⸻
“Tech, you’re smarter than you look,” you said, fingers flying across the datapad as you recalibrated the long-range scanner’s neural relays.
Tech didn’t even glance up. “Is that a compliment for my intelligence or an insult for my appearance?”
You smirked, biting the inside of your cheek. “Maybe both. You’ll never know.”
That got him. He looked at you over the rim of his goggles, blinking once. “You are remarkably cryptic for someone so precise in data analysis.”
“And you’re remarkably dense for someone with a photographic memory.”
He opened his mouth—no doubt to deliver a factually loaded rebuttal—but Omega’s groan from the doorway cut him off.
“Ugh, will you two just kiss already?”
Wrecker let out a bark of laughter from the other side of the room. “They’re both so smart and yet so stupid. It’s kinda impressive, honestly.”
Hunter passed by without even looking up from his weapon check. “I give it three more arguments before one of them short-circuits.”
Echo, lounging at the gunner’s console, rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen better communication from malfunctioning droids.”
You turned bright red. “We’re not—! I mean, it’s not like that.”
Tech, completely deadpan: “I fail to see the logic in a kiss solving anything.”
“Oh my stars,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’d think two geniuses wouldn’t be so emotionally… constipated.”
Omega laughed as she flopped into a chair. “Is that what it’s called?”
“Yes,” you said, shooting Tech a sidelong glance. “He’s got a whole datacard full of tactical strategy, but apparently no folder for feelings.”
“I have folders,” Tech protested, indignant. “I just haven’t… opened them.”
You crossed your arms and leaned back in your seat. “Well, maybe you should. Before I go flirt with Echo just to see if he can keep up.”
Tech’s goggles glinted as he straightened, spine stiff. “That would be inefficient. Echo’s humor is marginally less compatible with yours. Statistically, I am the superior match.”
The room went dead silent.
Even Hunter looked up.
“…What?” Tech asked, genuinely confused. “Was that not the correct response?”
You blinked, lips parting, but nothing came out at first. Finally, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table.
“Tech,” you said slowly. “Are you… trying to court me via statistics?”
“Well, that is the language I am most fluent in,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I have also calculated the probability of your reciprocal affection to be relatively high, based on prolonged eye contact, increased heart rate during proximity, and your tendency to brush your hair back when speaking to me.”
Your face went completely warm. “You noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you,” he said plainly. “I simply haven’t known what to do with the information.”
Your heart stuttered—because for all his clinical language, there was vulnerability behind it. Soft. Honest. Tech didn’t lie. He just struggled to feel out loud.
You offered a small smile. “You don’t have to do anything… except meet me halfway.”
He tilted his head. “Can you define halfway in this context?”
You stood up, stepped in front of him, and placed your hand gently on the side of his face—just enough pressure for his breath to catch. He froze like a statue.
“This,” you whispered, “is halfway.”
“Oh,” Tech said softly, eyes wide behind his goggles. “I see.”
And then—slowly, cautiously, with all the finesse of a man defusing a bomb—he leaned forward and kissed you.
Echo let out a low whistle. Wrecker whooped. Omega cheered.
Hunter smirked to himself. “About time.”
When you pulled back, Tech looked dazed. Awestruck.
You grinned and nudged his shoulder. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Tech adjusted his goggles. “I must say… I found it remarkably agreeable.”
“You’re so weird,” you whispered, grinning.
He smiled back. “Yes. But apparently, I am your kind of weird.”
⸻
Hi! I don’t know if you’re doing requests, if not ignore this. I love your writing! My request would be bad batch x Jedi!reader( can be gen) where it’s their reaction to you having to save them and do a bunch of cool badass force moves to get to them. 🩷
Absolutely— I will gladly take any request x
I hope you enjoy this, I kinda went off on my own little world at the end.
⸻
Bad batch x Jedi!Reader
The op was supposed to be simple: get in, grab the intel, get out.
So naturally, it was a disaster by hour two.
The Bad Batch was cornered inside a decrepit refinery complex, hunkered behind a wall of overturned crates as blaster fire lit up the air. Explosions cracked the walls. Wrecker was bleeding. Tech’s datapad was sparking. Crosshair was out of ammo.
Hunter muttered a curse. “We need backup. Now.”
Crosshair scoffed. “You mean the Jedi?”
“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Tech said, wincing as he adjusted his shattered goggles. “They are highly efficient warriors, after all.”
“Well, ours is late,” Echo gritted, shielding Wrecker with a dented durasteel panel. “And I don’t think those guys outside are going to politely wait for her.”
Then, like the Force heard them bickering—
The air dropped a few degrees.
The wind shifted.
And then the main door of the facility exploded inward—not from detonite or a charge, but like something had pushed it in with terrifying, silent power.
Smoke billowed.
And out of it stepped you.
Cloak trailing behind you, lightsaber already humming in your hand, you walked into the chaos like you were late to a dinner party—not a battlefield.
“Sorry I’m late,” you said, lifting your hand.
Three enemy droids shot into the air like ragdolls, slammed into a pipe overhead, and sparked out. “Had a bit of traffic.”
Wrecker blinked. “That… was awesome.”
Hunter stared as you leapt forward, deflecting blaster bolts without looking. “Remind me never to complain about Jedi again.”
You moved like a shadow. One second you were blocking a shot, the next you were throwing your saber, calling it back mid-spin, flipping off a wall, and dragging a pair of guards toward each other with the Force so they knocked heads and dropped.
