I Know Tech Would Never Slip Up Like That, But I Know We'd Be Thrilled.

I know Tech would never slip up like that, but I know we'd be thrilled.

The Badlantis Batch (Atlantis x tbb): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

@techwrecker @lonewolflupe @ithillia @profettshonalfettfettishist

Ahhhh love this! 😍😍😍😍

The promise.

The faith in that promise.

Can we get come consensus on Wrecker’s left eye? I’ve always assumed it was cybernetic because otherwise I think it would be pretty hard for him in the field but I’ve seen others say he’s blind in that eye… what do you think? I’m genuinely curious.

This is so good!!!

Plan 66

There were plenty of disadvantages to being experimental commandos, Hunter remarked to himself as the squad staggered towards their barracks, but there were upsides here and there. For instance, after a typically torturous day of training, testing, and reg torment, they were making their way towards their own private room- far from the prying eyes and muttered comments of regs and kaminoans alike. Granted, they were returning to said barracks in various states of exhaustion, many hours after late-meal, because maybe those disadvantages were just a bit more substantial. 

The door to the barracks slid open and the 99s swiftly scattered to various corners of the room. Hunter paused for a moment in the doorway, savouring the feeling of safety. His squad was here, together, and for now he could keep them all in his sight and away from danger. 

Hunter sat on his bunk and began readjusting his senses to the Kamino rain outside and the permanently unfortunate smell of the 99s’ barracks. His brothers were doing similar activities to declare to the world that they were done for the day- Wrecker began rummaging through the plentiful supply of snacks they absolutely weren’t supposed to keep in their room, Tech left his datapad on his rack and beelined it for the refresher before anyone else could claim the first sonic, and Crosshair collapsed face-first on his bunk and buried his head under a pillow without even pausing to remove his training armour. 

A few minutes passed in blessed peace. Wrecker began hoisting heavy objects over his head, Hunter began sorting through command training assignments he was expected to have done several months ago, and Tech emerged from the sonic and reclaimed his data pad. Hunter absentmindedly watched his brother coast through unknown reaches of the holonet that gave Tech his infinite wisdom. As he watched, Tech’s darting eyes stopped flitting behind their goggles and he sat down suddenly. “This is… not ideal.” He said, voice shaking very slightly. “Hunter? I-“

Crosshair’s voice emanated from his bunk, “I swear, if those bastards spring another of their ‘surprise assessments’ on us, Kamino will burn.”

“No, it is not-“ Tech cut himself off with a harsh exhale and simply turned his datapad around, the illuminated screen casting eerie light across the floor. Hunter edged forewarned and read off the screen: OFFICIAL G.A.R. REPORT FROM UMBARAN FRONT- FRIENDLY FIRE CASUALTY NUMBERS RISING

Hunter would have read more, but Tech turned the screen back around and pressed the datapad to his chest. “I read it,” Tech said, “it is a disturbing incident that merits immediate discussion.”

Hunter called over their other two brothers and they waited in tense silence for Tech to explain. “I have compiled an explanation from various official and unofficial sources,” Tech began. “From my understanding, the 501st and 212th legions suffered significant losses in a friendly fire incident arranged by their Jedi general.

“A Jedi did this?!” Wrecker gasped, “I thought they were in our side!”

“Indeed,” Tech said, “a Besalisk Jedi Master by the name of Pong Krell, who seemingly planned to leave the Jedi order and offer his services to the Separatists. 

The regs apprehended him, losing more men in the effort. He was executed on Umbara.”

“Who did it?” Hunter asked in morbid fascination. “Wouldn’t killing a Jedi be a death sentence for a clone? Did the 501st lose their commander? Was it… Cody?”

 “It would seem he was killed by CT-6922, otherwise known as Dogma. I have been unable to locate Dogma in any subsequent reports or communications. Furthermore, his number has been deleted from the Kaminoan database.”

“He killed a traitor,” Cosshair muttered, glaring at nothing, “and they made him disappear.”

