Test Subjects: Part 2

Test Subjects: Part 2

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Relationships: Crosshair & Echo & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: Blood and injury, Drug Usage

Summary:

After finding out about the tampered with stims, Hunter tries to contact Crosshair. Only problem is, Crosshair refuses to answer is comlink. Hunter correctly suspects that something is very wrong.

Word count: 1,650

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Hunter's crouched near the central landing platform in the base when his comlink activates, allowing Tech's voice to spill into his helmet.

“Do not use any of the new stims,” Tech speaks, sounding out of breath. “They've been tampered with.”

Hunter groans, catching what Tech means immediately. It's been a while since new supplies have been tested on them, Hunter should have expected something like this. Then it dawns on Hunter that it's strange Tech decided to inspect the new stims mid mission.

“Tech, what happened?” Hunter asks. Something feels off.

“I gave Wrecker two. He's unusually hostile and currently running from us.”

“Kark,” Hunter hisses.

“You can say that again,” Echo's voice joins their conversation.

“You two focus on getting Wrecker, I'll contact Crosshair,” Hunter orders, getting affirmative answers from both his vode.

As soon as Hunter's cut the communication with Tech and Echo, he switches to Crosshair's comm-channel. “Cross, we've got a problem. The stims we got are bad, don't use them.”

Hunter waits, waits for a full minute, then two, all with no response from Crosshair.

“Crosshair, answer your comm,” Hunter tries again, a little louder this time. Crosshair has a tendency to block out his surroundings when sniping, but this doesn't feel right. He doesn't answer Hunter this time either.

“Crosshair!” Hunter snaps. The silence answering him is deafening.

Hunter tries to remember the last time he talked with Crosshair, coming to the worrying conclusion that he'd communicated with him directly only at the start of the mission. Anything could have happened during that time. He'd heard the shots of Crosshair's Firepuncher, but that does little to calm Hunter.

He peers across the landing platform. Crosshair set himself up somewhere here, that much Hunter knows. There are deactivated droids littering the the platform in every direction, giving Hunter no indication of the origin of the shots. Crosshair will likely be on one of the roofs or raised platforms.

Hunter will have to rely on his senses to find his little brother. Crosshair's evidently too far away to be heard, Hunter can't hear his heartbeat or breathing. Hunter doesn't let himself linger on the thought that he might be unable to hear Crosshair because he's dead.

Tilting his helmet up, Hunter sniffs the air. There are dozens of smells hanging in the air, fuel and fire being those most noticeable. Some natborn separatist wearing an awful perfume must have been near the platform a while ago and a container of mechanical lubricant must have spilled some way away. Under all the different scents, Hunter can pick out his brother.

Hunter knows they all crossed the landing platform earlier, but distinguishing Crosshair from the others isn't difficult.

Careful of the open space of the landing platform, Hunter follows the smell. If Crosshair is well, he'll cover Hunter, but if Crosshair were well, he'd answer his comm. Even he isn't petty enough to ignore Hunter in such a serious situation.

Hunter moves slowly, watching his surroundings. He can't hear any droids nearby, but that doesn't mean he's safe.

Halfway across the platform, Hunter stops to look at the building he's approaching. The roof is high, no clear way indicating how to get up, but it's the direction the scent has led him so far. Hunter can't spot Crosshair on the roof, but only a lousy sniper would let themselves be seen this easily. That means nothing and says nothing about the state Crosshair is in.

That's when something in the air seems to tense, putting Hunter on high alert. He drops to the floor, blaster bolt clipping his shoulder bell. Ducking behind a crate, Hunter stays flat to the ground. He hisses between clenched teeth as he prods at his shoulder. A second shot rings out, hitting the ground near the crate.

Hunter recognizes that sound. Crosshair's Firepuncher, he's sure of it.

Confusion grips Hunter as he tries to make sense of that revelation. Crosshair wouldn't shoot at his brothers, not in a way that actually hurts them. But no clanker can snipe like that. Hunter's not even sure B1's and B2's can deal with weapons they weren't programmed for.

“Crosshair, what the kark are you doing?” Hunter tries his comm again, not even expecting an answer any more.

There's one way Hunter could explain the situation, that being Crosshair taking one of the experimental stims. He doesn't like the idea of two of his little brothers having unidentified substances in their blood, but it's better than Crosshair being dead and having his blaster stolen.

Moving close to the ground, Hunter sprints to the next crate, just a little closer to where Crosshair should be. Two bolts narrowly miss Hunter. If it's Crosshair on that roof, something in that stim is making him slow.

The next bit of cover is further off. Hunter doesn't doubt Crosshair will hit him if he's exposed for that long, so he attempts to create a diversion. Pulling the arm off a broken B1, Hunter throws it across the platform. It clatters across the ground and, as predicted, it is hit by a blaster bolt split seconds after landing.

Hunter can work with that. Grabbing two more pieces of twisted metal, a head and a plate of metal likely previously part of a droids chest, Hunter runs, throwing one after the other far away from himself.