“Show off,” Crosshair muttered, but there was something weirdly close to admiration in his tone.
“Excuse me?” you called as you force-pulled a turret off its base and crushed it into a ball. “You want to do this next time, sharpshooter?”
“I mean… I wouldn’t mind the view,” Crosshair said under his breath.
Tech, oddly calm amid the chaos, adjusted his goggles with a broken-off screw. “Fascinating. You manipulated five separate Force events within a span of—”
“I’ll send you a diagram later!” you called.
You sliced the control panel, opened the bulkhead, and gestured. “Come on, boys. I’m not babysitting this op all day.”
Hunter helped Wrecker to his feet. “That was… intense.”
Echo gave you a half-grin. “We’d be dead if you hadn’t shown.”
“You would be,” you said smugly. “Good thing I like you.”
“Is that a Jedi flirting?” Crosshair drawled. “Should I be worried about a lightsaber through my chest or a date?”
You raised a brow. “Depends. Are you always this cocky, or is it the blood loss talking?”
Crosshair smirked. “You tell me.”
As the team jogged after you, Tech whispered to Echo, “I believe this is what organic beings refer to as ‘tension.’”
“You think?” Echo grinned, ducking blaster fire as you launched an enemy into a vat of molten ore with a flick of your hand.
“Let’s save the flirty quips for after we’re not being shot at,” Hunter grumbled—but he wasn’t exactly not smiling.
You stopped mid-run, looked over your shoulder, and grinned. “Then pick up the pace, boys. You can flirt after we survive.”
⸻
The air inside the safehouse was still hazy from Wrecker’s attempt at cooking, and someone had definitely patched Crosshair’s blaster wound with duct tape and attitude.
But everyone was alive. And that was saying something.
You were seated cross-legged on a crate, calmly cleaning your lightsaber with the kind of peace only someone who had deflected about 200 blaster bolts could muster. The Force hummed around you, quiet but alert.
Hunter dropped onto the floor nearby, arms resting on his knees. “You always fight like that?”
You looked up, raising a brow. “Like what?”
“Like gravity doesn’t apply to you and you’re mad at every object in a ten-meter radius.”
You grinned. “Only when people I care about are in trouble.”
Crosshair, lounging against the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed. “So, you do care.”
“Don’t get excited,” you teased. “I’d do the same for my hydrospanner.”
Wrecker burst out laughing while Crosshair smirked like he’d just been promoted.
Echo, who was calmly running diagnostics on his arm, chimed in: “I don’t know. I think you’ve got favorites.”
You shrugged. “Maybe.”
Tech looked up from where he was scanning his datapad, eyes sharp behind his cracked goggles. “You know, from a technical standpoint, some of your techniques—particularly the telekinetic manipulation mid-flight—could be extremely beneficial in combat.”
You tilted your head. “Are you saying you want to train with me, Tech?”
He cleared his throat. “For research purposes, of course.”
Echo leaned back against a support beam. “I wouldn’t mind a session or two either. Might pick up a move or two that doesn’t involve being thrown across a battlefield.”
“I think I should go first,” Hunter said mildly. “Since I’m the one who has to keep all of you alive.”
Wrecker raised a hand. “Hey, I want to train with the Jedi too!”
You looked around at all of them. “Let me guess… you all want to train now?”
“Better than watching Crosshair try to flirt,” Echo muttered.
“I don’t flirt,” Crosshair said flatly.
“You stared at their hands for five minutes straight,” Hunter pointed out.
Crosshair didn’t deny it. “They’ve got good saber grip. It’s tactical.”
You smirked and slowly stood, clipping your saber back to your belt. “Alright. We’ll start tomorrow. One at a time. You’ll get a feel for the Force, and I’ll see who whines the least when they land flat on their back.”
“I never whine,” Crosshair muttered.
“Good,” you said with a wicked grin. “You’ll be first.”
Wrecker fist-pumped. Tech adjusted his datapad like it was a test. Echo and Hunter shared a look that said, We’re all going to die.
You stretched your arms and turned to leave.
“Oh,” you added over your shoulder. “And if you’re all so eager to get closer to the Force… don’t forget it can read minds.”
Five men froze. Completely.
You didn’t have to look to know exactly which ones had immediately panicked.
Yeah. You were going to have fun with this.
⸻
You stood in the middle of the field, arms crossed, calm as ever.
The Bad Batch lined up in front of you like misbehaving cadets at a very weird summer camp. Wrecker was bouncing on his heels. Crosshair looked bored already. Echo was trying to focus. Tech was holding a notebook. And Hunter—Hunter was watching you like he was trying to anticipate your every move. Again.
“Alright,” you said, voice light. “Rule number one: you are not Force-sensitive. So stop trying to feel it. You’ll just give yourself a migraine.”
Tech quietly lowered his fingers from his temple and put his notebook away.
“Instead,” you continued, pacing in front of them like an instructor, “we’re going to focus on reflexes, awareness, and how not to swing a lightsaber into your own leg.”
Wrecker raised his hand. “Wait—do we get lightsabers?”
You blinked. “Do you want to lose an arm?”
Wrecker grinned. “Kinda depends on the story I can tell after.”
Echo muttered, “Maker help us.”
You tossed a training baton at Crosshair, who caught it one-handed with zero enthusiasm.
“Let’s see how you handle this, sharpshooter,” you said, smirking. “Try to block me.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a magic trick to win a duel.”
You raised your training blade. “That’s cute. Try to last thirty seconds.”
