#tech tbb x reader

“Alright, c’mon, big guy…” you murmur, guiding wrecker towards the med bay. He and Hunter had just returned from another one of cid’s errands, which, naturally, had involved blaster burns and damaged armor.

“Just a scratch,” he chuckles, while you lean closer to remove his chest plate and inspect the charred mark across his torso. You shake your head affectionately and turn to gather some supplies.

“Up,” you gesture, gently raising his muscular arms to roll his blacks out of the way. He smiles and watches as you begin to clean the wounded area.

Across the ship, Tech glances up from his datapad. His eyebrows furrow slightly behind his goggles as he watches the two of you interact so comfortably. His older brother always seemed to bring out a softer side of you. It was almost…irritating, how much you laughed around him.

His eyes narrowed further as you prepared a bacta patch and applied it to the burnt skin across Wrecker’s chest. The sight of your hands on him—so gentle—sent a sharp sting of jealousy through Tech. He clenched his datapad tighter and stayed quiet.

You whisper an apology every now and then when your fingers accidentally prod at his injury. Wrecker grunts softly, but never complains, instead attempting to distract himself with humor.

“You know, if ya keep babying me like this, I might just get used to it,” he grumbles.

You laugh. Again. Tech exhales sharply.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, hm?” You affirm, smoothing over the patch. Wrecker wiggles his eyebrows and nods.

“Okay…there you go…” you mutter softly as you begin to bandage Wrecker’s wound, your arms circling him to fasten the fabric across his torso. You press even closer to reach around his large frame, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks, doc,” he grins appreciatively, “I owe ya.”

He opens his arms for a hug, and as you’re about to lean in, Tech clears his throat. You look over your shoulder.

“Oh, hi,” you chuckle, noticing that he’d left his seat and was now only a few feet away. “What’s wrong?”

He was suddenly very aware of how stiff he sounded. He blinked a few times and watched wrecker shuffle back to his own bunk.

“…May you…check on my wounds as well?” He asks in his usual matter-of-fact cadence. There’s an uncharacteristic hesitance to his question, though, and you tilt your head. Tech hadn’t been out with the other two boys…and you’d made sure he was healthy after their last mission. You were fairly certain he had no ‘wounds,’ but you accept anyway.

“Oh…of course, hun. Come sit,” you smile.

You nod to the small bunk and he follows your instructions diligently. Although you don’t see it, his eyes widen for a split second when you call him ‘hun,’ a term of endearment the batch had only heard from you before.

He’d always been infatuated by your little affectionate habits; they were so unlike the cold, clinical care he’d received on Kamino as a child. When you’d first joined clone force 99, he’d immediately researched the psychological effects of your treatment style—breathing exercises and positive reinforcement and such. He’d questioned your methods, as he did with everyone, but…he couldn’t deny your results. You’d become a beacon of support for the entire batch, and for Tech, you were slowly becoming more than that.

He’d been visiting your med bay more often than what could be considered logical or reasonable. He would replay recordings on his datapad to ‘analyze mission files,’ but only the ones that included clips of your smiling face. He’d taken note of how you cared for Omega and his brothers as if they were your own family.

However, right now…he found himself looking for ways to direct your attention away from his brothers and towards him.

“Rope burn again?” You ask lightly.

He glances away as he remembers the time you’d witnessed him skid down a ledge without properly securing his grapple and insisted you check for injuries. He couldn’t refuse when you’d clutched his hands and pressed a cold compress to his palms. He clears his throat.

“…No. I have a bruise.”

You blink.

“A bruise?”

You’d seen Tech return from missions half dead. Why was he concerned about a bruise?

He nods, promptly removing his gloves and wrist gear. Sure enough, there was a yellowing mark on the inside of his forearm.

“Hm…” you gently cup his elbow with one hand and swipe your thumb over the contusion with the other. Not swollen, not hot to the touch. Seemed…normal.

At this point, the gears in your head were turning. Tech was easily the smartest member of the batch and his medical knowledge was not limited. He knew this bruise was relatively harmless.

He also knew you would inspect it anyway. He held out his arm to you so expectantly, almost eagerly, his brown eyes gazing up at you with a soft expression you’d seen before in children with scraped knees. It was impossible not to recognize, and you gave him a small, knowing smile.

He watches as you turn to retrieve a small tin of bacta-infused ointment. You wordlessly gather some of it on your fingertips and begin to lightly spread it over the discolored skin.

“Tech,” you begin, your voice quieter than before.

“…hm?” He glances up and adjusts his goggles.

“…if you want my attention, all you have to do is ask,” you murmur, one hand sliding down to hold his wrist.

He looks up from your hands and stares at you like you’d just thrown his datapad out of the airlock. Then, he swallows and glances sideways.

“…Wrecker does not ask for your attention.”

Your expression softens with realization and you give him another smile, your fingers leaving the faint bruise to cup his jaw.

“Wrecker doesn’t have an itemized list of ‘non-tactile comfort strategies,’” you comment, almost teasing. The tips of his ears redden slightly as your thumb strokes his chin, and for once, he’s silenced.

“I didn’t think you would like…any of that,” you continue to gently explain, “I’m sorry, sweetie…”

The pet name brings his gaze back up to yours, soft and swimming behind his goggles.

“I suppose I could have been more direct,” he murmurs. You huff a laugh, and his eyebrows curl up with something like admiration.

“Mhm. But…I know now,” you whisper, leaning closer. Your hand slides up to cradle his cheek and he turns into your palm, his own hands moving to rest against your hips like he couldn’t keep them still if he tried. It sends a flutter through your stomach and you give him an approving smile that morphs into a more playful expression as you let out a low murmur.

“I never took you for the jealous type…”

The corner of his lip twitches and his hands flex at your sides.

“Niether did I. But you…” he trails off, blinking as you tentatively reach up and slide his goggles to his forehead. His honey brown eyes stare up at you, now unobstructed.

“I’m special?” You prompt, your face gravitating closer to his.

“Illogical,” he corrects with a slow nod, glancing down to your lips.

You giggle once more before removing the distance and pressing your lips to his. The kiss is short—simple but meaningful. Your noses brush together when you pull away and it’s quiet for a moment.

“…Y/n?” he mutters.

“Hm?” you hum, your fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I would like more of your attention.”

You were shaking in the navigator’s seat of the Marauder by the time the ship finally came in for landing, just like you had been for most of Omega’s very first flying lesson. But your body wasn’t trembling out of fear now. No, this time your hand was clamped over your mouth as your shoulders shook, suppressing laughter at how Tech had screamed just moments ago. 

“Omega, the stabilizers-!”

“Got it!” The ship gave one last shudder before its landing gear settled heavily on the pavement of Pabu’s central landing pad, the subsequent hiss almost echoing Tech’s sigh of relief. Omega immediately swung around to face him, her eyes shining hopefully. “Well, Tech? How’d I do?”

He took a moment to adjust his goggles, composing himself before giving an answer. “I would say that for a first lesson, your performance was… sufficient.” Omega’s cheer almost drowned out the rest of his words. “But you will require more lessons before you can operate the ship on your own.” He took a deep breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Many more.”

“I have to go tell Hunter!”

“Don’t forget to tell Wrecker, too!” you called after her as she darted from the cockpit. Moments later, you could see her running across the landing pad through the viewport, just before vanishing from sight. Then Tech sighed again, and you got to your feet.

He opened his eyes when he heard you approaching, and he reached for you as you got close. “Hold me.”

The laugh you’d been holding back finally escaped you as he pulled you into his chair. You settled across his lap comfortably with your legs draped over one of the armrests, lacing your fingers behind his neck while his arms wound around your waist to squeeze you tightly. “That was a lot, huh?”

“A lot?” Tech shook his head where it rested against your shoulder. “Meshl’a, we may need to work on your specificity. While I am relieved that she managed to land without reducing the Marauder to a flaming heap of shrapnel, I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that I have made it out of dogfights with a slower heart rate.”

You laughed again and leaned back to look at him. There was still a faint sheen of sweat gracing his forehead, and you raised a hand to smooth back a strand of hair that had gone awry. “Come on, she wasn’t that bad, love.”

“I’m sure I will come to the same conclusion in a few minutes. My logic has not fully returned just yet.”

You were the one to sigh this time as Tech stroked your hair, mirroring your touch. It was rare to see Tech this rattled, especially over something that some would see as so trivial, but it made sense. He didn’t like it when he wasn’t in control of a situation, and being at Omega’s mercy in a ship hundreds of feet above the ocean wasn’t exactly his idea of relaxing. There was silence for a few minutes as you both sat there in each other's arms, letting your heartbeats slow to sync with each other.

The quiet was disturbed by another deep breath from Tech, this one sounding much more calm than the others. “Alright. Even without my instruction and guidance in Omega studying the ship’s schematics, I will admit that she does exhibit a natural aptitude for piloting the Marauder. More training is required, obviously, but I have no doubt that she will be proficient soon enough.”

You raised your head to look at him. “I think she would love to hear that.”

He nodded slowly, patting your thigh in reassurance. “I’ll tell her at dinner tonight. The others will enjoy hearing about her lesson. She certainly did better than some of them did while we were cadets.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t make any mistakes your first time piloting a ship.”

Tech paused as his eyes darted away. “My first time is… not relevant.”

“Oh?” You straightened up quickly, alert with interest now. Had he actually messed up so badly that he didn’t want to tell you about it? You grabbed his chin to bring his gaze back to yours. “Tell. What happened?” He still hesitated, and you nudged him playfully. “Did you totally wreck the ship?”

He squared his shoulders defensively. “Of course not. I simply… memorized the specs for a different gunship and… fired a missile off the platform during my first evaluation.”

For a second, you just stared at him, completely shocked at the thought of him making such an error. Then you threw your head back and laughed.

Tech felt his cheeks begin to warm. “Don’t you laugh at me! I gave an exemplary performance on all other counts! And might I add, the interior setups of many Republic gunships exhibit various similarities with each other. It was a perfectly reasonable mistake for a young cadet to-”

His words were muffled by your lips on his, a soft press of pure affection that spoke of amusement rather than any real mockery. After a moment, Tech sighed again and surrendered to the kiss completely. He brought his hands up to cradle your face so he could tilt your head to the most optimal degree for your mouths to fit together. It was almost ridiculously thought out and calculated, but the adoration in the way he kissed back drowned out the thought of anything like that. Instead, you were back among the clouds again, your heart soaring with wings of its own in a dizzying feat only privy to you two.

