~~

     Crosshair leaned on a box of loaded weapons and explosives that Wrecker brought to upper Pabu. While their mission was over, Echo's was not. There were still so many clones trapped by the Empire. Like puppets being held by their masters. Though, the strings that once secured them firmly were loosening as the effects of the inhibitor chips wore down as days slipped by. Crosshair felt for all the clones who were in his position. He'd been lucky enough to have his squad and Omega that still cared enough to break him free. Now it was his turn to repay the gift of freedom that had been given to him so forgivingly.

"Ya need anything else?" Wrecker called into the ship Echo arrived in.

"I think that should do it," Echo responded, setting down the last crate before stepping out into the light. "Don't strain yourself, big guy."

Wrecker let out a boisterous laugh. "Ahh, don't worry about me. That was nothing!"

"Those lines on your armor say otherwise," Crosshair said with a sharp tone, pointing at the large gashes still present on the giant's chest plate.

"Better than you," Wrecker teased, hands on his hips as he tossed his brother an unimpressed look.

Crosshair, caught off guard, grimaced at his missing hand. It took a lot of getting used to after the final battle. Echo offered him his "borrowed" droid hand. The sniper declined, finding the empty space better than any artificial limb. Besides, switching over to his left hand wasn't as difficult as he thought. He grew well efficient in performing not just daily tasks, but even started incorporating some of his old techniques back into his training.