What followed was the most stubborn, cocky, and utterly chaotic sparring session you had ever experienced.
Crosshair lasted eighteen seconds. He blamed the sun.
Hunter was fast, perceptive, and nearly knocked you off your feet once, but then got distracted when you smiled at him. He never admitted it.
Echo was calculated but got annoyed when you used a Force push to trip him mid-roll. “Not fair,” he growled, flat on his back.
“I told you I’d use it,” you shrugged.
Tech kept trying to guess your next move based on logic. Unfortunately, you were using the Force. And chaos.
“I have a theory,” he said, face-down in the grass.
“I’m sure you do.”
Then came Wrecker.
“Alright,” he said, grinning like a kid about to break a toy, “gimme your best shot.”
You dodged his first three swings. The fourth came very close.
“Easy, big guy,” you huffed, ducking under his arm. “This is training, not deathmatch—”
“Oops!” Wrecker slipped on a rock, stumbled forward, and you had to Force-jump to avoid being pancaked. You landed behind him, breathing hard.
“That was… impressive,” you managed.
“Did I pass?” he asked, hopeful.
“Pass? You almost Force-chucked me into next week!”
“Cool.”
Later, as the group collapsed in a sweaty, bruised heap under a tree, you sat cross-legged nearby, sipping from a canteen.
“I’ll admit,” you said with a sly grin, “you’re all… slightly less hopeless than I expected.”
“High praise,” Echo muttered.
Crosshair lay back, arms behind his head. “So when’s the advanced class?”
You tossed a pebble at his head. “Never.”
Tech looked up from scribbling notes. “I would still like to record your movement patterns. Possibly… for private analysis.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Private?”
Hunter cleared his throat, cutting in fast. “I’d be up for a meditation session. Just us.”
You blinked. “You meditate?”
“I do now.”
Wrecker sat up. “Wait, I want to meditate too!”
“No, you don’t,” Echo sighed.
You lay back in the grass beside them, arms tucked under your head, eyes half-closed. “You know… for a bunch of non-sensitive, chaos-wielding commandos… you’re not so bad.”
Crosshair, eyes closed, smirked. “Careful, Jedi. Keep talking like that, and we might start thinking you like us.”
You smirked back. “I do like you. I just like kicking your asses more.”
Summary: Clone Wars-era op with the Bad Batch. Jedi reader + Quinlan Vos bestie assisting the op.
⸻
If Tech had known he’d be spending the mission with two unorthodox Jedi, he might have requested recalibration for his brain implant.
Vos was already a variable he’d accounted for—reckless, talented, infuriatingly good, unpredictable. But you?
You were something else entirely.
You strolled off the gunship like the war was a camping trip, a lightsaber strapped to your hip and a ridiculous grin on your face as you greeted Wrecker with a high five mid-jump.
“Miss me, big guy?”
Wrecker beamed. “You always make it more fun!”
Vos followed close behind, flipping a thermal detonator in one hand like it was a toy. “They let you off Coruscant without me? I’m hurt.”
You glanced over your shoulder. “Please. You’d just get jealous when I steal all the glory.”
Vos grinned. “You wish.”
Tech stared. “I fail to see how this level of casualness is appropriate for a battlefield.”
You turned to him with a slow smile. “Ah, you must be Tech.”
He straightened instinctively. “Yes. You are correct.”
You offered a hand—not stiff or formal, but open, easy. There was mischief in your eyes. “I’ve read your file. You’re the one with the brains and the dry commentary.”
He hesitated before taking your hand. “That is… not inaccurate.”
You leaned in, voice low. “I like brains.”
He blinked. “As do most species. It is vital for survival.”
Vos coughed loudly behind you—possibly to hide a laugh.
Wrecker elbowed Hunter. “I like this Jedi.”
Tech ignored them, adjusting his goggles. “We are operating on a strict schedule. I’d prefer we keep distractions—”
“Lighten up, Tech,” you teased, falling into step beside him. “If you smiled any less, we’d have to start checking for signs of carbon freezing.”
“I assure you, I am functioning within optimal emotional parameters.”
You hummed thoughtfully. “Sounds lonely.”
He shot you a side glance, but your tone was playful, not unkind.
“I don’t understand you,” he muttered.
You grinned. “Most don’t. That’s half the fun.”
⸻
Later, during recon, Vos and Wrecker were off chasing a “weird energy reading,” Crosshair was perched up somewhere, and Hunter had gone ahead to secure the route. That left you and Tech crouched behind cover, scanning a Separatist outpost through the macrobinoculars.
“Y’know,” you said casually, “if you ever wanted to break all your rules and do something reckless, I’m very available.”
Tech frowned. “I don’t require your availability. This mission is already well underway.”
You stifled a laugh. “Not what I meant.”
He blinked, confused. “Was it a code? I didn’t detect one.”
You turned to him, resting your chin on your hand. “You’re cute when you’re confused.”
His ears turned slightly pink.
“I’m not confused,” he replied quickly. “Merely… recalibrating.”
You laughed again, soft and warm. “You’re fun, Tech. Even if you don’t know it.”
He didn’t reply. Just stared out at the outpost, glasses slightly fogged. Processing. Buffering.
You winked as you stood. “Come on, Brain Boy. Let’s go break some droids.”
And behind you, Tech mumbled—
“…I don’t understand you.”
But oh, he wanted to.
⸻
“Move your pretty brain, Tech!”
Your shout cut through the blaster fire as you Force-shoved a B1 battle droid clean off the ridge. The droid hit the canyon wall with a clang before falling into a satisfying silence.
