#tech oneshot

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

Tech was more than capable of feeding himself, yet from time to time dinner was brought over with claims of having extra. He knew there was no way you, who lived alone, would have this much leftover food for one meal yet the possibility of you intentionally making this just to bring it to him was unrealistic—and even further, impossible. 

It had been Hunter who had let him in on the not so hidden fact that dinner nights with you weren’t really meant for them all. Yes, you were all of their friend—but those visits, that thought and care was for Tech. He had argued, of course, and it had been Omega this time who informed him that that was just what you do. 

“What they care for someone, they do things for them,” she explained as if it was the most obvious thing as she tinkered with some gadget. “Y/N makes dinner for all of us, but they always make your favorites, Tech. You know,” she turned, grinning at her brothers, “they always carry a cloth in case you need to clean your goggles.” With that, the girl stood from her seat, gathering her things and exiting the room, leaving behind an air of wisdom of someone much older than her. She did that often, and that was why Tech slightly believed her. 

Upon further research, Tech discovered what was known as a love language. The dots, how ever he missed them before, finally connected in his mind in the late of night. 

Rules he upheld with his brothers and Omega, he was more lax with you. Your presence when he was not in the mood to socialize was more tolerable than the rest, and he recalled all the times he had observed and factually stated that you were beautiful to himself. Beauty, though subjective in nature, was a natural occurrence in life. And Tech was not afraid of the truth, and the truth was that you had been beautiful all along, and he had thought of you slightly more special than most others he knew. 

That was what had led them to this moment. Tech had stayed up all night, working into the wee hours of morning on as many projects as he could manage. And then, waiting until he knew you would go about your usual tasks of the day, he trekked to your home and installed every creation he had produced. 

“You complained that the cover over your walkway floods your garden when it rains, so I created a funneling system to redirect the waterflow elsewhere,” he answered, pushing his goggles up his nose. “And you mentioned a draft because your front door would not close all the way, so I fixed it. And the side window that was previously cracked has been replaced with an upgraded version.” 

Your heart squeezed in your chest as you watched him rock ever so slightly on his feet, glancing at you here and there but not keeping his eyes on one thing too long, and it struck you that he must have been nervous. While Tech was known to fidget, nerves were not something he displayed signs of hardly ever, and heat gathered in your cheeks. 

The sun was warm, Tech was as handsome as ever, and your smile could not have been any larger. “An upgraded version, huh?” Your eyebrows raised playfully, voice light as you took one step closer. 

“Yes, upgraded,” he affirmed seriously before continuing, beginning to walk away. “As per your complaints, the window offered no privacy nor did it—” he cut himself off, stopping in his tracks when he noticed you hadn’t walked off with him. Instead of grumbling or giving a sarcastic quip, as he was ever inclined to do, he backtracked until your hand was grasped in his. He tugged your arm lightly, beckoning you to follow him as he resumed his explanation. “As I was saying, nor did it filter any of Pabu’s natural light in your home, so…” he trailed off until the two of you were planted right in front of the said window on the side of your house. 

It was your bedroom window to be exact, and true to his word, it was no longer cracked.

But instead of regular transparasteel, the surface had been frosted over. You could no longer see right into the room, but instead see little designs in the glass, swirls and such riddled all over the place. “I made this last night,” he offered, looking between you and the window, voice much softer than before. “The light, it will not be as harsh on you, and you now have privacy while still having the effect of an open window, which…” he exhaled ever so slightly, the weight of your hand in his heavy on his mind as he looked over at you once again, “which I know you love.” 

He was right. You had mentioned that the solution to your problem was as simple as some curtains, but then that would eliminate the natural light as a whole and that was the opposite of what you wanted. You had not had the skills or the mindset to create the solutions to these problems, though not detrimental in severity, but for some reason Tech had taken it upon himself to be the one to remedy them. 