 “So it would appear.” Tech put aside his datapad and levelled a serious stare at his brothers. Hunter felt Tech’s eyes catch his and hold his gaze. “I am reluctant to accept that all the Jedi will turn on their soldiers so easily. However, it is now a proven possibility. As such, it seems prudent to be prepared in case we are ever in the presence of a Jedi who wishes us harm.”

The squad exchanged glances. Wrecker was the first to break the silence. “But… will we even be working with Jedi? The regs have generals, but we’ll be on our own once we graduate, won’t we? We only really report to Cody.”

Hunter sighed. Time to be the sergent, he supposed. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, I guess. Cody’s got a Jedi. We can’t avoid them completely.”

Tech nodded once and set his datapad on his lap, hands poised to type. “Precisely. As such, we need a plan. Just in case.”

They nodded along grimly and echoed him, “just in case.”

___________________

The discussion took hours. Jedi, it turns out, were not very easy to kill. But the Bad Batch weren’t the Bad Batch for nothing. As such, many scrapped ideas, shouting matches, and some very unhappy consciences later, they had a plan. It wasn’t perfect and it certainly wasn’t pretty, but it was enough. Eventually, Tech finished typing. “Well,” he sighed, “I suppose that is that. Now it needs a name. The next available numerical designation is fifty-t-“ 

“Sixty-Six,” Crosshair interrupted unexpectedly. Throughout the entire discussion, he had been very quiet, providing ideas when required, but largely just observing as the plan came together. Yet every time they flagged, every time Hunter threw his hands up in despair and declared it was futile, he was there. He’d set a hand on Hunter’s shoulder and meet his gaze with a look that said far better than Crosshair himself ever could that he needed to stay strong for the sake of the squad.

That look was no where to be seen, now. In its place was an oddly dark, thousand-yard stare that put his brother uncomfortably in mind of a corpse. “It’s got to be Plan Sixty-Six.”

Tech, puzzled, tried to argue that “It does not makes sense to skip the preceding numbers for this one in particular,” but then Wrecker spoke up:

“No, he’s right. It’s gotta be that. It just feels… right”

Hunter found himself nodding along. For some reason, as soon as Crosshair said it, there was no alternative. Even Tech conceded the point, muttering some rationalization involving multiples of eleven.

In the dark, mind still spinning with the news of Umbara and the newly minted “plan 66”, Hunter was struck by the creeping feeling that they had just taken once step closer to something terrible. Something inescapable. 

Something horribly, world-shakingly, inevitable.

A Dance Through Time

This took me about two months to finish and it's the biggest piece I've ever done. Inspiration came while I was listening to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman one day, and the vision of Hunter and Omega swaying to the rhythm together came to life before my eyes. Listening to it more brought a realization that some parts of the song fit the story of these two almost perfectly, taking them on a journey from the very first episode of the show to the day peace is restored in the galaxy - like the first verse talking about their beginnings and the second one describing the struggles of living from job to job that we see in season 2. But the core of the story - of the show, of this duo, and of these characters separately - can be brought down to these four lines:

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we can fly away?

We gotta make a decision

Leave tonight or live and die this way

In case Tumblr messes with the quality, you can find the separate pieces, in order, under the cut.

Hmmm working on a thing and decided to lean into the 'Hunter's tattoos go all the way down' thing in reverse order:-

Free of Kaminoan oversight, Hunter immediately began modifying his appearance, a process which Crosshair watched with interest. His hair was quick to grow out, once it wasn’t regularly being shorn, and he began inking the skin of his left hand to mirror the bones beneath. It wasn’t long before the design spread up his forearm to his elbow, and then he was forced to enlist his brothers’ help to continue the skeletal theme to his upper arm. When he suggested inking his face, Crosshair had studied him for a long, silent moment, enhanced eyesight drinking in every aspect of Hunter’s appearance. Then he simply shrugged and said, “Sure, why not.”

Edit: finished this, posted it Here