Tech barely managed to duck behind the rock as two more shots ricocheted past his goggles.
“I’m attempting to calculate the terrain advantages, not—”
You dropped beside him, lightsaber humming with heat. “Flirt later, calculate less. We’re getting spicy out here.”
“I am not flirting—”
“You will be,” you said sweetly, spinning to deflect a bolt. “Just haven’t hit the right button yet.”
“Force help me,” Crosshair muttered over comms. “I’m in hell.”
Vos cackled somewhere on the ridge. “This is why I bring her on ops.”
You winked in Tech’s direction. “Besides, I like it when smart boys get flustered.”
“I am not—” he started, only to cut himself off when you leapt over the boulder and ran directly into blaster fire.
“Wait—don’t—!”
But you were already slicing through droids, movements chaotic and fluid. A little wild, a little beautiful. Vos followed behind you with a war cry and a detonator.
“Stop being reckless in combat!” Tech snapped, ducking as sparks flew overhead.
Wrecker hollered from behind cover. “She’s so cool, right?!”
Tech was still reeling from how your braid moved like a whip when you spun, when a Super Battle Droid on the ridge zeroed in on his location.
He didn’t see it. But you did.
“Tech!”
You moved fast—a leap, a slide down the gravel slope, and then a blinding crack of energy as you shoved him to the ground and blocked the bolt meant for his chest with your saber.
The shockwave sent you both tumbling behind a ledge.
For a second, there was only the buzz of his ears and the hum of your saber still hot in the air.
You looked down at him—arms braced on either side of his shoulders, breathing hard, body pressed against his.
His goggles were crooked. His heart was absolutely not functioning in optimal parameters.
“You good?” you asked, voice low.
“I…” Tech swallowed. “Yes. Thanks to you.”
You leaned a little closer. “That’s two times I’ve saved your life this week. You might owe me.”
“I… suppose I do.”
You smiled. “We’ll figure out the payment plan later.”
Vos dropped beside you, covered in soot and grinning. “I saw that. That was hot. I’d kiss you for that save.”
“Why are they like this,” the sniper muttered and then glanced over to Tech. “Can’t believe I’m third-wheeling a courtship in the middle of a kriffing warzone.”
“Fourth-wheeling,” Vos corrected. “I’m emotionally invested.”
You grinned as you helped Tech up. “Don’t worry, brain boy. They’re only teasing”
You patted his chest, then turned back toward the canyon, saber blazing back to life.
“We’ll talk later. Right now? Droids first. Feelings… maybe after explosives.”
And then you were off again, a whirlwind of Force and fire.
Tech stood frozen, fingers twitching at his belt.
Vos clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the mess, genius.”
⸻
You were sitting cross-legged on the Marauder’s ramp, tossing pebbles at Wrecker’s helmet while he tried to balance a crate on one hand.
Vos was beside you, chewing on dried fruit like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He elbowed you after a particularly impressive throw.
“You ever gonna tell Tech you’re into him?” Vos asked, mouth half-full.
You smirked. “And ruin the comedy of him trying to math his way through courtship? No thanks.”
Wrecker laughed. “He is actin’ weird lately. Said I was being ‘emotionally invasive’ for askin’ if he liked you!”
Vos grinned. “He’s got it bad.”
“And I am loving it,” you replied, spinning a pebble in your fingers. “Every time I flirt, he acts like I just challenged his understanding of gravity.”
Right on cue, Tech walked down the ramp, datapad clutched in hand, goggles slightly askew. He stopped in front of you, cleared his throat.
“I… performed a series of diagnostics regarding interpersonal compatibility,” he said, utterly serious. “According to twenty-seven factors—including personality, adaptability, combat style, and dietary preferences—we are a statistically promising match.”
Vos dropped his fruit.
You blinked. “Did you just… scientifically determine that we should date?”
“I—well—yes,” Tech said. “But only if you’re interested. Which—based on your heart rate and verbal cues—I suspect you might be.”
Vos exploded into laughter, falling back on the ramp.
“Oh my Maker,” he wheezed. “You absolute nerd.”
You grinned at Tech. “That might be the most romantic math I’ve ever heard.”
Tech pushed his glasses up. “I thought you’d appreciate the data.”
“I do,” you said, standing and brushing your hands off. “But next time, try leading with something like: ‘I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to kiss you.’”
Tech turned crimson. “I—yes. Noted.”
“Relax,” you teased, stepping closer. “I’m not gonna kiss you.”
His expression fell a little.
“Yet,” you added.
From behind the crates, Crosshair exhaled loudly. “Maker, just kiss already or go back to sexually tense banter. This is painful.”
You turned. “Aw, Cross. You jealous you’re not the one I’m throwing pebbles at?”
He scowled. “I’d rather be shot.”
Vos stood and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Honestly, same.”
You nudged him. “You’re just mad you’re not the prettiest Jedi in the room anymore.”
Vos gasped dramatically. “Rude. And false.”
Tech, meanwhile, was still buffering.
“I may need to recalibrate my approach,” he murmured, mostly to himself.
“Or,” you said, tapping his datapad, “you could just ask me to spend time with you. No variables required.”
He paused, then looked up at you, eyes suddenly very soft.
“…Would you like to accompany me on a walk through the canyon ridge at 1900 hours? Statistically, it would be—”
You leaned in, smirking. “Careful, Tech. That almost sounded like a date.”
He adjusted his goggles. “I was… hoping it would be.”