“Tech…” you whispered, looking at him with a tender love he was not used to receiving. It made his heart rate accelerate in his chest, as he thought back to all of the acts of service you had done for not only him but his family as well.

You had loved him to the point of service, and Tech had realized that he loved you to the point of invention. 

“No need to mention it,” he whispered back, unable to fight off the blush in his cheeks as you smiled at him. “That is just what people do when they care. You taught me that.” 

Everything happened so fast.

It was like any other mission gone bad — shots from grounded enemies, shots from the sky, and having to problem-solve on the fly amidst the chaos. Then… it was very different.

There was a violent shake as the rail cars were hit and then I was looking down at my husband hanging far below the car. Momentarily, all sound became an indistinguishable noise, garbled voices of distress mixed with ringing and roaring in my ears, as you struggled to climb up to the car.

As I moved to help you, the car creaked and, snapping back to reality, I heard you shout up, “Whoa! Don't! Any shift in weight could send both of these cars over. You must sever the connection hinge. Now!” Wrecker and I immediately exclaimed our rejection of that idea. I could feel my panic rising, my desperation increasing. There must be something. There HAS to be something. Anything to fix this mess and save you.

Your next words, spoken so calmly and matter-of-fact, slammed into me. “There is no time, cyare. Plan 99.” “Don’t. You. Dare, Tech.” My voice cracked on your name. Gently, desperately, I repeated my words, punctuating them with “please”. Your eyes locked with mine — soft, sad, and full of love. “I love you, cyar’ika, but when have we ever followed orders?”

When you shot the connection and began to fall, a deafening scream ripped out of me. “NO!” My body automatically lunged for the side with my hand outstretched before Wrecker grabbed me and held me firmly. Thrashing to escape his grasp as the car began to move, I screamed, “TECH! No! No no no! Go back!”

As the car got further and further away, the shock of the situation overtook me — numb, unseeing, unmoving with that same mix of indistinguishable sounds in my ears. My body went into a survival autopilot – moving as prompted but I wasn’t there – and the team had to help drag me back to the Marauder through the attacks.

Once aboard the Marauder, standing in the middle of our quarters, my knees gave out as I crumbled. Ripping off my helmet and goggles, my agonized sobs finally broke free and echoed through the ship. So full of grief, my body shaking, I leaned forward on my hands for support, fingers digging into the metal floor. One hand reached up, taking my chained wedding ring from underneath my undershirt and I clutched it so hard a mark was left in my hand.

At some point, I had stopped crying and left my body. I didn’t even know the ship stopped. Feeling a gentle hand on my shoulder, the only acknowledgment of awareness I could give was a hoarse, emotionless mumble, “You should have let me go with him.” 

From there, I don’t truly remember much of anything. There’s a blur of being dragged to my feet and out of the ship, and of having wet hair and clean clothes while AZ checked me over with no memory of cleaning up or changing. I’m ashamed to say that I don’t even truly remember Omega being taken. All I truly remember from the past month and a half is waves of soul-crushing pain surrounded by numbness as I attempted to lose myself in my work. I keep crying and feeling flashes of disbelief and anger. I’ve lost my appetite… and my desire for self-preservation. All this while moving on autopilot to complete my tasks and finish the mission. Find and save Omega. That is all that matters right now.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo are concerned for me, often pushing food on me and otherwise fussing. Up until now, there were eyes on me almost all the time, it felt like, and I hated it, but I understood why they hovered. Echo left a couple of weeks after the events to rejoin Rex, but I still hear him comm Hunter every so often to check in on me and find out how the search for Omega is going.

The days are often easier than the nights since I’ve taken on most of Tech’s tasks alongside my own. Hunter and Wrecker have tried to take some of them, wishing to lighten my load, but I adamantly refuse. I need them. I need the memory of helping with and hearing about them from him by doing them. They’ve let the situation be, but still intervene to make me sleep.

That’s when it gets unbearable.

