#ndtech2024

Until his comm, set between his boot and the wall to ensure it didn’t fall from his perch, came to life.

Wrecker’s voice rang through in that hushed shout that passed for a whisper. “You still doing okay?” Even with the comm so far from him, Tech could hear breathing coming through, and he could just imagine Wrecker in his bunk, curled up and leaned in far too close as he waited for his answer.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Tech said idly, raising his own voice to compensate for the distance. He could have retrieved the comm, of course, but that would mean putting down the recording device currently occupying his hands, and with its fragile inner workings exposed at that. Turning it over, Tech briefly inspected the wiring as he waited for another response, only for none to come.

Wrecker was likely lonely then, looking for company rather than having anything to relay to him. Tech’s eyes flicked to the comm, listening to the breathing for a few seconds before asking, “Where are Hunter and Crosshair?”

“Shooting range.” A hint of crackling distorted the reply and Tech frowned. He wasn’t so far from their barracks that it should have interfered with the signal. The first hint of a brewing stom perhaps. He would need to keep a closer eye on the skies then, to ensure that if the weather did turn he - and more importantly, the recorder - wasn’t caught up in the downpour.

Still, the thought was unpleasant and he let out a short sigh, glad that the comm was too far away to pick it up. Wrecker didn’t need to think him disinterested when already searching for connection.

Tech plucked the smallest of his soldering irons from beside him, beginning to carefully fuse the ends of the wires into place within the new recorder. As he worked, he raised his voice again. “Have you listened to the audio recording I acquired for you?”

Wrecker had never been much for reading, but the blast that had taken sight on his left side had taken what little attention span he had for it along with them. Luckily, though he could only hear on his right now, audio processing seemed to have dodged the same fate, as long as the recording was suitably slow paced. He may not have been able to keep up with many of Tech’s explanations, but audio novels were a different story.

His investment in stories that could generously be described as tawdry was beyond Tech’s understanding, but understanding wasn’t necessary. They made his brother happy, so he would fight his way through as many layers of Kaminoan security as necessary in order to provide a continuous supply.

Instantly, the tone changed and brightened, Wrecker’s false whisper dropping and voice rising as eagerness overwhelmed any restraint. At first it made Tech wince to hear the sudden increase, but he adjusted quickly and soon enough the words became a comforting backdrop of their own.

Eventually, the clouds would gather and force him back inside, Wrecker would run out of Twi’lek pirate adventures to poorly relay back to him, and the moment would pass. But, for now, it was peaceful.

“I see you still have your sass.” Crosshair’s voice lacked the usual hissing strength to it. He was clearly ashamed from asking them to help him off Kamino.

“As do you, I’m sure.” Tech lowered the scanner. “It’s not just about trust,” Tech said. “You know I have to verify this.”

Crosshair let out another huff, leaning back in his seat, and stretching out his long legs.

Tech pulled his legs in.

“Hunter wants you to verify it, to see if I’m lying.”

Ugh. “Crosshair, what reason have you given us to trust you? You lured us to Kamino at the Empire’s orders, you shot your own squad”— Crosshair turned away; perhaps at the fact that the Bad Batch was no longer his squad?—”you told us you believe in the Empire, and are loyal to them, and then you ask us to get you off Kamino despite your own pride, but since then you have not made your allegiance clear.”

Tech finished with the scanner, and set his tools aside.

“There, all done.”

“Tech, I know you. I know you like to look at every side, like to understand as much as you can about—about everything, really. Now look at the other evidence.”

“Why? Will you be staying with us, or is your loyalty to those who destroyed our home more important to you?”

Tech stood, and tried scanning Crosshair, but he stood too, shoving him. Tech shoved back.. Perhaps their altercation was too loud because Hunter noticed, exiting the cockpit in a rush, and getting in between them. Crosshair snarled when he pulled them apart.

“Stop it. Both of you. Crosshair, sit down.”

“Make me.”

“How old are you?” Hunter asked.

“Fine,” Crosshair growled, taking a seat. “But I’m only listening to you so I actually make it to my destination.”

“We’re not the ones who want you dead,” Hunter said. “Think about that.” He turned to Tech. “You’re all right here? You can handle him?”

Guilt struck Tech for a moment as his hand just brushed against one of his blasters holstered at his hips.

“Of course.”

“Good, now check if he still has his chip.”

“I don’t,” Crosshair swore.

“Then what’s the harm in the scan?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Crosshair told him.

Tech cleared his throat, going over in his head what he wanted to say. He should say it now. No, no… Now! Hmm, maybe it needed some tweaking.

Hunter, may I speak with you? I believe you are riling Crosshair up. I can handle him.