Once he was sufficiently calmed, you drew back from the kiss to rest your head on his chest. Tech resumed running his fingers through your hair in a gentle caress. “Very well. I suppose I should give Omega a bit more grace. She is still learning, after all. Mistakes are to be expected.”

“Such a good teacher.” You shifted to nuzzle your face against his throat instead, pressing a faint kiss above his slowing pulse. “Maybe I could request my own private lesson sometime? Just to make sure I don’t make the same mistakes.”

They were doing something so important for the Galaxy. The Republic depended on them. Other people’s lives depended on them.

But you wanted them too and some fragment of you needed them too. How could anyone meet them and not become addicted to their presence?

Every time they came back to you, you inevitably indulged yourself in a dream of them tossing aside their duties for a civilian life. Even if it wasn’t for you, you’d still occupy a slice of their time. Wouldn’t you?

One of the clones in particular stood out to you. You vied for extra time alone with him amongst the already limited timeframes you were granted. 

Stuck in a daydream of anxiety you stood on your balcony, arms crossed and lost in the lights of the city beyond.

Little did you know you weren’t the only one with a fantasy of a different life - one with you in it.

 The Kaminoans drilled discipline into the clones. Not much of anything served as a temptation for them. Men like Cut were aberrations of their nature, but so were all of the men of Clone Force 99. 

The same man you dreamt of even tasted Cut’s temptation. Seeing you with someone else, seeing someone else by your side, made him realize that he’d like to be the one to stand by your side. And if he couldn’t do that he at least wanted you to know he wished he could be.

WRECKER

When you offered your bed to Wrecker, having Crosshair smashed up against him wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. It wasn’t that he and his brothers hadn’t slept dog-piled together plenty of times, it just seemed natural that sleeping in your bed might come with sleeping with you. 

Something he hadn’t realized he wanted until the idea was presented to him. 

Just like the idea of sleeping beside you, he’d never had much reason to think about your romantic life. Finding out you’d been seeing someone, seeing another man holding you, catapulted the concept into fruition. 

The said man quickly became an ex that night, but it made Wrecker wonder what it’d be like to be the one by your side. To be the one making you smile every day and keeping you warm at night.

Where Crosshair fell asleep almost instantly, Wrecker lay awake wondering where you were going to sleep and what you were going to do when they weren't with you. When he wasn’t with you.

Taking Crosshair’s elbow to the ribs was the last push Wrecker needed to roll out of your bed. Wrecker tiptoed around the rest of his squad scattered about your apartment in search of you.

A cool breeze chilled the skin of his exposed chest and led him to your balcony where you stood facing the city. You were lost in thought and unaware of his presence. Seizing the opportunity, Wrecker slowly padded over to you. 

He got within a step of you and slowly extended his arms out around you. Just for a moment, though, he appreciated how lucky he was to be this close with you. To be able to even think of touching you with no recourse. Then that moment was over and he snatched you up in his arms. 

You barely suppressed a yelp as he hauled your feet into the air. Your giggling echoed through his chest. You didn’t realize he was shirtless until he put you back on solid ground and you twisted around in his arms.

The two of you stood like that, loosely in each other's arms, until your giggles quieted and only the city sounds filtered between you.

Despite your best effort at modesty, your eyes fell to the eye level pec muscles. You’d rarely seen Wrecker out of uniform, let alone half naked. A sight that made you suddenly very thirsty. His muscles flexed, breaking your focus and earning a laugh from Wrecker. 

“Like what you see?” He chuckled as quietly as he could, barely mindful of his brothers inside.

Trying to look as uninterested as possible, you rolled your eyes and stepped back enough for his hands to slip off of your waist. “Show-off,” you mumbled playfully.

You peaked around him, looking for who else was up. “They’re all asleep.” Wrecker answered the obvious question. “I-I…” He fumbled around the reason he was the only one there, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Your face heated as you realized it would just be the two of you. Getting any of Batchers alone was rare given their circumstances. While you’d attempted to before, you’d never managed to get Wrecker to yourself. 

Ignoring how giddy the idea made you, you were quick to worry after why he couldn’t sleep. “Is it the bed?” You nervously asked.

Wrecker blew a raspberry and waved you off, “Your bed is fine.” When you kept staring up at him, silently waiting for further explanation, he tried to casually add, “Just couldn’t stop thinking is all.”

Relieved, you smiled and half-heartedly said, “Oh yeah? A credit for your thoughts.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. The two of you blinked at one another, both a little caught off by the failed attempt. Wrecker tried again, yet still he came up with nothing. 

Wrecker had never been a good liar to begin with and each lie he conjured sounded obvious. So he braced himself for the truth.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Me?” Your voice cracked with surprise.

Instantly regretting his decision, Wrecker stepped back, waving his hands anxiously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You grabbed his wands, stilling him and shutting him up. “You were thinking about me?” You asked, quieter this time.

Wrecker caved at your touch. Weakly smiling, he sighed and admitted, “Yeah, I think about you a lot.”

Surprise overtook you, but that didn’t stop a little smile from bubbling up. Every negative, anxious thought of tomorrow keeping you awake disappeared leaving only a stutter of half words to slip from you. 

Unable to compose your satisfaction with the news, you cleared your throat and replied simply, “Is that so?”

Your reaction widened his smile. Wrecker wasn’t sure what he expected, other than rejection, but it wasn’t bashfulness. Spurred on by the flush coming to your face, he took a step and a chance.

 He let out a soft laugh,“And I think I like you.” Lacing your fingers through his, he lifted one of your hands to his mouth. “That okay with you?”

His lips were hot on the back of your hand. Breathlessly you reassured him, “Of course,” With your free hand you palmed his cheek. Your earlier worry did begin to resurface. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

Wrecker’s chest squeezed. He didn’t want to either. He’d rather stay by your side and spend every night with you like this. It wasn’t possible yet, but at least for a night he could.

With hope in his voice, Wrecker asked, “Would you consider coming back to bed with me?”

If it had been anyone else, you might think they were making a pass at you. Between the light pull of Wrecker’s brows and him being, well, Wrecker, the thought barely occurred to you. Not to mention, it did sound much nicer than worrying yourself to exhaustion on the balcony.

So you followed Wrecker back and he slid into your bed, pushing Crosshair back with his hip. Flat on his back, Wrecker extended his arm out to invite you in next to him. Your eyes flit between Wrecker and Crosshair who was now adjusting himself around his brother.

Careful not to disturb the sniper, you gently tucked in next to Wrecker only for him to pull you in tight. He wiggled in place, nestling into an optimally cozy position, before sleepily mumbling to you, “You owe me a credit.”

You didn’t dare speak for fear of waking Crosshair, but you didn’t have to worry long. Crosshair was the one to respond from his side of Wrecker. “Shut it, Wrecker.” He cracked an eye open to lock onto you, “And not a word of this to anyone.”

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair opened his eyes, blinking back into reality tucked in your bed next to Wrecker. He sat up on his elbow, taking a few moments to remember where he was.

He’d fallen asleep so quickly, Crosshair barely remembered lying down. Not that he was surprised. He was at ease in your home, it was one of your effects on him. The other being irrationality. You made him irrational and, at times, distracted. It was the only way he could describe it. 

He cared for little beyond his squad and his missions, but an irrational side of him did wander into thoughts of you between missions. Visiting you settled Crosshair into just another routine - another fact of his life in the GAR. He didn’t care for post mission accolades, but seeing you was an indulgence he never fussed about.

Crosshair had been content to spend the rest of his career oscillating between crushing clankers and spending downtime with you and his brothers. That complacency was shot to shit when the Batch surprised you with a visit and you surprised them with a newly acquired boyfriend.

The memory of seeing that slimebucket with his hands around you heated Crosshair as fast as when he first laid eyes on him.

Fully aware he needed to cool off before he could even think of falling back asleep, Crosshair left bed to step outside. He’d passed the rest of his squad in a beeline for the still open balcony door. Something he was noting to nag you about when you came into his sights, leaning your forearms against the balcony railing and watching the city lights.

Crosshair froze for a moment, wondering how he missed the fact that you weren’t inside. Irrational and distracted, he thought to himself.

“It’s funny.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Crosshair half expected you to be mid conversation on a comm until you peaked back over your shoulder at him.

He walked over to you, pulling up beside you to mirror your position against the balcony. “What’s that?” Crosshair drawled.

Hiding your smile in your shoulder you shook your head and looked back out over the city. “I can always feel when you’re looking at me.”

Pushing himself to full height with a scoff, Crosshair crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing. “Is that an enhanced trait?”

You kept your eyes forward as you smiled and shook your head, as if surprising even yourself. “No enhancements.” You paused, a half thought crossing your mind before you winking in his direction. “Just your effect on me.”

The wink he expected, you were always playful and light. Your words though, short and haphazardly spoken, took Crosshair off guard. They sounded too familiar. He couldn’t tell if you were being serious.

Pinning you with a seriousness that dampened your smile, Crosshair said in a low voice, “Was that his effect?”

The mention of your ex instantly drained you. Rocking back on your feet, you dropped your gaze to the ground for a few beats, really considering how you wanted to play this out. You didn’t want to waste your energy or your time with Crosshair on that prod. 

On a deep breath you stood to your full height and faced him with a tired smile. “I don’t wanna talk about him, Cross.”

His nickname on your tongue almost softened him enough to avoid the subject, but he still pressed you. Using the weight of his hip, Crosshair moved away from the railing in defiance.

“Why don’t you?” There was a challenge in his voice he rarely aimed your way. A shred of cruel teasing bit through his words, “Embarrassed?”

“No.” The word left no room for discussion. You met his challenge with your own, countering, “Why do you want to talk about him?”

Crosshair didn’t answer immediately. That venom of his gone all at once. He held your gaze, suddenly unsure ‘why’ himself. The thought of your ex wasn’t a pleasant one, but a persistent one nonetheless.

When more than a few seconds passed and only silence and staring remained, you squinted briefly before an idea struck you.

A tight lipped grin sprouted over you. Crosshair’s eyes fell to your lips, finding nothing but suspicion in your new look. Meeting your eyes once more he dreaded to ask, “What?”

Your mouth squirmed in a desperate attempt to suppress your growing amusement. You gave him an amused once-over, your gaze trailing from his feet to his head as you stepped in on him. You were close enough now that one wrong sway would put your chest against him.

Crosshair didn’t back down. He was on edge, unsure of what suddenly changed, but he didn’t back off. “What?” He asked, insisting with more annoyance.

“Are you jealous?”

