Bunny 🐇

The Bad Batch

Hunter

"CT-9901"

"What?!" Hunter's voice is biting. He hates whenever his number is used. It reminds him that he's supposed to be defective, even if he doesn't feel like it. It has been used against his squad way too many times. But then he notices little signs of your body, how tense you are, your heartbeat that is way too fast, your breathing…

Hunter takes a breath, running a hand through his hair and putting the knife he'd been sharpening down. "Don't," he mutters, more to himself as a warning. He knows he's about to say something stupid, he already did by the looks of it. He doesn't need to make it worse.

Tech

"CT-9902"

"That would be my designation. Is there a reason you are using it instead of my name?" Tech readjusts his googles for the tenth time in the last few minutes. The two of you had engaged in a heated argument about certain comments he was making that he did not see a problem with and he refusea to listen to another perspective.

You think maybe using the number would make him at least pause, let you get a word in, and seemingly it does.

Tech knows something was wrong when you used his number because it sounds so similar to the regs and Kaminoans using it whenever he annoyed them but you are different. You know that and you have never used it this way before so that could only mean one thing; you were pissed. Royally.

Tech put his datapad down, turning his full attention towards you. He cannot undo the words he's said but he can at least listen from now. "Explain my error. I will listen now."

Wrecker

"CT-9903"

Wrecker stops. He hadn't heard his number in a long time. With the batch having numbers this similar, they are rarely used and his name is just something that fit him quite well so for you to use it…

"Oh… I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" His voice turns quieter, softer. He drops the crate he is holding. It was fine, nothing fragile anyway. You are more important. Wrecker tries to wrack his brain about what he did wrong. "I'm sorry. I… really am. Uhm, I don't know what I did wrong but— I'm sorry."

Crosshair

"CT-9904"

He snaps to attention immediately, his mouth audibly clicking shut. He hasn't heard his number ever since he defected from the Empire and you know it was something he avoided thinking about as much as possible.

So for you to use it against him, he knows he fucked up but he doesn't know how to react. On one hand, he wants to apologise and make it right but on the other hand, that number triggered him in a way that leaves him unbalanced.

"That's low," Crosshair's voice is razor-thin but there's no anger in his eyes, just something raw and wounded. "If you want me to listen, fine. But don't use their language against me."

Echo

 "CT-1409"

Once those numbers left your mouth, Echo froze. The only time it is ever used these days is in medical settings and those always left him hollow afterwards. He stares at the floor for a few seconds, processing.

When he looks up, his expression is tired. Not angry. Just… exhausted. “Wow,” he says softly. “Okay. I deserved that.” He runs a hand over his head. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it was. Just… please don’t do that again. I hear those numbers in my nightmares enough as it is.”

Commanders

Wolffe

"CC-3636"

Wolffe goes rigid. He's used to being called "Commander" or "Sir" by his men. But for you he has always been just "Wolffe". He scans your expression with narrowed eyes.

"Want to run that by me again?" he growls, but there's  flicker of unease beneath the gruff exterior. He crosses his arms, a defensive posture. He knows he’s been difficult lately. He just didn’t think you’d notice — or care — enough to pull this card.

Fox

"CC-1010"

Fox flinches. Actually flinches.

His number was a curse. It’s the number on the report every time a Corrie Guard falls. It’s the number Palpatine’s office used to summon him at 3 AM. Hearing it from your lips feels like a betrayal.

He doesn’t get angry. He just looks… defeated. He pulls his helmet back on, the visor hiding his eyes. “Message received,” he says, his voice flat and filtered through the comms. “Loud and clear.”

Cody

"CC-2224"

Cody stops writing his report. He sets the stylus down with a deliberate click. He turns in his chair, looking at you with that calm, measured gaze that all great commanders seem to have. He’s not scared. You two have had fights and arguments before and have resolved them all just fine.

That you used his number was new, and it made him pause but also want to listen to you more.

"Alright. That serious, is it?" He asks quietly. He doesn't apologize yet, he doesn't know what for yet, but he's giving you his full undivided attention. "Well, talk to me, dear. I'm listening."

501st

Rex

"CT-7567"

Rex blinks once. Twice. He carefully sets his helmet on the table a gesture of surrender. He knows that if you’re bringing out the number, this isn’t a battle he’s going to win with authority.

“Alright, mesh’la,” he says, holding up his hands. “You got me. What’d I do?” He’s trying to keep his tone light, but his ears are slightly red. He hates being reminded that he’s a number to the GAR. To you, he wants to be just Rex.

Fives

"CT-5555"

"Yes, that's my full name, you know you can just say Fives to save time," Fives replies, ever the cocky one. But you don't laugh, don't even smile like usually. You just glare.

His smile falters. Then it dies completely. He pushes off the wall, suddenly serious. “Oh.” He swallows hard. “It’s like that, is it?” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking very young. “I’ll, uh… I’ll just go wait in the barracks until you’re ready to talk. Or yell. Whichever you feel like.”

Jesse

"CT-5597"

Jesse freezes mid-laugh. He was just joking around with Kix, but the sound of his number, sharp and cold, cuts through the noise like a vibroblade.

He turns slowly, his shoulders tensing. "Is there a problem?" he asks, his voice slipping into a more neutral and respectful tone. He’s slipped into ‘soldier mode’ to protect himself from the emotional whiplash.

Kix

"CT-6116"

Kix sighs. A deep, world-weary sigh that only the medic of the 501st can truly master.

He sets down his medical kit and crosses over to you. He doesn’t look scared or angry, he's wrestled so many delirious soldiers that the difference between his name and number didn't mean much to him on days like these.

He gently takes your chin, tilting your head to check your pupils. “Your blood pressure is up. Talk to me.”

Hardcase

He doesn't get it at first when you say his number, turning towards you with a smile. "Yep, that's my number. Did you memorize it? That's so sweet!"

It takes him a full five seconds to see the look on your face. Then his energetic bouncing stops and his eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh no. I’m in trouble, aren’t I? Is it the explosives? I bet it was the explosive. I swear it wasn't my fault I can fix it tho—"

Dogma

"CT-6922"

Dogma stands up even straighter, which feels almost impossible since he always stands at attention. He responds to his number like a droid to a command. "Yes?"

But then he sees the fury in your eyes, the disappointment and his gaze falls to his boots, realising that it's you he disappointed and that's somehow worse than facing the disappointemnt of authority. "I see…" he says quietly. "What did I do wrong?"

Tup

 "CT-5385"

Tup’s bottom lip trembles slightly. He’s so sensitive, so eager to please. Hearing his number from you feels like a physical blow. He sets down the little droid he was tinkering with and walks over to you, his brown eyes wide and glossy.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, not even knowing what for. “I don’t like that. It sounds wrong when you say it.” You already feel bad having ever used the number.

Misc.

Howzer

He pauses with his cup of caf halfway to his lips as you say his number. He doesn't get defensive or flinch. He just sets the cup down and looks at you with those steady, honest eyes. The scar on his cheek pulls slightly as he offers a small smile.

He has a thing with pointing at people 😹

His face 🤪

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