Yes, that was perfect.

By the time he had his script, Crosshair was in Hunter’s face.

Oh no, was he too late?

He still had to try.

Tech cleared his throat again, getting at least Hunter’s attention (Crosshair was still sneering at Hunter). “Hunter,” he started, worried his voice was coming out too loud (not like he could change that at the moment; there was just too much to think about), “may I speak with you?”

Hunter drew his attention from Crosshair, which seemed to take a mighty effort. Tech didn’t blame him.

“Fine, but I’m gonna keep an eye on him.”

“That is preferable,” Tech said, breaking his script, and finding the rest of the words falling away from him as the connection broke.

Scrag.

“So what is it?” Hunter asked.

How am I supposed to say it now?

Just try.

You have to try.

Tech tried to ignore the sudden anxiety in his gut at finding the right words, and said, “I believe you are riling Crosshair up. Clearly he is distressed by your presence.”

“And he isn’t by yours?”

“He is, but to a lesser extent. I believe this will go more smoothly if I handle it on my own.”

Hunter eyed Tech, and then Crosshair. He looked back at Tech, and Tech dodged his gaze, looking at his eyebrows instead, and the dark ink of his tattoo.

“Fine, but holler if you need help.”

Hunter went back to the cockpit, and the door opening earned Tech a glance at Omega peeking through, curious as always. Besides, she seemed willing to forget Crosshair’s transgressions.

AZI was in the cockpit as well, making it more crowded. He had volunteered to check if Crosshair still had his chip, but Tech wanted to see it for himself, with his own tool.

“Glad Hunter decided I don’t need another babysitter,” Crosshair hissed out as Tech came back over.

“Perhaps I was the one who didn’t want him around.”

“You? Aren’t you all one big, happy family?”

“No,” Tech stated. “I fear we are missing a piece.”

They went silent.

“Please, let me scan you.”

“Fine,” Crosshair relented. “As long as your stupid machine doesn’t touch my head.”

“It won’t.”

Still, Tech held in a wince as he scanned Crosshair, getting a closer look at his scar.

“Did that require skin grafts?” he asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. You don’t trust me, remember? So I don’t trust you.”

“I miss the time when we could trust each other,” Tech admitted, voice perhaps more monotone than he had intended.

“Just finish your stupid scan.”

Tech did, and… no inhibitor chip. He felt a strange lightness in his chest that Crosshair had been telling the truth.

But then that meant he had been telling the truth about his loyalty to the Empire as well, which then felt like a stab in the gut.

“It appears you were not lying,” Tech managed to get out.

“As if I didn’t already know that.”

“You want to be left alone,” Tech stated, still knowing Crosshair despite him being an enemy now.

To his surprise, Crosshair paused.

Tech almost sat back down, even twisting his hips to do so.

“Yes.”

Crosshair was lying. Tech knew it like he knew how to fly the Marauder, knew it like he knew that a venomous twirfang didn’t actually need its venom to kill its prey, knew it like he knew the sound of a purrgil about to jump to hyperspace.

Tech left him to his lie, wondering if he would ever look back at his recording of that moment.

Despite how crowded it was in the cockpit, Tech felt devastatingly lonely. He wondered if Crosshair felt this way. But there was no way to fix it, not unless Crosshair took the first steps.

Tech sat in the pilot’s seat, silent, brain trying to script what he could say to Crosshair to fix this, but there was no script for this pain, no script for what Crosshair had done to them and had tried to do, no script for what they had done to Crosshair, no script for the sheer encompassing malice and enormity of the Empire.

Tech, unable to sit still with his frustrating helplessness, continued work on one of his many projects, telling the others about it till they were annoyed, and past that. Though, Wrecker smiled at him through it, and Echo did seem interested for quite some time. Same with Hunter and Omega. But he knew he was too much sometimes. They listened anyway. Annoyance didn’t change anything about love. Tech was glad that after twenty minutes they at least pretended to listen; perhaps they had been doing it all along, not understanding what he was working on. He valued the questions Omega asked, and valued that they let him speak as long as he wished.

Yet Crosshair sat just outside the door, alone.

Would he have listened to Tech for some time as well? Had he tried to listen in?

Tech resisted the urge to check on him. Echo was handling that—Echo, who understood being used by an enemy to hurt his own brothers. Perhaps something would come of this.

His mind played over and over again, Do you not trust me?

Crosshair hadn’t tried to take their weapons, hadn’t hurt any of them once Kamino had been fired upon, and he had saved Omega. The evidence before Tech painted a confusing picture, one he would want to puzzle out, teasing out the knotted strands until everything was right again.

Do you not trust me?