Jealousy was not in his vernacular let alone his nature. Snorting at the very notion, Crosshair opened his mouth to object. Nothing came out. 

Because maybe he wasn’t jealous, but he certainly was possessive. Combined with the irrational streak you gave him, it certainly did look like jealousy.

Having let you cherish the moment for far too long, Crosshair tilted his head sideways to return your once-over before leaning in on you. Clearly entertained, he drawled, “And what if I am?”

You were in each other’s breathing space. One tempting sway and you could taste him. Even after a shower he still smelled like mint and gun oil. Holding your resolve together with nothing but string, you asked in a less than steady voice, “Are you?”

The two of you locked into another silent showdown. On a whim of concession, Crosshair eased off of you. You thought he was going to redirect or bite back but instead he muttered, “Get over it already.”

You stifled a gasp, caught somewhere between laughter and shock. “You’re actually-”

He very nearly regretted his version of admitting his feelings. Rolling his eyes, Crosshair moved around you with your delighted look trailing him. He came to your back and guided you forward with his hands at your elbows.

You gently resisted, craning your neck back to beam up at him, “Where are we going?”

Crosshair couldn’t decide if this was quickly becoming annoying or you were looking more cute with every second your smile grew.

“Bed,” He casually said as he prompted you forward again. 

Your head snapped forward and you quiet until you got to your bed. The one Crosshair was also sharing with Wrecker.

Crosshair said nothing as he got in under the duvet, scooted back into his brother and pulled the covers back when there was enough room for you. You tried not to think about it too much as you crawled in next to Crosshair.

He pulled the covers back up over as he settled in behind you. You both fell silent, allowing the warmth of the moment to sink in.

A low, sleepy groan emanated from behind Crosshair that was followed by Wrecker’s thick arm slinging over the two of you. You went stock still, not sure what to make of the situation.

You opened your mouth to comment but Crosshair cut you short by pulling you in and mumbling, “Think carefully about what you’re going to say.”

You decided to leave it be.

ECHO

Laid back comfortably, eyes shut and good arm resting on his stomach, Echo dozed off while listening to Hunter and Tech chatter. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until he was rolling onto his side and his chair tilted farther back. The shift in balance jolted him straight into a state of alarm and confusion. 

After a few slow breaths, Echo looked around and his brothers were now fast asleep with Hunter taking the couch and Tech on the floor. He leaned over the arm of the chair to see down the hallway. It seemed Wrecker and Crosshair were out too.

He was halfway to assuming you’d slept somewhere in your room when he heard the muffled sounds of the city. Figuring you’d left a window open, Echo got up to investigate. You’d gone through the trouble of putting him and his squad up for the night, the least he could do was shut a window for you.

Echo only hoped you felt as cared for as he did. So it was frustrating, to say the least, for Echo to meet the ungrateful scumslug who called himself your boyfriend. He didn’t come across as the brightest man in the Galaxy and insulting you in front of five trained troopers proved that.  His squadmates didn’t pick up on him calling you a ‘barracks bunny,’ but the slight wasn’t lost on Echo. All of his training to remain logical under pressure vanished when he laid your ex flat.

For the rest of the night, Echo circled back to the thought of what happened to you when they left. You weren’t defenseless, but you were alone. That bothered him more than anything.

Instead of an open window, Echo found you alone on the balcony and could only guess how long you’d been out there. Hoping to side step spooking you, Echo softly called out to you from the doorway.

He didn’t entirely succeed in not startling you. It hardly seemed to matter by the smile you turned on him. You put your back to the city and playfully gestured at him, “And why aren’t you asleep?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Echo chuckled. He enjoyed laughing so easily with you. “What are you doing awake?” He asked as he approached.

You debated being honest about the selfish thoughts keeping you up, instead choosing to shrug it off with a half truth, “Couldn’t get settled is all. You?”

Glancing back inside the house, Echo rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I think that chair of yours might have it out for me.”

Instantly, you could see him falling back. “Oh no!” Resting a hand apologetically on your chest, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you.”

Echo scoffed playfully, dismissively gesturing his scomp arm, “Takes more than a chair to take down this trooper.” His features softened the longer he looked at you. The city lights brightened you beyond just your smile. Seeing you safe and smiling satisfied a male side of him.

A chill ran through you and, without thought, Echo came to your side to put his arm around you. Rubbing some warmth into your arm, he suggested, “Why don’t we get you inside?”

You didn’t budge. Looking up at Echo, your smile dimmed as you considered him. He saw a sort of skepticism flicker through you. Unbeknownst to him, you were searching those hazel eyes for an ounce of deceit, or even pity, and only tender honesty stared back at you.

Echo saw your typical confidence wane when your gaze dropped. You looked guilty, but of what was lost on him. His brows pulled together in question. Clones were trained from creation to withstand and divvy interrogations. Gently extracting information not so much.

Treading carefully, Echo gently probed, “What is it?”

Shaking your head, your features pinched and you asked, "Why did you go so far for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Echo countered instantly, not needing a single second to answer. He adjusted his position slightly, reeling back for a better view of your face. “I won’t let someone talk like that to you.”

The answer didn’t satisfy you. As nice as the sentiment was, its inevitably fleeting nature tarnished the moment. Your lips tightened to a thin line. Still not meeting his eyes, you sounded bitter saying, “You can’t always be here, Echo.” 

The truth hurt and it fed the unease eating away at him. He knew what it was like to be alone and he did everything he could to never be that way.

Steadying you by your shoulders, Echo bent down into your line of sight. Exhaling, he admitted, “You’re right and I wish I could be.” Your eyes shot up as he continued, “Just let me do what I can for now.”

He stood to full height, your eyes rising with him. You blinked up at him, repeating back to yourself what he’d said. There was a chance you were reading too much into it, but his words were enough to give you the courage to say, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Echo’s eyes widened, before warming again. “Hopefully a day will come when I won’t have to.”

There was nothing to hide your blatant hope in asking, “Do you mean that?” 

Pivoting to your side, Echo slid his arm back around you. Echo cocked his head back, brandishing a roguish grin as he said, “I’ve never meant anything more. Now let’s get inside already.” On the way in, his hand slipped to your waist and he muttered under his breath, “Let’s just hope that chair can handle two.”

Tech and Hunter were still fast asleep when you made it inside. You followed him to the recliner, watching him carefully position himself. Barely keeping the furniture balanced, Echo twisted around and made enough room for you to fit in. It took you squirming over his legs and nestling into the crook between him and the chair to get situated.

The two of you had never been this close for this long and the only thing you could think about was the fact that he wore aftershave. He tucked you under his chin, unintentionally giving you the perfect view of his neck. 

You turned your face into him, pressing a kiss into the crook of his neck and mumbling a thank you to him. One he answered by pulling you closer and returning the gesture.

HUNTER

From your couch, Hunter listened to you move around your apartment. He was intent on seeing you turn in for the night, but that moment never came. At some point between resting and tracing your movements, Hunter dozed enough for you to slip by him. The sound of your balcony door opening snapped him back to reality.

Hunter sat up, thumbing his bandana out of his eye and keenly extending his senses. You definitely weren’t inside. Knowing he wouldn’t get any rest until he knew you were safe and asleep, Hunter rose to find you. Even then, sleep might evade him.

He had a feeling he’d be losing a little more sleep after this evening with you. 

When they left for another mission, Hunter focused on the objective. Seeing you was always something he looked forward to, but he couldn’t dwell on what was behind him. Anything other than setting his sights ahead put his squad in danger. Besides, Hunter knew he was going to keep the Galaxy safe and by extension that meant you too.

This time around challenged that perspective. Your jackass of an ex had been easy to chase off, but what about when they left? Prior to seeing a man mistreat you, Hunter never doubted your ability to survive on your own. By your own admission you’d done so most of your life. 

Even after the encounter with your ex Hunter didn’t doubt you. 

He doubted the people around you. People who saw all you had to offer and wanted to use that to their advantage. In the end, Hunter wasn’t sure what he hated more: the thought of you getting close to ill-intentioned people or realizing it couldn’t be him.

Finding you alone on your balcony only compounded his worries. You were alone in the cold, and it finally occurred to him that his squad took up every viable place to sleep. How was he any different from others taking advantage of you?

That resentful part of him took in the view of you against the city and wished it was a sight exclusively for him. For a moment he let himself believe it was. If only for the night.

Hunter slowly approached you and quickly realized you were mumbling to yourself. Hoping to afford you the privacy of your thoughts, Hunter cut you off by whispering, “I know you don’t think I’ll let you stay out here all night.”

You jumped at his voice, nearly colliding into him as you spun around. He was only a foot or two away, angling a smile down at you. Breathing into calm, you gave him a light shove as you glanced around for anyone else.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,”  you protested, the beginnings of a grin betraying your feigned annoyance.

“Then don’t sneak out like that.” He retorted lightly, nodding towards the open door behind him. Hunter looked at the city beyond you, wondering if he could spot where you’d been fixated. Drifting back to you, Hunter asked, “What are you doing out here?”

Your smile flinched, but you shrugged with a casual shake of your head. “Just needed some air.”

Hunter nodded, clearly only halfway believing you. While convincing you to go back inside crossed his mind as the right thing to do, he opted for spending more time with you. “Care for some company?”

Your eyes flitted between his, ultimately shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t think so.” You said, your tone scolding. Stepping into him, you pressed your hands to his stomach in attempts to redirect him inside. “You need sleep.”

He relished the feeling of your touch before tenderly gripping your wrists. You stopped pushing, but passed him a confused look. Hunter swept his thumbs over the soft skin of your wrist, acutely aware of your quickened pulse beneath his fingers.. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You tugged your hands down, putting his hands in yours. On a tight grip you pulled him in, the force of it bringing his face an inch from yours. “Someone has to,” you insisted softly.

For all the fun they brought you it was so easy to forget that to most, Hunter and his squad were military assets. Outside of their worth in battle, little else about them mattered to the Galaxy. There was little you could offer them outside of occasional respite and hopeful thoughts and hope it meant something.

In his eyes, you saw the same thing that grew in you. Hesitancy - he was holding back, you both were. Neither of you spoke as you stood there, breathing in each other's presence. Slowly, Hunter raised your clasped hands to his lips, maintaining eye contact until his lips gently touched your skin.

“And who worries about you?” Hunter’s lips brushed your skin as he whispered.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” you countered.

The question halted the sergeant momentarily. It wasn’t that you were wrong, but that wasn’t his primary concern. Lowering your hands, Hunter sighed. "Worrying is nothing if I can't protect you."