Vos made a gagging noise. Crosshair muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “nerds.”
And you?
You just smiled.
⸻
1900 hours hit, and you were waiting by the canyon overlook, robes loose and windswept, arms crossed like you hadn’t just spent twenty minutes trying to decide if you looked “dateable.”
You sensed him before you saw him—Tech’s unique mental frequency, all angles and tension and humming data flow. He approached precisely on time, goggles slightly askew, holding… a field scanner?
“Is that for scanning terrain,” you asked, grinning, “or just a really dramatic way to say you’re nervous?”
“I—” Tech adjusted his grip. “It is a tool for environmental analysis and—possibly—also distraction.”
You snorted. “So yes.”
The two of you walked along the ridge trail, the orange twilight casting soft shadows on the canyon walls. Silence settled, not uncomfortable, just… charged. Like the pause before a storm—or a kiss.
“So,” you said finally, “have you been practicing your flirting?”
Tech looked over, hesitant. “I did… research.”
“Oh no.”
He cleared his throat. “Your presence activates all of my… neurological functions.”
You blinked. “That… was almost sexy.”
“Almost?”
“You lost me at neurological.”
Tech looked disappointed. You reached over, brushing your fingers over his arm. “Don’t worry, I like the weird.”
“I am attempting,” he said, more softly this time, “to understand how to… express what I feel.”
You tilted your head. “And what do you feel?”
He turned toward you fully now. “I feel that your presence both stabilizes and disorients me. That your actions on the battlefield—reckless though they are—captivate me. That your voice lingers in my thoughts long after transmission ends. And that when you saved my life… I was afraid, not of death, but of losing the chance to tell you any of this.”
Your breath caught.
“…Tech,” you said, gently.
“I am aware,” he rushed to add, “that emotions are complex, and Jedi traditionally—”
You stepped forward and kissed him.
It wasn’t long or intense, just a warm press of lips. Steady. Sure.
When you pulled back, his goggles were fogged.
“Shutting up works too,” you whispered.
From somewhere nearby, a stick snapped.
You both turned just in time to hear Vos swear and fall directly out of a bush.
“I WASN’T SPYING,” he yelled.
“Maker above—” Tech muttered.
Crosshair’s voice crackled over the comm: “I told him you’d hear his dumbass breathing.”
Wrecker’s voice came next: “I think it’s sweet! Tech’s got a girlfriend!”
Vos was on his feet, brushing himself off. “Sorry—carry on. Proud of you, Tech. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
You groaned. “I am going to murder all of you.”
Tech looked dazed.
“Can we… do that again?” he asked quietly.
You smiled, tugging him close. “Yeah. This time with less audience.”
The Senate was silent—eerily so. Your voice echoed as you stood center-stage, the holocams rolling, senators holding their breath.
You stared up at the massive screen where Palpatine’s hologram flickered with dispassionate cruelty.
“You may rule through fear, Emperor. You may bend systems, strip rights, and silence voices. But the power you believe you wield is nothing more than mere arrogance, left unchecked for far too long. And every tyrant who’s mistaken fear for loyalty has eventually learned the same truth: fear fades. Resistance doesn’t.”
Gasps rippled through the chamber. One senator spilled their drink. Another ducked behind their chair like you’d just tossed a thermal detonator.
The Emperor said nothing. Just smiled.
You finished your speech, spine straight as a durasteel blade. And when you left the chamber, you knew your days were numbered.
~~~~~~
Stormtroopers swarmed the upper districts now. Rumors had spread fast. A senator going rogue? Publicly? That kind of dissent couldn’t go unpunished.
So you went to the one person you hoped still remembered how to keep people off the radar: Cid.
She responded with a single message:
“You’re lucky I owe you. Got a crew incoming. Don’t get dead before they get there.”
~~~~~~
Blasterfire lit up the alley as a squad of troopers chased you through the lower levels. One shot narrowly missed your shoulder as you turned a corner, lungs burning. You weren’t trained for this. Your boots slipped on the slick metal flooring—and you stumbled, crashing against a wall.
A trooper raised his blaster, finger tightening on the trigger—
Then a blue bolt slammed into his helmet.
You blinked. He crumpled. And standing just behind him, face tight with focus and eyes locked on you, was Echo.
“Senator,” he said calmly, extending his arm, “Time to go.”
You grabbed his hand, letting him haul you up.
“Am I glad to see you,” you breathed.
“I know,” he said, smirking slightly. “You’re welcome.”
More troopers rounded the corner, and Echo pulled you behind cover, activating his comm.
“Now would be a great time, Hunter.”
“Exit’s two blocks south. Wrecker’s waiting with the ship. Move fast.”
“Copy that.” Echo glanced at you. “Can you run?”
“I’m a senator, not a senator’s aide,” you snapped, brushing off your robes. “I’ll manage.”
“Then keep up.”
~~~~~~
Wrecker was waving them in, Omega already at the ship’s edge, hair windblown and face alight with curiosity.
“Is that her?” she asked loudly. “The senator who told the Emperor off to his face?”
“Yep,” Tech said, not looking up from his datapad. “I analyzed her speech. Statistically, she’s either incredibly brave or terminally reckless.”
“Those are not mutually exclusive,” Echo muttered.
You darted up the ramp beside him, chest heaving.
Omega grinned. “You’ve got guts.”
You gave her a breathless smile. “And you’ve got a very large clone glaring at me. Should I be worried?”
Wrecker beamed. “That’s my welcome face!”