The emptiness beside me screams, his scent got fainter with each passing day until it disappeared, remembering the quiet moments we shared in this space, and hearing his final words on a loop in the silence. Once the exhaustion finally takes me… I often watch Tech fall and wake with tears streaming down my face or stinging eyes and a heavy heart. Some nights, I think Hunter has been slipping me medicine in my food ‘cause those are the only nights I get any decent sleep.

Still, most knew and appreciated how much their little town had benefited from Tech. His knowledge and inventions had helped many of them, just as much as the crops his brothers grew and the protection his cousins offered. And they appreciated it nonetheless.

But what they appreciated just as much, was the fact that you were one of the only persons willing to brave the infamous workshop.

Your satchel was hefty today, clinking with Tech's newest order, and you adjusted it on your shoulder as you lifted your fist to knock on the iron-braced door.

There was a metallic clatter on the other side, a muffled curse, and the shuffle of feet. In a groan of hinges the door opened, and there was Tech. Soot smeared across his cheek and forehead, sleeves rolled up well past his elbows, and glasses askew.

It was a true testament to how fond he was of you, that a small smile lifted his lips when his eyes met yours.

"Perfect timing," he greeted, eyes darting down to the bag resting on your hip.

Leaving the door wide open, Tech quickly turned and headed back into the depths of his workshop, knowing you would follow.

"Evening to you too," you smirked, stepping in after him.

As you shut the door behind you, you lifted your satchel off your shoulder, relishing the lifted weight. Tech's main set of workbenches (yes, set, not one simple table) sat along the adjoining wall, with blueprints, scribbled notes, broken parts, and tools scattered atop every surface. There was a clear space directly in front of where Tech stood, and that's where you set his order.

He untied the strap with care and tilted the bag so its contents rolled out with ease. The hum of approval that followed made your skin tingle just a little.

"Yes, yes," Tech muttered, lifting the first piece of metalwork to the light shining through the window, "these are just as I hoped. Exquisite work, as always." He looked over at you then, adjusting his glasses, "Then again, I expect nothing less from talent such as yours."

Your face was burning at the compliment, mouth dry even as you gave him a smile of your own. "Well, your sketches are always easy to work with," you said, reaching for the papers tucked into your vest pocket.

Tech repeatedly expressed how thankful he was that the town blacksmith was versatile in their work, as he always seemed to need custom parts for whatever machine he was working on at the moment. You were always happy to oblige, welcoming the challenge and change of pace. One could only make so many nails and horseshoes before they got bored.

While you tossed his latest specs back onto the pile of design sketches, Tech completed his examination of your work. Then, he slid off his round spectacles and grabbed his goggles, another piece of your handywork.

"As I said, your timing could not have been better, my dear," he tightened the strap, "as I'm a hair away from completing my latest project.

"Do you need any help?"

He paused as he reached for his tool set, "Oh, I- yes!" he cleared his throat, "If you don't have anything else pressing to attend to, an extra set of hands would be appreciated."

You waved your hand at the rest of the open building, "Lead the way."

Tech had, many projects. Some with thick layers of dust, some in several pieces, others he came back to often. To the untrained eye, it all looked like piles of junk, but you had been in here enough over the years that you recognized that it was just a result of Tech hyperactive mind. He had trouble staying on one project for long, though sometimes, like this current machine, he managed it.

After leading you to the very back of the barn-like building, Tech set down his toolbox beside the strange contraption. For lack of a better comparison, you likened its shape to a metal bull of sorts, with thin wheels for legs and a large opening where its head might have been. Though, if Tech heard you collating it to an animal, he'd probably raise a confused brow. He cared little for aesthetics, after all.

"If you could hold this," Tech cut through your musings, holding up a paneled section of the machine's side.

You took it from him, holding it up on its hinges so he could all but climb inside.

"Ah, now I get it," you smiled seeing what part he was working on, "you're trying to increase the pressure."

"Precisely, there was too much steam loss, which resulted in slower forward motion, which itself resulted in the wheels getting caught on every minor obstruction in its path."