The weight of his admission, hidden behind the hesitancy you glimpsed before, warmed you but looked heavy on his mind. You couldn’t fight. You were no trooper and absolutely no Jedi. But you could do one thing..

His hand was still holding yours when you reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the outline of the tattoo on his cheek. You offered him a broad, reassuring smile, taking a moment to admire the moment.

“Hunter,” his name was a hum in your voice. “I can protect myself.” He immediately opened his mouth, surely an objection not far behind, but you outspoke him. “Protect those who can’t protect themselves and when this war is over…” You paused, taking a deep breath as you searched for the right words. “Well, I'll still be here when it is.”

It may not have been poetry, but the lightness in his smile, meager and fleeting though it was, told you that burden was a little lighter.

“Come with me.” He whispered between you.

You instinctively pulled back. Leaving Coruscant, joining him in the stars - it was absurd. “Hunter, I can’t-”

“To the couch,” he clarified with a soft chuckle..

Heat rushed your cheeks at the misunderstanding. Clearing your throat you nodded, “Okay.”

He gave your hands a squeeze, held onto one, and guided you back inside. The apartment was silent, the living room dark and you were thankful for Hunter’s senses. He led you to the couch, motioning for you to go first.

You slid into place, pressing your back into the couch as Hunter joined you, caging you between his body and the couch. A vague attempt at watching over you for the night. 

Hunter pulled his bandana down over his eyes as he settled in around you.  Speaking in a tone low enough for only you to hear, he said, “I can’t promise the next one will get off so easily.”

The words were both a joke and a threat, wrapped in his unique brand of dry humor. You lightly scoffed, wrapping an arm over his chest and drawing him closer. “There won’t be a next one. Not until the war is over,” you mumbled into his chest.

TECH

Lying in a nest of blankets on your floor, Tech replayed the evening while your apartment settled into silence. Despite having found you and spent the evening in your company, a persistent restlessness gnawed at him, preventing any sense of ease.

So, he scoured the night’s happenings for the piece that kept his peace at bay.

The search for you had been brief and relatively straightforward—a minor challenge that excited Tech. Discovering you in a lounge, especially clad in an open-backed dress, had been a surprise that quickened his pulse. However, it wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the sight of a morally dubious man claiming to be your partner.

While he found no logic in your accepting amity, let alone intimacy, from a man who either lacked the capability, knowledge, or desire to measure up to you, the man was easily dissuaded and you were safe. Logically, there was no reason for lingering concern.

Spending the evening in your quarters should’ve dispelled any remaining apprehension. Your life was not at risk. In fact, there had been no mortal danger at all. Everything worked out. His search had been successful. You were safe.

And yet, he was left with an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty - a feeling he was less than comfortable with.

After returning to your apartment, Tech busied himself by installing several security enhancements and scrutinizing local crime statistics. Beyond that, there was little else he could do for you. You were adaptable and resourceful, he would not insult you by thinking you could not take care of yourself.

He also wouldn’t insult you by rejecting the makeshift bed you offered him. Though, by Tech’s surmising, that left nowhere for you to sleep. A theory proved right by you leaving Wrecker and Crosshair in your room, sneaking past the room where he lay and back out of sight.

Something wound tight in Tech’s chest. In a move of innate curiosity, he swept his blankets aside and followed in your footsteps. He was keen to see where you had gone or to just have eyes on you again.

You were a few silent steps ahead, leaving a cracked balcony door as the only indication of your path. Finding you lingering at the edge of your balcony stopped him at the door. It was the tension leaving his chest that struck him.

The physical relief was recognizable - the very same he felt each time they found you and the direct opposite of the pressure he felt meeting your former partner. The pressure was identical in the moments you were out of view. 

Tech adjusted his goggles as the pattern became clear. At the core of it all, you were the variable between the fleeting sensations. Identifying the truth of his unease came with the inevitable frustration of being unable to alter the circumstances. In the end, there was only one path forward.

He made no attempt to hide his presence, watching you stiffen as he drew near. Anchoring yourself to the railing, you leaned forward on an inhale and rocked back on the exhale. 

Unsure how to interpret your going taut, he asked outright, “Do you… wish to be alone?” Eyes fixed on the city you shook your head only once in response. Following your line of sight, Tech looked over the city and saw nothing of note.

A distant shout had him reaching for his datapad, something he left beside his nest of blankets. In lieu of reading through statistics Tech tuned his goggles to survey the street below. “The locality of your home is not what I’d deem a secure district.”

“It was probably just some drunk idiot,” you mumbled, not dissuading Tech from continuing to look around. Glancing sideways at him you had to smile at the seasoned soldier gripping the balcony and seemingly so intrigued by city life. Softly scoffing, you said, “There’s nothing to worry about, Tech.” 

“On the contrary,” Tech replied simply. Pulling his attention back to you, he kept one hand on the railing and said in a serious tone, “Your balcony makes you susceptible to intrusion and you’ve already fallen in with unsavory company.”

The last bit stung, but he wasn’t wrong. The concern, blunt as it may be, did feel nice.

Placing your hand over his, you tried to reassure him, “I’m fine, aren’t I?” His pursed into a thin line, clearly unwavering. Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, you added lightly, “Besides, you have more important things to worry about.”

Tech’s head tilted to the side, his eyes momentarily averting, but returned still as serious as before. “My duty to the Republic does take precedence, but that does not make your life any less important to me.”

You blinked once, then twice, absorbing his words. A part of you, a large part in fact, hoped the words carried more weight than just comfort. 

You must’ve looked as taken off guard as you felt for Tech to ask, “Does that surprise you?”

You opened your mouth, ready to make a denial, only to snap your mouth shut again. Once more you tried to speak but only, “A little,” came out. The two words tasted harsh, as if you were making light of the situation and of his feelings. Stepping closer, you lowered your voice and quickly added, “You mean so much to me. I just… I -” In an uncharacteristic fit of stammering you spat out, “I just didn’t think you cared that much.”

Tech’s gaze fell to where you held his hand, his brows furrowing behind his goggles. You felt his hand twitch beneath yours before it fully twisted, placing his palm against yours. For a few moments, you stood like that, hand in hand with his gaze locked on your hold.

His focus remained there, his thumb starting gentle paths as he slowly said, “I admit that I… only recently came to the conclusion myself.”

“What changed?” His eyes snapped to yours at your question.

Tech’s brows lifted and along with a corner of his lips. “It would appear the sight of you in the company of your former partner was not one I found enjoyable.”

The realization that all your hopes had rung true left you breathless. A warm flush spread across your cheeks, accompanied by a smile that not only curved your lips but also reached your eyes.

You laced your fingers into his, eagerly confessing, “Tech, I-”

“Where do you intend to sleep?” Tech cut you off with no thought to what you’d attempted to say.

Lost in the heat of the moment you took a moment to blink back into the present. “I’m sorry?”

Tech pointed a finger towards the door going inside. “You gave up every viable sleeping arrangement. Where will you sleep?”

Instead of admitting your previous intentions of avoiding sleep, you shrugged with an amused sigh. Hands still intertwined, you stepped back, tilted your head back and chuckled. “I was playing it by ear.”

“There is enough room beside me for you to fit.” Tech said matter of factly. A playful glint passed through his eyes. “Shall we find out?” You immediately conceded, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

As per usual, Tech was right. There was more than enough room for you both to fit into his makeshift bed. Tech adjusted the pillows to his liking and laid back, the both of you looking up at the ceiling in silence. Eventually Tech turned with his back to you, seeking some reprieve from the air between you.

Taking the opportunity before you, you scooted in behind him. He was nearly a foot taller than you, but somehow you fit in nicely behind him. He said little, simply adjusting back against you and positioning your arms around him. 

Just as he settled in, he started twisting in place, saying, “I should make note of such a significant moment.”

You answered his movements by tightening your arms around him. “Tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

He didn’t struggle against you, choosing to settle back again. “I fear that it will be harder than I originally imagined.”

tags: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @jetii @hshfsjzjsgj @zahmaddog @heidnspeak

You hesitated, holding out the broken radio. “My radio… it stopped working. I’ve tried to fix it, but I think it’s beyond me. Could you… maybe take a look?”

Tech took the device, his fingers gliding over its worn edges as he examined it. After a few moments, he sighed and shook his head slightly. “The internal components are severely outdated and damaged. Without the proper parts, I don’t believe I can restore it to working order.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, extinguishing the small flicker of hope you’d been clinging to. You tried to mask your disappointment, but your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

“I see,” you murmured, forcing a weak smile. “Thanks for looking, anyway.”

Tech nodded, already turning back to his project. “I need to return to more pressing matters.”

You bit your tongue, trying not to take his words too personally. He likely didn’t mean to sound so… dismissive. But as you walked away, the sense of isolation grew heavier. Without that radio, the distance between you and your loved ones felt even more insurmountable.

On your way out, you passed Hunter, who immediately noticed the change in your demeanor. He’d sensed your growing homesickness for the last few days. Naturally, he wanted to help. He wasn’t going to bring it up to you, but he had seen the way you looked at Tech thinking nobody was looking, how you lingered just a tad around him. He wasn’t going to do it just for your sake, however, but for Tech’s as well.

He made his way to the cockpit, where Tech was still engrossed in his work. “Tech, got a minute?” Hunter asked, his voice casual but with an underlying seriousness.

Tech glanced up, his focus shifting to the Sergeant. “What do you need?”

Hunter leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “I want to talk about her,” he said, nodding in the direction you’d gone. He watched as Tech’s expression remained neutral, though he caught a slight tension in his posture. “Is she alright?”

“She seems well enough,” Tech replied, pushing up his goggles slightly. “Though her radio is broken.”

“And?” Hunter prompted.

“Unfortunately, it’s beyond repair without the necessary components, which I don’t have on hand.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “I get that it’s not an easy fix. But she’s been down lately, and that radio was her connection to home. Fixing it would mean more to her than you might realise we.”

Tech paused, considering Hunter’s words. “I understand the emotional significance, but I must reiterate that the repair is not simple. Besides, I’m occupied with other tasks.”

Hunter studied Tech for a moment longer, knowing how his mind worked—analytical, logical, always focused on efficiency. But Hunter also knew something else, something Tech might not fully grasp about himself. “Look, Tech, I’ve seen how you look at her. You care about her, even if you don’t always show it.”

Tech’s eyes widened slightly, and he straightened, clearly taken aback. “I assure you, my concern is purely professional—”

“Sure,” Hunter interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “But maybe this is your chance to show her you’re there for her. You might not be able to say it outright, but fixing that radio would mean the world to her. And it might just help you both cross that bridge.”