Hunter approached, giving you a once-over. “You’re lucky Echo was close. Another second and you’d be space dust.”
You turned to Echo, heartbeat still thundering. “You saved my life.”
“Let’s make a habit of not needing that,” he replied, voice softer now. “But… yeah. I did.”
The ship lifted, and you finally allowed yourself to sink into the bench beside him, the weight of your speech, your betrayal of the Empire, and the sudden turn your life had taken crashing down on you.
“You’re not safe anymore,” Echo said after a beat. “They’ll hunt you.”
You met his gaze. “Then I’m in the right company, aren’t I?”
He nodded, his hand resting lightly on yours for a moment longer than necessary.
From across the ship, Omega whispered loudly to Wrecker: “Told you they’d be into each other.”
Wrecker: “Do I owe you credits again?!”
~~~~~~
The Marauder rumbled to a halt just outside Cid’s bar. It still smelled like sweat, spilled ale, and wet carpet. You wrinkled your nose as you stepped off the ship, scanning the place like a senator inspecting a back-alley establishment—which, to be fair, was exactly what this was.
“You sure this is the right place?” you muttered to Echo under your breath.
“Unfortunately,” he replied, offering a small smirk. “Welcome to the galaxy’s finest example of poor life choices and questionable hygiene.”
Cid looked up from behind the bar, munching on what looked like a pickled frog. “You made it. And with all your limbs. That’s new.”
You gave her a tight nod. “We need to talk.”
She waved her stubby fingers toward her office. “Go on then. Let’s discuss what this little favor is gonna cost you.”
As you disappeared behind the door, the Batch headed for a corner booth.
Wrecker slid in first, already eyeing the snacks Cid had laid out. “So…” he said around a mouthful of something crunchy, “Echo’s got a thing for the senator.”
Echo’s head snapped toward him. “What?!”
Tech adjusted his goggles without even glancing up. “Your heartrate elevated approximately twelve percent every time she spoke to you. Statistically speaking, that suggests attraction. Possibly infatuation.”
“I do not have a thing,” Echo muttered, looking around like someone might hear—besides the four people very obviously hearing.
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You did dive in front of a blaster for her.”
“I would’ve done that for anyone.”
Wrecker grinned. “Yeah, but you didn’t look that heroic when you saved me last week.”
“That’s because you dropped an entire crate of detonators on your own foot.”
Omega slid into the seat beside Echo, kicking her legs casually. “She is really pretty.”
Echo stiffened. “Omega…”
“I saw the way you looked at her,” she said with that knowing look that made even Hunter flinch sometimes. “Like she was a sunset and you hadn’t seen one in a long time.”
Wrecker blinked. “Wow. That was poetic.”
Echo scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t—look, she’s a senator. I’m—”
“A clone with a heart,” Omega finished for him. “She saw it, too. The way she smiled at you? She likes you back.”
Echo opened his mouth, then shut it. Then sighed.
“I hate it when you do that.”
“I love it,” Omega chirped. “You should tell her.”
“I just saved her life. I’m not gonna flirt with her right after that.”
Hunter leaned back. “Might be the perfect time, actually. Emotions are high. Could work.”
Tech blinked. “Are we… encouraging romantic entanglements mid-fugitive status?”
Omega grinned. “Yes.”
Echo shook his head, cheeks tinged with color. “You’re all impossible.”
From behind them, the door to Cid’s office creaked open. You stepped out, looking just as poised and stubborn as you did in the Senate—but your eyes immediately found Echo’s across the cantina.
You offered a small, grateful smile. “Still alive, thanks to you.”
Echo stood, clearing his throat. “Anytime.”
Omega elbowed him hard as you approached.
“Ask her about sunsets!” she whispered.
As you made your way back to the booth, you caught the tail end of Omega’s whispering to Echo, her grin too wide and mischievous.
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Sunsets?” you asked, stepping closer. “What about sunsets?”
Echo stiffened, clearly scrambling for an explanation. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, only for Omega to literally jump into the conversation.
“Echo wanted to show you the sunset!” she blurted out, her eyes sparkling with that cheeky mischief only she could get away with. “He said they’re beautiful on the outer rim. He even said you might like them.”
Echo turned bright red, his mouth working soundlessly for a moment as his brain tried to catch up to Omega’s open confession. “I—wait, I—no… That’s not what I said—”
You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips at his obvious discomfort. “Sunsets, huh?” You cocked an eyebrow, leaning on the edge of the table. “That’s a pretty romantic gesture for a soldier.”
Echo quickly waved his hands, as though trying to physically push the words back into his mouth. “It’s not like that. I—I just—Omega, you—you…!”
Omega leaned back in her seat, arms folded with the smug satisfaction of someone who knew exactly what they’d just done. “You should definitely go watch a sunset with her,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s perfect. You’re both already really good at staring at the sky.”
You gave Echo a playful look. “Well, I don’t mind the idea of a sunset. It’s been a while since I’ve actually seen one.”
Echo exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to the table, clearly overwhelmed by the situation. His usual calm and composed demeanor was nowhere to be found.
“I—uh—I—” He paused, his hand running over his short-cropped hair in frustration. “I mean… if you want to, I could show you one. I’ve got some good spots, but I really don’t—uh—expect you to—”
Wrecker, always the instigator, leaned forward from the opposite booth. “You wanted to show her a sunset, Echo. Sounds like a date to me.”
“Wrecker!” Echo groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not asking her out—!”