You let him ramble on as he tinkered with this, adjusted that, working your new parts in one at a time. He did use your hands, asking you to press down on one thing, hold another in place, it all made the process faster.

When he was done there, Tech threw open the barn doors in front of the machine, giving it somewhere to go when he as he ran his final test. Then, he asked you to help him load the fuel source to start that test run. The thing seemed to roar to life the moment it had its food, and the gears Tech had commissioned from your last week began to turn- before stalling almost instantly.

"Oh no no no no!" Tech ran his fingers through the tight curls of his hair as he looked about, "That should have worked! Why isn't it working!?"

"Tech," you grabbed his arm and pointed to the ceiling, "you still have it chained up!"

His eyes went wide as he looked at his suspension rig, which he often used to lift machines for easier alterations. Without a word, he leapt onto the would-be bull, climbing onto its back and began working at the chains, worried something would break from the strain.

The moment the machine was free it lurked forward, gears cranking and turning- and throwing Tech off its back as it took off. Your heart leapt into your throat as he came soaring down, and your arms flew open without another thought.

With a great thud, Tech's body collided with your own, sending you both tumbling down to the dirt floor. You could smell the coal and tang of metal that clung to Tech like a cologne, being that he was laying right on top of you. He drew in a shaky breath, nose brushing against your cheek as he propped himself up on his elbow, which also just so happened to be on either side of your head.

He fixed his goggles, which had gone askew, and blinked down at you, "My apologies," he breathed, "I did not mean to-"

"Tech," you cut him off, cupping your hands on his face so you could turn it in the direction of the doors, "it works, your machine works!"

Indeed, the large contraption was grinding and lurching down the open field surrounding his workshop with great power. He let out a laugh, turning his head back to you.

"It does indeed! This is wonderful, Wrecker's next harvest will go much more smoothly now."

You were sure the way you smiled up at him was soft, too soft to be just a friendly smile, but you didn't stop yourself from saying, in an equally gentle tone, "Your brilliant mind never ceases to amaze me."

You saw him draw in a sharp breath, and thought something in his eyes...shifted. "And you, my darling, never cease to amaze me with your handiwork." Was he..was he leaning in closer to you? "Not many people can understand me, and you always do so without fail."

His eyes were half-lidded now, as he placed one of his hands over yours, which was still holding his face. You couldn't help but hold your breath as he just looked down at you, thumb caressing the back of your hand.

"Your palms, they're...rough," he whispered rather absent-mindedly.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "So are yours," you grumbled back, and watched his eyes widen.

"Oh! No, I like them- your hands, I mean. I like that they're rough."

This time your eyes held interest, and you leaned up ever so slightly, "You do, do you?"

He gulped and this time, you knew he was moving closer to you, "Yes, very much so. I dare say, I love everything about you, my sweet."

And then his lips were on yours.

They were chapped but moved with an unexpected grace. The hand that had been placed over yours moved to cup your cheek. You responded in kind, taking your own hands and sliding them back to curl into his hair. He let out a moan, a moan that caught in his throat when you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

It was then that you were fully reminded of the fact that he was laying atop you. His leg moved seemingly of its own accord, pressing between your thighs in a way that had your chest stirring with something new.

Unfortunately, a sound echoed from across the field, and you pulled yourself out of your heated haze long enough to pull back just a little. Tech was not discouraged, his mind fixated on the task before him, and he simply moved his mouth to your jawline.

"T-Tech," you all but moaned, and the deep hum he gave in response had your mind spinning. He must like it when you say his name. "We- need to go catch your machine."

His breath was hot against your ear as he nuzzled your skin, "Do we have to, my dear? I am far more intrigued by my current project."

You didn't have time to unpack whether or not you liked being called his project, because you were untangling your finger from his curls to gently push on his chest.

"We can always continue this later, mr beautiful mind, but for now, I'm pretty sure that thing is heading for Cid's saloon."