Tech fell silent, processing Hunter’s words. The idea of showing his care through action, rather than words, resonated with him. After all, he’d always been more comfortable expressing himself through his skills than through direct emotional communication.

“I understand,” Tech finally said, his voice thoughtful. “I’ll… reconsider the matter.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The next day, Tech found you outside the ship, sitting on a crate and staring up at the stars. The vastness of space had always reminded you of how far you were from home, and today was no different. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice Tech until he was right beside you.

He called your name softly, causing you to startle. You quickly wiped at your eyes, hoping to hide the tears that had welled up.

“Oh, Tech,” you stammered, trying to compose yourself. “I didn’t hear you.”

Without a word, he held out the small radio, and your breath caught in your throat. “I managed to repair your radio,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I was able to source the necessary components from some older equipment we had in storage.”

You stared at the radio, hardly believing it. “You… you fixed it?”

“Yes,” Tech confirmed, his gaze holding yours as he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks. “It should function properly now.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time from gratitude rather than sadness. You took the radio from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did. “Thank you, Tech. I don’t even know what to say. I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

A faint warmth danced across Tech’s cheeks, though his expression remained composed. “It was the least I could do,” he replied, his voice a bit softer than usual.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s no need. The repair was quite fascinating, actually…” he began to explain, launching into the technical details of the repair. But you could only watch him, a sense of awe and affection growing as you listened.

Overwhelmed by emotion, you leaned in to kiss his cheek, wanting to show him just how much this meant to you. But as you did, Tech, likely calculating the movement or perhaps just reacting instinctively, turned slightly into you, and your lips ended up brushing against his.

Both of you froze, eyes wide in surprise. Tech blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. But before he could say anything, you quickly pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his tone hurried. “That wasn’t my intent—”

But you silenced him by gently placing your hand on his cheek, guiding him back toward you. No words were needed, and you leaned in, kissing him again, this time with intent and certainty.

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then, as if some unseen barrier had finally been crossed, it deepened, filled with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His hands rest nervously on your hips, suppressing a quiet moan in his throat as you tilt your head just a touch, your lips dancing together beautifully.

When you finally parted, both of you were a little breathless, a little flustered. Tech’s usually composed demeanor was slightly shaken, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words.

“You don’t need to apologise,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I’m glad it happened.”

Tech’s expression softened, and for once, he didn’t overthink. He simply nodded, understanding what you meant without needing to analyse it. “So am I.”

Tags: @lulalovez @the-bad-batch-baroness @photogirl894

@whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

You balanced yourself on the beam, steadily walking across with eyes darting back and forth for anything that seemed of use.  Or, at least, a new pathway, or bridge, or anything that could lead you somewhere new, where there was the possibility of supplies.  Or food, or some type of communication device, or, quite literally, anything.  You weren’t picky, given the circumstances- couldn’t afford to be.  But in truth, there was little to no chance of finding anything new.  You’d scavenged through the ship countless times, and for the past…however long, there’d been nothing new.  You hadn’t missed anything from the previous ventures, no small creature had drug in anything from outside or from a part with limited access, nothing fell to reveal a hidden treasure of some sort.  Absolutely nothing.  But yet, each day you once again went out with a glimmer of hope- or denial- that there would be something.  Or maybe it was just a feeble attempt to focus your mind away from the events.  Not that it worked.

As the beam came across a body of water, you peered down to the pool, loathing at what was reflecting back- raggy, dirty, and bloody.  Kriffing Hell, I could be mistaken for a Tusken Raider with this shit-job of a covering.  Your normal Padawan robes, as well as ones from your Master, had been torn into several chunks, and wrapped around different limbs, as well as pieces of fabric from any corpses you’d stumble upon.  Layered on top of those was a poncho-cloak, barely holding on by a thread.  An oxygen mask hung limply around your neck, and was covered with a fine coating of dirt and grime, with splattered blood on top.  Bandages, cloth, and even animal pelts wound loosely around your head, leaving only small holes and strips for the mouth, nose, and eyes.  Your waist was adorned with a make-shift gear belt, holding a multitude of different bones- sharpened and shaped to become tools and methods of protection.  Your Lightsaber bumped lightly with each step, an eternal reminder to what happened- and as many bad thoughts as it brought, it would be an absolutely idiotic move to ditch the weapon.  Not wanting to look any longer, you pulled back your head and took a deep breath, continuing on.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rex led the squad of modified clones through the dirty, deserted and desolate hallways, shining a light so nobody fell to their demise.  The group talked about the war, inhibitor chips, and the like until they came across a large canyon, so to speak.  Rex, Omega, Tech, Hunter, and Echo all shimmied their way across, leaving Wrecker to go last.  “You can do it!  Just keep your eyes on the table,” Omega yelled encouragingly.  With a few grunts and a shake of his head, Wrecker began climbing the cable upside down.  Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, it couldn’t hold his weight, plummeting him down to the murky water.

The collective panic from all six clones shot out an incredibly large Force ‘wave’ to the padawan, of which felt as though he was being hit by a speeder bike head-on and then ricocheted into a Bantha.  The shock of realizing that someone- scratch that, multiple someones- were here, on the ship with him, at this exact moment was more than enough to cause (Y/N) to stumble backwards from where he was standing and trip over some debris, falling flat on his ass.  Once (Y/N) could gather that he and the strangers had a decent amount of space in between them, his breathing calmed- but not enough to be normal.

(Y/N) carefully got up, watching his foot placement, before turning to where he had been sleeping and recouping for the past few months.  His legs felt both stiff and shaky, his vision was blurry, and his breathing was ragged.  Once (Y/N) was finally in the small space that contained his very few belongings, he fell to the floor, backed into the wall, and curled up into a tiny, and rather pathetic, ball.  People were here.  (Y/N) didn’t know if they were good, or bad- or if they weren't much of either.  Didn’t know their motives, didn’t know anything.  When (Y/N) had prayed to the Force to find new things, this is not what he meant.  At all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Soon enough, and with several general or head-based injuries, all four men had their inhibitor chips removed.  Omega and Hunter were walking around, exploring this and that and whatnot.  Mainly because Omega would have done so anyway, but she most definitely needs supervision on the death-trap that is so humbly called a ship.  Unfortunately for you, the pair was getting awfully close to his “hide-out.”  Even worse, it seemed Hunter was aware of that as well.

“Omega…I think there’s someone here with us.  Stay close,” he whispered, pulling out his blaster.  Your breathing grew faster and more shaggy, and your vision clouded.  What could I do?  They’re in front of the only exit, and I haven't fought a person, or even touched my lightsaber in Force knows how long!  Considering the only way out, other than direct confrontation, seemed to be a 100+ foot drop- the choice was more or less clear.  You shakily stood up, grabbed the lightsaber which had been doing nothing else than collecting dust (and bad memories), and began to sprint as fast as possible, shoulder aimed at the door.  Dank Farrik, please- don’t let me die like this.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hunter jumped back, quickly grabbing Omega’s arm and pulling her out of the way with him.  And lucky he did, otherwise she may have been crushed by the metal plate that went flying as the cloaked figure stumbled and bolted.  Immediately, Hunter reached up to his comm and reported, “There’s somebody else on the ship!  His motive is unclear- just blasted through a door and ran- looks like he’s going for an escape.”

On the other end, Wrecker almost jumped out of his skin in excitement- “Finally!  Some action!”  Tech couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Wrecker’s interest in beating someone to hell and back.  After some more information was passed through, Wrecker and Tech had an approximate idea of where they needed to head in order to intercept the stowaway.  Since Hunter had said that the mystery person appeared to be running away, stealth was not an objective for the pair- running through loudly was acceptable.

(Y/N) was solely focused on getting out- not where the others could be.  Which was a terrible mistake- if you’re running away from somebody, it’d generally be wise to know where they are.  Tech could guess as much, and used it to his advantage.  Although he hadn’t gotten a full map of the ship, based on Hunter’s location report, the mystery person’s motive, and the ship being heavily damaged, he could make a reasonable estimate as to where the person would be.

To no one’s surprise, Tech was absolutely correct.  After instructing Wrecker where to go, they had each blocked the end of a hallway.  Wrecker had cut in front and faced the mystery person head on, grinning as cracking his neck, while Tech had stealthily followed from a ways behind.  By the time Tech caught up, the mystery person had already slammed to a stop and immediately turned around to exit the other end, but to no avail.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You ran as fast as you could, and you really did try paying attention to your surroundings, but it was all utterly useless.  The intruders had pinned you.  One giant guy to the front, and one smart guy to the back.  Brains and brawn.  Your heart beat far too fast, feeling the thump thump in your head, being far too hot, and your vision was rapidly becoming smaller and more tunneled.

It didn’t help when the big guy spoke, and you realized they were clones.  Odd clones, granted, but clones, who, as far as you knew, executed Order 66, executed your Master, friends, your entire sense of familiarity and comfort.

You weren’t prepared for this- you hadn’t trained in months, or even used your lightsaber.  There was no means of escape, considering the second either of them saw you reach for a weapon, it would be over.  Running would do you no good, and if they had followed Order 66, talking wouldn’t do any good either.  It seemed you’d join the other jedi in whatever afterlife awaited.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The figure fell flat on their ass and scrambled half-way backwards and half-way to the nearest wall after hearing Wrecker’s voice- they were shaking, sweat drenching their clothes all the way through, and, all in all, resembling a caged animal who knew it was done for.  A loud echo ran out as the figure roughly contacted the metal wall, and pulled their legs up, semi-resembling the fetal position, as their hands were still on the ground.

Wrecker and Tech slowly approached the figure, blasters balanced on their arms.  Both took notice of the shaky and rapid breathing, the occasional twitching, and how the figure seemed to be ever-so-slightly rocking.  This person was a very good actor, or nothing more than someone scared, who was in the very wrong place at the wrong time.  They both assumed the latter.

As Tech walked forward, he used his scanner to find the general age and species of the subject, brows furrowing as results came forward.  The figure was somewhere in between 15 and 18, was (chosen species), and, as more data was collected, Tech discovered that the figure was a Jedi.  Or, at the very least, someone with a high midichlorian count.  He stopped walking, lowered his blaster- not a lot, but just enough, and gestured to Wrecker to copy.  Wrecker made a grunt in confusion, not understanding.  Tech sighed and replied, “I do not believe they intend to harm us.  If my data is correct, they are a teenager, and most likely a padawan.  And it would seem they do not wish to engage through a fight, anyway.  Put your weapons down.”