“Well, someone should,” Wrecker grinned. “It’s a good idea. A beautiful sunset and all that. You know, romantic-like.”
Omega crossed her arms and gave Echo an exaggerated side-eye. “You’re really bad at this.”
You watched the whole exchange with a lighthearted smile, clearly amused by how Echo was fidgeting like he was trying to dig his way out of a hole he’d accidentally fallen into. Finally, you leaned in, lowering your voice to something playful and teasing.
“If you’re really offering to show me a sunset, Echo, I’ll take you up on it,” you said, smirking as you watched his eyes widen in disbelief. “But I’m not making any promises about it being romantic.”
Echo blinked, clearly struggling to hide his relief. “Good. Yeah, good. I can do that. I mean—I can show you the sunset. That’s… normal, right?”
Omega gave him a thumbs up from across the table. “Normal! Totally normal.”
Hunter chuckled from the booth. “I don’t think it’s ever been normal with you, Echo.”
“I’m starting to realize that,” Echo muttered, shooting Omega a glare that barely had any heat behind it. “You’re lucky I like you, kid.”
“You’re welcome,” Omega chirped, her eyes glimmering with the kind of satisfaction only a matchmaker could feel.
~~~~~~~
You followed Echo out of the cantina and into the wilds of the Outer Rim, the two of you walking side by side in the fading light. It wasn’t a long journey, but Echo was unusually quiet, his usual confident stride now hesitant. You glanced over at him, trying to gauge whether he was just as nervous as he seemed.
“So,” you began, attempting to break the silence, “this sunset better be worth all the buildup.”
Echo glanced at you, his face turning slightly pink as he looked away quickly. “I mean, yeah, it’s a good spot,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s peaceful. Not a lot of people know about it.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you.
You smiled softly. “You must really like this place. It’s hard to believe a soldier like you would be into something so… serene.”
“Hey, even soldiers need some quiet,” Echo replied, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “I’ve seen enough battlefields to last a lifetime. This? This is… different.”
As you reached a ridge overlooking a vast expanse of orange and purple sky, you stopped. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows and bathing everything in golden light. The view was incredible. You couldn’t deny that Echo had chosen well.
“This… is beautiful,” you said quietly, letting the moment settle around you.
Echo stood a few feet away, glancing at the sky, but you could tell he wasn’t really focused on it. He fidgeted with his hands, his posture stiff, as though unsure of what to do with himself.
“Yeah. It is,” he said softly, though he didn’t seem to be looking at the sunset himself. His eyes kept darting back to you, and he swallowed hard.
A beat passed, then another, the two of you standing there in the stillness of the moment.
“So,” you began again, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, “Omega told me you’ve been staring at me like I’m the sunset or something. I’m starting to think she might’ve been onto something.”
Echo let out a strangled sound, something between a cough and a nervous laugh, and quickly turned away, his scomp fumbling with the edge of his armor. “I—look, I didn’t mean for her to—Omega… she has a way of—”
You laughed, your voice light and airy. “It’s fine, Echo. I’m just teasing.”
“Right,” he muttered, scratching his head. “You… you’re teasing. Yeah.”
The silence between you both grew, but now it was different—quieter, more relaxed, despite the awkward tension that had settled in. You couldn’t help but enjoy the strange warmth in the air.
Finally, Echo broke the quiet with a heavy sigh. “I’m really bad at this.”
“Bad at what?”
“At… this,” he gestured vaguely, not looking at you. “At not being awkward. You know, with people. I mean, I spent most of my life with clones, and—well, we didn’t exactly do sunsets.”
“Yeah, I imagine that would be difficult,” you said, your voice softer now. You could see how much this mattered to him, how much he was trying to make the moment right.
“You probably think I’m an idiot,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“No,” you said quickly, walking closer to him. “Not at all. You’re just… not used to doing this.”
Echo didn’t meet your eyes. “And I’m not great at… not being awkward around someone I think is way out of my league.”
That stopped you cold. You blinked, processing the words. “Out of your league?”
Echo shrugged, pulling at his sleeve nervously. “You’re a senator. You could have anyone you want. And I’m just—well, I’m just me. A soldier.”
You took a small step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “Echo,” you said gently, your voice soft but firm. “I’m here because I want to be here. Because I trust you.”
His eyes flicked to yours, searching your face as though looking for any sign that you were just being kind. But what he found was sincerity. You meant it.
The sun dipped lower, the sky ablaze with colors, and Echo took a deep breath, finally meeting your gaze. “I’m really bad at this… but I’m glad you came anyway.”
You smiled and stepped forward, your hand brushing against his—just enough for him to notice. “Me too, Echo. Me too.”
You and Echo walked back in silence, though the tension between you was different now—softer, less painful. The cantina was as busy as before, the dim lights casting long shadows across the floor. The rest of the Batch was already there, and as soon as you and Echo entered, the teasing began.
Wrecker was the first to speak. “So,” he began with a huge grin, “how was the sunset?”
Echo shot him a glare. “I didn’t—we didn’t—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wrecker laughed. “You two were just looking at the sky, right?”
You gave him a playful side-eye. “Why don’t you ask Omega? She’s the one who knows all about sunsets.”
Omega was sitting at the booth, her feet kicked up, looking entirely too smug for someone her age. “I told you it would be perfect,” she said, glancing at Echo with a knowing look.
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “So, Echo, what happened with the sunset? You get all the way out there just to not—”
Echo groaned and covered his face with his hand. “I’m not answering any of you.”