(Y/N)’s head darted back and forth between the two, confused- was he safe?  They were clones- were they not going to execute Order 66, or at the very least, kill him as a simple intruder?  Just then, a third clone appeared- one with half the helmet white, the other black, with a few more details and some large red stripes.  He had a vibro-knife in one hand, extended outward with a curve, and his other hand, holding a blaster, rested on top of it.  “Hunter, I do not think they are a threat- at least, at this moment.  There has been no attempt to harm us as of yet, and they appear to be force sensitive, which would most certainly warrant an attempt to flee from a group of clones,” Tech informed.  (Y/N) slowly reached his hand towards the lightsaber on his makeshift belt, but didn’t quite grab it- not yet.  Hunter slowly put his weapons away and set down his helmet, a small hiss ringing out when he took it off.

He crouched just enough to seem smaller and slightly less intimidating, without looking like he was getting ready to spring up.  He extended his hands, walking slowly towards (Y/N).  “We’re not here to hurt you- we're not like the other clones– we’ve had our inhibitor chips removed.  You’re safe,” he spoke slowly and clearly.  Tech jumped in, “The inhibitor chips are what programmed the regs– the other clones– to execute Order 66.  So we don’t want to hurt you.”  Wrecker grunted something in agreement.

“Now, we have a functioning ship with us, and we can get you out of here- somewhere safe, or at least, more safe than here, okay?  We have food, water, medical care, and we have a place to stay where the Empire won’t bother us.  Let us help you.”  By the time Hunter had finished his little speech, he was only a few feet away from (Y/N), crouching down, now eye-level with him.  (Y/N)’s hand slowly came away from his saber.  This felt safe- he could sense it, more or less.  There wasn’t actually any danger, and the clone, who (Y/N) assumed was Hnuter, felt safe and honest– reminding him of the warmth and comfort the Jedi Temple, his fellow Padawans, his Master, all brought him.

(Y/N) tried to say something, but his voice caught and cracked horribly- a mixture of the panic, and having not talked to anyone in months.  He felt his eyes water behind the terribly dirty rags, which stung more than it should have.  “Let's start by getting those rags off you, okay?  Tech, bring over some bacta-spray and clean bandages,” Hunter instructed.  Tech did as he was told, fishing out some spray and bandages from one of his several pouches that lined his waist.  

Tech passed the supplies to Hunter, who indicated for him and Wrecker to go report to the rest what was happening.  He directed his attention back to (Y/N), calmly asking, “I’m gonna take off your face wrappings, alright?”  (Y/N) mumbling what Hunter assumed was an ‘okay,’ and felt his body go heavy and almost limp.  Hunter reached up, tenderly brushing against the Padawan’s face, swiftly untying the bounds of cloth.  He quickly used his other hand to bring the rest of it down, now draped around (Y/N)’s neck.  His face was dirty, caked in dirt, grime, and what appeared to be blood.  The mixture of paste, so to speak, was cracked and chipping, looking like a desert’s mud-crack.

Whether or not he meant to, Hunter grimaced at the sorry state of the Padawan.  He took his gloved hands to try and brush and scrape off the majority of the paste off, which was primarily successful.  After the layer of muck was removed, Hunter found one long gash, following the curvature of (Y/N)’s jawline, from just below the eye to just above his mouth.  It was inflamed and oozing, and was most certainly going to need stitches.  He held up the bacta-spray, and lightly spritzed it onto the wound.  A sharp hiss sounded out from (Y/N), who was now squinting his eyes.  Hunter mumbled some sort of apology before taking out the bandage and delicately, yet firmly at the same time, placed it on the gash.

“Are there any more major injuries we should worry about?  We can take care of the smaller ones on the ship, but still.  Better safe than sorry.”  (Y/N) shook his head no.  Hunter slowly stood up, and extended a hand, but (Y/N) just seemed to stare at it.  Slowly, though, the Padawan extended his own hand out, flinching and hesitating once his arm was half-way extended.  After a few seconds, though, he fully reached out and tightly grabbed the man’s hand.  Using the wall behind him, (Y/N) pushed himself up, legs shaky.  As soon as he was steady, (Y/N) ripped his hand away, bringing it close and pinning it tightly against his own chest.

Hunter commed Tech, instructing him to get everyone on-board the Marauder, and to try and use any spare pieces of clothing or blanket to form some type of clean cover that would fit the Padawan.  After what seemed to last forever, Hunter broke the silence- “So, what's' your name, kid?”

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled, quiet enough that only Hunter’s enhanced ears could make it out clearly.  The pair continued their walk through the broken up ship, eventually coming up to the ramp that led out to the Marauder.  (Y/N) brought his arm to his eyes, squinting at the sun- being far too bright, seeing as he hadn’t gone out of the ship in Maker knows how long.  Hunter took notice and briefly stopped, turning his head back to the teenager.

“You alright?  I’m sure I have something if you want to block out the sun for the walk,” he gently offered.  (Y/N) silently shook his head no, while slowly taking his arm down, bringing it back down to his chest, head and eyes solidly trained on the ground.  Hunter stared for a few seconds more, just to be sure, before continuing on towards the Marauder.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your head was woozy, your heart beating out of your chest, and you were simultaneously shaking, yet felt numb.  All in all, it felt terrible.  And perhaps even worse, you knew there was no real reason to feel this way.  You were finally safe.  And there was no possible way that the clones would turn and execute you.  They would have done so already, without a doubt!  Why would anyone go against direct orders, and pure convenience, just to make someone suffer more?  That would be beyond inadequate. And it just made you feel terrible for not trusting them, or at the very least, for being suspicious of them.  And now your head hurt more than before.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, but was no more than a five minute walk, the pair came up on the Havoc Marauder, in all its battle worn glory.  Echo was leaning on the frame to the entry ramp, draping a clean, albeit worn and torn, wool poncho over his scomp.  From the time Echo had spent with them, he gathered that the Jedi seemed to really like their ponchos.

As you and Hunter finally came up to the ramp, you froze.  Your heart got significantly louder, palms sweater, which, by the way, was never pleasant under the dirty rags, and your eyes began darting around.  There was only one way out, it seemed.  If the group did have ill intent, you’d be done for as soon as you set a single toe in the ship.  That was not a comforting thought.  Hunter could hear your heartbeat and smell your sweat (or rather, the reaction it has with your skin) from a mile away.

Alerted by this change in demeanor, he turned back to look at you- who was completely frozen stiff, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape and pulled downwards.  He may have been prepared for any mission the Republic gave him, but there certainly wasn’t any briefing on traumatized teenagers- let alone force sensitive teens.  Kriff, he barely knew how to socialize with the Regs, and it was a miracle he could bond as much as he did with Omega.

Echo, even with his lack of enhanced senses, could easily see Hunter’s predicament.  “How about you get the rest of the squad together, keep it calm for the kid.  I’ll go take care of this.”  Hunter silently nodded in thanks, brushing past his brother to head inside and start giving orders.  That he was good at, no matter the topic.

Echo slowly, but not too slowly, as that would seem like a predator circling its prey, walked down the ramp and stood just in arm’s reach of the Padawan.  You seemed to stare at each other for an eternity before he slowly handed you the poncho.  “Here… seems you Jedi like ponchos, and we had one lying about.  Hope it works.  Got some more fabrics up on the ship, if you need any.  And better med-kits, stuff to find infections or fevers.  In case.”  He spoke both in a calm and precise manner, and continued on, “Name’s Echo, by the way.  Yours?  If you don’t mind, anyway.”

You didn’t respond for a few more seconds, taking it all in.  Finally, you mustered up a small response, “(Y/N)... and thank you.”  Echo smiled lightly, extending the poncho out a  bit further.  Quickly, you threw off the old poncho, which wouldn't have lasted another week, and put on the fresh new one.  “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, at least around the arms and face, yeah?  We’ll be on another planet soon, and then you can get some proper fitting clothes.”

Echo turned and walked back up the ramp, making sure he could hear your footsteps following him.  A few steps after you had gotten in, and the ramp seemed to slam shut.  Realstickly, it was probably shutting for a while, but you hadn’t noticed it until it registered that there was no way out now.  And everything seemed so tight.  Sure, you had just been in a wrecked ship for Maker knows how long, but it was a big one.  Now, you were stuck on a much smaller ship, with however many clones.  Before the claustrophobia and feeling of complete despair could kick in, a small blond girl tugged at your burnt, calloused, and wrapped up hands, attempting to pull you somewhere.  Of course, given your larger mass, as well as training, you didn’t budge, not one bit.  You stared down at the young girl, eyes wide, yet blank.  To say it disturbed her would be an understatement.

“Omega!  I’m Omega, and this is Lula- Wrecker’s tooka doll!” she exclaimed, bringing your attention to a large stuffed…rabbit?  Or… loth cat?  It was hard to say.  It had a black body, with red sock paws, similar to the red tips on its ears.  The tooka doll sported some pattern of white, clearly resembling a face, with two red dots for eyes.  Distracted by the stuffed creature, she could successfully pull you, where she then disposed of you in someone's bunk.  She all but slammed Lula into your chest before running off, what, or who she was looking for, a complete mystery.

She came back with a collection of blankets, pillows, and snacks, and most certainly more than she could carry. Immediately, Omega got to work, bundling you like a baby in a blizzard.  You were too stunned to do anything, really.  What could you do, anyway?  After about two or so minutes of her layering, she paused, and frowned.  “How are you going to eat if your hands and arms are covered! Agh!”

She quickly began undoing her work, until your arms could be brought out, and then resumed the stacking of blankets.  All you could do was blink repeatedly, ever confused.  After another five or so minutes, she smiled triumphantly at her work.  “Perfect!  Here, have some mantell mix!” she said as she shoved a fist full of some clunky substance into your palm.  Looking down at it, mouth watering, you slowly reached down and plucked one of the misshapen balls, and popped it into your mouth.  And by the Maker, was it delicious.  Your eyes widened, and without a second thought, your hand flew to your mouth, sending the entire pile of mantell mix down your throat.  After eating random rodents, insects, and food that was quite possibly expired from the ship, this mantell mix was a blessing to your senses.

As you continued chewing and swallowing the treat, you leaned back against the hard wall of the ship, a quiet, content sigh escaping.  While it certainly wasn’t the most comfortable, it was ten thousand times better than anywhere you had slept on the Venator.  Lula was still resting across your chest, and Omega smiled proudly at your comfort before running off again.  Although it was muffled, you could hear her talking to one of the clones, before grabbing something and running back towards you.

“I was training with Nala Se and the medical equipment at the Kaminoan facilities, so I can fix you up!  Now, where does it hurt the most?”  She was a bit too excited about her ‘patient’ needing help, you thought.  It was cute, though.  The younglings and other Padawan at the Jedi Temple were like that, too– always eager to be the first to help, even in situations where most would never be joyous.  You supposed there wouldn’t be any harm in humoring the girl, even if she was, by all means, a possible threat, with everyone else on the ship.  I mean, if they did plan to harm or kill you, there’d be no chance of survival, so you might as well play along with the little girl.  Either your last moments wouldn’t be too bad, or you’d start bonding with your saviors.  Either version was a win, in one way or another.

Cocking one eyebrow, you raised a question– “How are you supposed to take care of me if I can’t move under all these layers?  That seems rather counter-productive, no?”  Her face molded into one of thought and consideration, nodding her head in agreement.  Before you could register her next move, she essentially lunged, quickly stripping you of the layers for the second time within the hour.  Now, the blankets all strewn around you resembled a porg’s nest, without the sticks and twigs, anyway.  Omega yanked your arm forward, a tad too eager, considering you should always be gentle with your patients.  Your eyes squinted, brows furrowed in a smidge of pain- Omega immediately noticed, and gave you a sheepish smile before apologizing and bringing it towards her more gently.

She carefully wrapped the bandages off of your arm, eyes widening at the…state of it.  Burn spots, blisters, scratches, bruises, and more littered the entirety of it, looking like it came out of a horror holo-film.  You stared at it rather intensely.  You had no clue it was this bad.  I mean, it hurt, obviously- you were in a crashed ship and had no proper care for however long.  Of course it was going to hurt.  But seeing it, that was still a shock.

“Umm… I should probably get Tech.  I’m not this good, I don’t think…” Omega whispered, frowning.  She scurried off, but you just kept staring.  How could you have let it get this bad?  Was all the training useless?  Or was it you?

Tech, the one with goggles and a plethora of gear, came over, holding what Omega had given him, and more.  His armor was still on, but the helmet had been discarded.  He bent down on one knee, and scanned over your body, checking for any and all injuries.  And, oh boy, did he have his work cut out for him.  Tech carefully took your arm in his gloved hands, and stared for a little bit before spraying a lot of bacta on.  You lurched forward, bringing your other hand to your side, in a feeble attempt to focus the pain elsewhere.  Your brows scrunched, and cheeks pulled down, biting your tongue in every attempt to not bother him any more.

“Let me know when it stops stinging.  Most of the bacteria should be gone, then.  We’ll still clean it out routinely, as they’ve been untreated for so long,” he spoke precisely.  After what felt like eternity, he was finally finished applying the spray.  “Hold your arm out.  Make it as level and steady as you can,” Tech instructed.  Fingertips barely brushing your skin, he brought the clean cloth around, wrap after wrap, from your palm to your elbow.  He took some smaller bandages and wrapped them around each of your fingers, leaving your entire arm covered.

You lifted up your other arm, and you both repeated the process.  Bacta, wrap, done.  He gestured at your legs, silently asking to both take off your shoes and life up your pants, to at least the knee.  There was a much larger and deeper gash on your left shin, courtesy of a falling metal plate as you finally managed to get some sleep.  “That…will need stitches.  Wait here.”  Not like you were going anywhere.

After what felt like hours upon hours, everything that was physically wrong with you had been fixed- or, at the very least, temporarily fixed.  Obviously, there weren't the best medical supplies on a smaller ship that had long left the army, and thus left behind the blessing that was gift-wrapped med-kits.  Finally, he gave you some type of liquid- not a lot, just a shot.  He could see the quizzical look on your face, and quickly explained– “It’ll help you go to sleep, for quite a while, and it’ll help reduce the pain.  By the time you wake up, we should be at Orl Mantell, where we’ve been staying.  Or, at least, close to it.”

You were in the cockpit, as was Tech. He was hunched on the ship’s floor, soldering a piece of equipment he had ripped from underneath the main console.

His jaw was set tight, fingers working quickly and expertly, his eyes set in intense concentration.

You swallowed, a familiar spark igniting in your loins, thinking of what those fingers could do, how you wanted that intense, yellow-tinted gaze on you, your lips on that incredibly alluring jawline…

“Do you need assistance with something?” Tech questioned without looking toward you, continuing his work.

“No…just enjoying the view.” You remarked as you schooched next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. You were also on the floor, trying to sort a pile of wires that was untouched.

“Can you hand me the servodriver since you are just “enjoying the view” and not assisting me like you told the others?” Tech adjusted his goggles, glancing at you momentarily before going back to his tinkering.

You chuckled, remembering Hunter’s look when you said Tech needed your help and you should stay behind.

Hunter knew that wasn’t true, but gathered Omega, Echo, and Wrecker to go to the junkyard, knowing you wanted privacy.

“Sure...only if you kiss me.” You leaned into him more, the aroma of hot metal mixing with his natural musk flaming the fire inside you even more.

Tech stopped, placing his soldering equipment down, looking fully at you.

“I presume your proximity to me and the promiscuous tone in your voice means you will not be handing me the servodriver, correct?”

“That’s right.” You smiled, brushing your hand across his cheek.

Tech adjusted his goggles. “I also infer you stayed behind, not because you wanted to aid me, but to be alone with me. Is that also correct?” You bit your bottom lip, nodding.

“Ah. What would you like to do?”

You took one of Tech’s hands in your own.

“Well, I was thinking I could actually give you a hand if you’d let me.” You raised your eyebrows, seeing if he’d catch your meaning.

You could see Tech’s cheeks darken slightly as he cleared his throat. “Oh, I see.”

You leaned in, your nose brushing against his as you moved your other hand up his thigh.

You could hear Tech’s breath hitch, his own hands coming to your shoulders as your lips met.

“It’ll be a while before they get back. And besides, you look like you need a break.” You muttered against his lips, giving his upper thigh a hearty squeeze as you grazed your hand over his crotch.

Tech gripped your shoulders and let out a low groan as he leaned toward you, kissing you back, his body relaxing as your mouths moved together.

“Just lay back and let me take care of you.” You whispered as you pulled away momentarily, seeing a quick flash of hunger pass over his brown eyes. “We have time before the others get back.”

Your hands roamed up and under his shirt, watching Tech begin to calculate behind his goggles as you tried to tug his shirt off.

“Taking into consideration the travel time to and from the junkyard, and how quickly they may be able to find the parts, we more than likely have an hour before they return. So I suppose you can…assist me.”

You grinned mischievously, crawling on top of Tech’s lap, his shirt halfway up his torso, him still calculating how much time you might have alone.

“Sounds like plenty of time, don’t you think?” You asked before taking his lips on yours again, and Tech finally helped you get his shirt off.

Your hands roamed his lean form, and you could feel his muscles flex under your gentle touch.

You pressed down into his lap, feeling him harden beneath you.

Tech’s hands were now skirting under your shirt, touching all the places he knew elicited a response from you.

He had every inch of your body mapped and memorized, knowing exactly where and when to touch you to get the best response.

You hummed in contentment against his lips, those expert fingers working their magic as he caressed your skin.

You released his lips from yours, yanking off your shirt and going straight back to an impassioned make-out session.

You began kissing down his chin and nibbled on his jawline as Tech pushed his goggles back into place.

You worked to undo his pants, making quick work of his many straps and pockets, tossing them to the side with a thud as you slipped a hand under his waistband. You carefully ran your fingers up his now hard length, relishing how he felt.

This situation was one of few where Tech was speechless, a shaky sigh from him the only sound he could emit.

Tech grunted while you teased the head of his cock with your fingers, eyes wide under his goggles as he stared down at your careful ministrations.

You loved how he felt under your fingertips, his velvety head already wet with precum. You used your thumb to slowly spread it around, and you could feel Tech tremble against you, his quiet sounds of pleasure catching in his throat.

“Hold on.” You said, quickly jumping up off his lap and running to your bunk, digging through a small drawer. You grabbed the bottle of lube that Tech loved to use on you, but this time it was all for him.

You squirted a generous amount on your hand and hurried back to where he was eagerly waiting, now sitting in the pilot’s seat. You stepped up to him as he tugged his pants further down his thighs.

“Easier access and more comfortable for the both of us.” He stated as you sat back on his lap, Tech’s rigid cock pressed against his belly.

You reached down between the two of you, gently sliding your hand up and down his length, a hiss of approval escaping through Tech’s clenched jaw, his eyelids fluttering at your touch.

You squeezed and twisted your fist in a languid rhythm, also knowing just how he liked it.

Tech grabbed at your waist, his head leaning back against the headrest as you worked his cock with your hand.

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but a low groan came out instead as you squeezed him a little harder.

You watched his chest heave faster, his other hand digging in to the armrest as his brow furrowed, concentrating and focusing on how you were making him feel.

“F-faster.” Tech urged, sweat beading on his brow, his breath labored.

You obliged, increasing the pace of your fist around his cock, loving how you could feel every ridge and vein slide across your palm as Tech came apart in front of you.

Tech suddenly grasped the back of your head, bringing you to his lips, his mouth hot and desperate on yours as you worked him.

“Close…” was all Tech was able to utter, his pleasured moans becoming louder and more frequent.

You couldn’t help but let out a blissful sigh, seeing how much pleasure you were bringing him as your other hand reached down to tenderly squeeze and cup his balls.

Tech twitched and bucked against you, his head falling back again to the headrest, cursing under his breath.

“Cyare…I won’t…last much longer.” Tech warned, his goggles now sliding down the bridge of his nose.

With a final twist of your wrist, Tech let out a long groan of your name, his pearly release coating his lower abdomen and chest.

You eased him through his orgasm, feeling his cock twitch and throb under your palm, milking him of every drop, drunk on the sight of him fully undone just by your hand.

You stroked him a few more times, rubbing your thumb over his sensitive head as Tech tried to compose himself, pushing his goggles up with his hand, steadying his breathing.

“That was…satisfactory. Thank you.” He leaned forward, kissing you sweetly in thanks.

“I hope it was more than just satisfactory.” You teased as you hopped off him, grabbing a clean towel from your bunk.

A small smirk tugged at the side of his mouth. “It was, very much so.”

You leaned over him, gently cleaning him up as he softly ran his hand down your face.

“Thank you, cyare.” Tech tugged his pants back up and you sat on his lap again, leaning onto him as he held you. You felt his hands wander, his fingers now slipping under your waistband.