Tech, ever the neutral party, smiled faintly. “I believe this is the point where you’re supposed to express how much you enjoyed the company of your… companion.”
“Shut up, Tech,” Echo grumbled.
Omega leaned in, looking at you, then at Echo, her grin impossibly wide. “Did you kiss her, Echo?”
Echo nearly choked on his drink. “What? No! We—we—”
“I’m just saying,” Omega continued innocently, “there was some serious chemistry, and I don’t think you’ll be able to ignore it for much longer.”
“Omega,” Echo hissed, looking at her like she’d just dropped a thermal detonator at his feet.
But you just laughed, the tension from earlier melting away. “She’s not wrong, Echo. You’re pretty easy to read.”
Echo could only groan in response, his face as red as the setting sun.
A/N
I kinda hate this tbh, but I had an idea but then I had like a million other ideas while writing this and I feel like it’s kinda mix matched.
⸻
Pabu Festival Night
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden light over the sea as the village of Pabu came alive with lanterns, laughter, and the mouthwatering scent of street food. Strings of glowing paper lights swayed between buildings, and music floated through the air—something old, joyous, and deeply local.
You were elbow-deep in flour and slightly burnt noodles at a stall near the center square, laughing as a group of children tried to help and made an absolute mess of everything. Your hair stuck to your face, there was something sticky on your pants, and your smile had never been wider.
Hunter leaned against a post nearby, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like you were the only person on the planet. His squad hovered beside him, all wearing variations of amused smirks—except Tech, who was deeply invested in analyzing the music’s rhythm pattern with furrowed brows.
“Stars, he’s doing it again,” Echo said, nudging Hunter’s side with his elbow.
“Doing what?” Hunter muttered, not looking away.
“Staring at her like she’s a dessert he’s too afraid to order,” Wrecker said with a laugh. “Come on, Sarge, just tell her she looks pretty with noodles in her hair.”
“She does,” Hunter said under his breath, then quickly shook his head. “Shut up.”
“She’s going to think you’re broken,” Tech added dryly. “Most humans engage in verbal communication when expressing attraction.”
“You’re all insufferable,” Hunter growled.
“Hey, Hunter!” Omega’s voice chirped brightly, cutting through the banter as she skipped over, cheeks pink with excitement. “Did you ask her yet?”
Wrecker snorted. “Maker, Omega, we’ve talked about subtlety.”
“Oh! Right,” Omega grinned, then leaned up conspiratorially, stage-whispering way too loudly, “You should ask her though. She wants you to. I asked.”
Hunter stared at her, stunned. “You what?”
“Matchmaking,” she said proudly. “Crosshair said you’d drag your feet forever so I thought I’d help.”
“Crosshair’s not even here.”
“Exactly. I’m doing his part too.”
Before Hunter could come up with a coherent response, you turned and spotted them. Your smile brightened when your eyes landed on him.
“Hey! You guys just gonna lurk or actually join the party?”
Hunter stood straighter, clearing his throat. “We’re—uh—considering our options.”
“I’m voting for food and dancing!” Omega beamed, grabbing Hunter’s hand and dragging him forward. “Come on, she saved us noodles.”
⸻
Later, By the Dancing Lanterns
You swayed barefoot on the warm stone path, clutching a sweet drink in one hand and laughing as locals pulled strangers into their dancing circles. The music had picked up, and lights flickered off the sea like tiny stars had dropped into the water.
You spotted Hunter hanging at the edge of it all, looking like a soldier at the edge of a battlefield he didn’t quite understand.
You approached him slowly, grinning up at him as you offered your hand. “Dance with me?”
He blinked. “I don’t dance.”
“You’ve got enhanced reflexes and perfect rhythm,” you said, teasing. “You’ll be fine. I’ll even go easy on you.”
A beat passed. His eyes searched yours, and then—to the shock of everyone within fifty feet—he took your hand.
The music wrapped around you like warmth as he followed you into the circle, stiff at first, focused too hard on every step.
“You’re thinking about it too much,” you whispered, drawing closer. “Let go. It’s just you and me.”
His hand slid to your waist, a bit hesitant, a bit bold. “Easier said than done.”
“Well,” you murmured, brushing your fingers along his chest, “if it helps… I’ve wanted to touch you like this for a long time.”
He exhaled sharply, eyes darkening. “You really know how to mess with a guy’s focus.”
“I have excellent timing.”
He finally smiled—small, crooked, but real. “You do.”
You moved together, slower now, drifting into your own little orbit as the circle of dancers spun around you. The music faded into the background, and all that remained was the warmth of his hands, the steadiness of his breath, and the unspoken pull that had been building for months.
⸻
The festival had died down, lanterns bobbing on the sea, distant laughter echoing through the trees. You and Hunter sat by the water, his arm loosely around your shoulders, your head resting against him.
“Didn’t think I’d ever have this,” he said quietly.
You turned toward him. “What?”
“This kind of life. Something soft. Someone like you.”
Your heart twisted. “You deserve this. All of it.”
His fingers brushed against yours, then threaded together slowly. “I used to think needing someone made me weak.”
“And now?”
He looked at you, voice low. “Now I think it makes me human.”
You leaned in, letting your lips brush against his. “Took you long enough.”
From somewhere up the hill, Wrecker’s voice bellowed: “Pay up! I told you they’d kiss before midnight!”
Omega cheered. “You’re welcome!”
Hunter groaned and buried his face in your shoulder. “They’re never letting this go.”
“Good,” you smiled. “Neither am I.”
⸻