“Based on my calculations, we still have plenty of time for me to return the favor.”

Tech’s words were husky in your ear as you smiled into his neck, shivering at his touch. “It’s my turn to enjoy the view, hmm? Now…where did you put that lube?”

A/N: Am I sorry for continuously posting smut and having a great time writing these? No. 😅

The sound of the bell rang through the room, indicating that someone had entered the shop. Wiping the grease off your hands, you made your way from the back room to greet the customer, plastering on the courtesy smile your mother had taught you.

“Can I help you find anything?” you asked as you came up to the counter.

A tall man wearing goggles was browsing through a shelf of spare parts, picking one up to examine it closer. He turned his head slightly at your question, brown eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

“I am certain that I can find what I am looking for on my own. There is no need for your assistance,” he said before looking back to the piece in his hands.

“Noted,” you said in response. 

He appeared to know what he was looking for, so you left him alone. Unfortunately, you couldn’t return to what you had been doing previously until he left. Pulling a stool up to the counter, you sat down to wait for him to finish perusing. 

After a few minutes you heard him sigh in frustration. He turned his attention back to you and walked over to the counter. There was a loud clunk as he placed a part down in front of you. It was very obviously broken and was showing serious signs of wear.

“I was hoping that you would have something to substitute for this, but was unable to find a suitable replacement.”

You picked up the part, turning it over in your hands as you looked at it. You had a hard time deciphering what the part even was, and the grime and general wear made the process more difficult. 

“What is this?” you asked. 

“It is a part of the life support system aboard my ship. Normally, I am able to fix things on my own, but I cannot undo wear and tear. Do you have something I could use as a replacement?”

Now that he had told you what the part had been at the start, you were able to see the similarities to something you had pulled off a junked ship months ago.

“Nothing new, but I might have something,” you said, standing from your stool. “Come with me.”

You led him over to a shelf near the back of the shop where you kept miscellaneous parts from the ships you and your siblings had scrapped. After a few moments of scanning, you found the part you were searching for and pulled it down before handing it to him.

“Will this do?”

He turned the part over in his hands, thoroughly examining it. 

“This will do nicely. I may need to do a few tweaks on the ship itself, but this will work to replace the missing part.”

He looked up to meet your eyes, a small smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. The sight made your own lips curl up into a genuine smile in return, abandoning the mask of courtesy you had put on in the beginning.

The moment was interrupted by a beep at his wrist, which startled you slightly. He pressed a button and you heard a deep husky voice ask if he was almost done with his errand. Not wanting to be rude and eavesdrop, you made your way back to the counter to wait for him again. 

When he had finished his conversation, he came back to the counter with the part you had found for him and some solutions used for cleaning a variety of parts. He placed them all down on the counter. When you had finished ringing everything up and told him the total, you watched his shoulders slump slightly. His hand rested on the part before he pushed the rest of the stuff aside.

“How much for just the part?” he asked.

When you told him, he let out a heavy sigh. You could sense that the number was still too high. You wished you could do something to help him, but the shop didn’t belong to you, it belonged to your older brother. You didn’t have the power to give him any kind of discount.

“I can hold onto it for you,” you suggested. “Put it aside until you can come back with the credits.”

“That would be much appreciated,” he said. “Hopefully, it won’t be too long.”

He moved to grab the supplies he had brought to the counter, but you stopped him.

“I can put those away, don’t worry.”

With a tilt of his head and a quiet thanks, he turned and left the shop, the door chime sounding as he exited. You picked up the part he had left behind and placed in a box to save it for his return. As you went to label it before putting it away, you realized something.

He had never told you his name.

Over a week later, you found yourself in a similar situation. Working in the back of the shop, before the sound of a bell interrupted your activity. This time, however, when you went to greet the customer, you found two people in the shop. A man with a gaunt face and very pale skin stood near the counter. He was looking down and talking to someone. Just over the edge of the counter, you could see the top of a blonde head.

“Can I help you?” you asked, approaching the counter.

The man looked up at the sound of your voice and the blonde hair rose a few inches to reveal a pair of brown eyes beneath as the young child beside him stood on their toes to look over the edge of the counter.

“Our brother was in here about a week ago and he said that you had put aside a part for him,” the child, who you had noticed was a young girl, said in an accent you were unfamiliar with.

“Your brother?”

The man beside her lifted his right arm, which ended in a scomp, to a few inches above his head.

“About this tall, goggles, terrible posture.”

“Ah yes, my mystery customer. I do have the part he needed stored away in the back. Let me go get it.”

You left the pair standing at the counter to retrieve the part before returning and setting it down. You repeated the price you had given to your original customer and the man handed over the credits. As the two of them left your store, you could hear the young girl chattering on about Mantell mix and asking if they could stop to get some, a request her brother denied.

“You eat way too much of that stuff,” was the last thing you heard before the door closed behind them.

You smiled to yourself at his comment, knowing how easy it was to get hooked on the treat, especially when you were a child. You wondered if this strange family lived on Ord Mantell or if they were just visiting. Maybe you would get the chance to see your mystery customer again.

The next time you came across a member of the family, it was a much larger man. You only knew about the connection because of the presence of the young blonde girl with him. The two of them had bumped into you in the market, their attention on the boxes of brightly colored snack food in their hands rather than where they were going.

“Oops, sorry about that!” the large man said, righting the container in his hands to prevent the treat from falling on the ground. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Hey, I know you!” the young girl said, pointing up at you. “You’re the guy that we got the part from.”

“Indeed I am. Did it work for what your brother needed it for?”

The young girl shrugged.

“I don’t know exactly. Tech says a lot of things that I don’t understand, especially when it comes to the ship. I’ve been trying to learn, but it’s a lot of information.”

Tech. So that’s his name.

“Well, I hope it did its job and he was able to fix everything up. Tell him to come by the shop again if he needs anything.”

“Okay!”

“C’mon Omega, Hunter’s waiting for us,” the large man said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

The young girl, whom you assumed was Omega, waved at you before walking off with the man.

Omega. Tech. Hunter.

They weren’t the most common of names, but Ord Mantell was full of a variety of people from different backgrounds. A varied group of brothers with a young sister was just another addition to the colorful population, no matter what their names were.

Tech seemed to take your offer seriously when you said he could stop by the shop whenever he needed something. In the past 3 weeks, you had seen him 5 times. He had only actually purchased something one of those times, all the rest of his visits seemed to be for him to ask your advice.

While you weren’t the most experienced mechanic, you had seen some tough situations and found workable solutions. Tech seemed to be a fan of non-standard fixes, which you guessed stemmed partially from a lack of funds. The rest seemed to be because he enjoyed finding out how things worked and adapting to various circumstances.

Today was his 6th visit, and he plunked a bag down on your counter before you could get out your customary greeting. You examined the bag cautiously before emptying the contents onto your counter. It contained a variety of parts that you knew were uncommon, at least uncommon to scrappers and small mechanic shops.

“I thought that you could clean these up and sell them in your shop,” Tech said. “I have no use for them myself, but they no doubt hold value to someone in your position.”

“Thank you, Tech. This means a lot to me,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “What do I owe you?”

Tech waved his hand dismissively, his attention already shifting to something on the shelf next to the counter. He picked up the box displayed there and placed it next to the pile of parts. It was a box of small tools. They had been yours as a child, specially sized for your small hands. 

“Could I take these off your hands in return?” he asked. “I think Omega could get good use out of these when she helps me work on things.”

You had been trying to sell the tools for a few years now with no success. Your brother had told you to just toss them, saying that no one would ever buy them, but you had held onto them just in case. You thought about the young girl and how she had told you she was trying to learn how to fix things herself. The excitement and determination in her eyes brought back memories of your own childhood back to your mind. 

“I think that would be a reasonable trade,” you said. “I hope she can use them and learn many things from you.”

“That is the goal,” Tech said, grabbing the handle of the box and lifting it off the counter again. “I’ve been trying to teach her the ins and outs of our ship and how to fix it. It’s a slow process, but she is learning.”

“You’re a good brother, Tech. All of you are. Taking care of her and making sure she can learn things to help her in life. She couldn’t ask for a better group to watch over her.” 

Tech’s expression shifted into one of contemplation and you could see that there was some lingering doubt in his eyes. He seemed to not agree with your observation, but you didn’t care. It didn’t change how you felt.

“Thanks for the parts, I’m sure they will be useful for someone in the future,” you said, trying to move the conversation onto a different topic. “Is there anything else you need while you’re here?”

“I wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate,” Tech said, fiddling with something on his wrist.

“Oh?”

“I believe it is customary that when you enjoy spending time with someone and you would like to take a step towards strengthening your relationship, you invite them to go to dinner with you.”

You stared at the man before you, blinking in disbelief. 

“Tech, are you saying that you want to go on a date?”

“With you, yes.”

You felt your mouth open slightly as your jaw dropped in surprise. While you had thought Tech was handsome since the first time he walked into the shop and you enjoyed his visits, you had never expected things to go in this direction.

“If that idea is not appealing to you, I understand,” Tech said, avoiding meeting your gaze.

“No! I’m sorry, I was just surprised, that’s all!”

You saw him perk up at your response and his gaze returned to you. 

“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you said, giving him a warm smile. “Just name the time and place and I’ll be there!”

Tech returned your smile and opened his mouth to say something else before a loud voice sounded from his wrist, interrupting whatever he was going to say.

“Told ya he could do it!”

You covered your mouth with your hand to hide the laugh at Wrecker’s outburst, not wanting Tech to be embarrassed more than he probably already was. He seemed to have accidentally pushed something on his comm device that allowed his brother to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Yes, thank you for your confidence, Wrecker,” Tech said into his comm before switching it off and giving you an embarrassed glance. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice your brothers are supportive.”

Tech rolled his eyes in response which made you laugh again, but this time you didn’t hide it. You had noticed in your interactions that he cared about his siblings greatly, even if they annoyed him sometimes. 

“When you know what the plan is, just let me know,” you said. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

You could swear you saw the tips of his ears darken slightly, but he didn’t seem flustered. He gave you another small smile and with a promise to be in contact, left the shop. You could only imagine the teasing he was going to be the victim of when he returned to his family, and you felt a surge of pity for the poor man.

A few minutes passed before the shop door opened again, Tech returning through the doorway. You looked at him with a puzzled expression at his sudden return. You hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

“I suppose it would work better if I actually got your contact information before leaving. Hard to call you without it.”

“A little bit, yeah.”