He doesn't wait around to watch Crosshair shoot, only hearing the two shots across the landing platform. It's a distraction, but not a big enough one. A third shot is fired, hitting the outside of Hunter's thigh.

Either Crosshair's aim is off, or the shooter is toying with Hunter.

Laying on the ground behind the cover of a land-speeder clearly used to haul crates, Hunter listens for movement as he inspects his leg. It's worse than his shoulder, but thankfully missed bone. Hunter grits his teeth as he moves. He's closer now, almost certain he can hear a heartbeat. It has to be Crosshair's.

Hunter looks underneath the speeder, scouting his route. He's almost at the building, only needing to cross a few more meters to get there. The speeder looks functional and from what Hunter can see, he could drive it. Doing so would make him a target, but the speeder can serve as a diversion.

Without thinking too much, Hunter quickly pops up from his cover, activating the speeder. Speed clearly isn't what the vehicle was designed for, but as Hunter runs, he can hear it knocking something over.

Shot after shot is fired, but none at Hunter. Only when he's underneath where Crosshair should be does the agony of his leg catch up with Hunter. Pressing his palm to the thigh plate on his injured leg, Hunter searches for a way up. The heartbeat is louder here, fast and frantic. It's Crosshair's, Hunter's sure of it.

He's in a corner, one wall being almost featureless duracrete. There's a slight indent in the second wall due to a window and a ventilation unit a little above it near the first wall. Above the Ventilation unit sits a grate, likely a part of ventilation as well. Hunter reckons he could use the gaps in it to climb high enough to reach the roofs ledge.

Hunter sighs. Of course Crosshair would pick to scale something like this. If Hunter had the time, he'd look for a better way up onto the roof, but they're rarely afforded the luxury of time.

Pulling himself onto the tiny ledge of the window, Hunter can reach the space between the wall and ventilation unit. Pressing a hand against each surface, Hunter uses his legs to give him enough leverage to lift his hands higher. After a few more rounds of this, Hunter can press his back against the wall to keep himself in place.

Slowly, he shuffles up the wall, pressing himself against either surface to stay up. When he finally grasps the edge of the ventilation unit, Hunter drags himself up onto it, internally cursing Crosshair the entire time.

Hunter's legs shake as he stands up, groaning at the pain shooting through his injured limb.

The grate is a little ways up, so Hunter has to jump to grab it. Not wanting to hang there, begging to be used as target practice, Hunter begins to climb. He's yet to attract Crosshair's attention. If he had, he'd already be dead.

Once over the ledge and on the roof, Hunter crouches low, looking around as he gains his bearings.

Sure enough, Crosshair is laying flat on the roof, Firepuncher in hand. He still hasn't noticed Hunter. A couple of destroyed droids are spread across the roof, proving to Hunter that there must be a better way up here. The air smells of dried blood, giving Hunter an idea as to why Crosshair might have taken a stim in the first place.

As he shuffles closer to his brother, Hunter hears his breathing. Crosshair's almost panting for air, nearly as hectic as his heartbeat. There's no doubt in Hunter's mind, Crosshair must have took a stim.

Hunter doesn't want to opt for immediate hostility, not wanting to harm his brother, but can't think of a good way to subdue him.

Before his mind can go further than that, Hunter's comlink activates.

“We found Wrecker,” Echo says, sounding winded, “Everything good at your end.”

“No,” Hunter hisses quietly, hoping Crosshair doesn't hear him, “Crosshair had a stim too. I've almost got him.”

When Hunter cuts the connection, for a split second, he thinks Crosshair hasn't noticed. Then Crosshair suddenly sits up, turning quickly to stare at Hunter.

“Just me, Cross'ika,” Hunter ties, “Stay calm, I'm not the enemy.”

Usually, speaking softly works wonders against the fog stims put on his brothers minds. Not with the altered stim.

Crosshair stands up, raising his Firepuncher as something almost growl-like falls from his lips and pulls the trigger

Mando'a Translation:

Vod/vode – sibling/siblings 'ika - diminutive suffix, can be added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form

I sort of have a headcanon that Wrecker is acutely aware of how he comes across. He’s a giant compared to every other clone on Kamino and compared to most humans generally, built like a tank, massively strong, has definitely been through something intense—in general he looks like a guy you don’t want to mess with. Someone walks into a bar or something looking to cause trouble, sees him sitting there, and turns around because they’ve just done risk assessment and imagined his fist wrapped around what used to be their skull. He’s intimidating.

And honestly I think that’s part of why Wrecker is so aggressively friendly. I mean it helps that Wrecker is actually friendly, he’s not pretending, I’m not saying that—I just think he plays up Fun Mode just a tiny, tiny bit sometimes, just to put people at ease, or to break up tension.

⚓ Wrecker in a Peacoat!

And be sure to check out the rest of the boys looking mighty handsome in their coats, too.

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Buy Me Groceries | Treat Yo Self | Watch Me Art / Learn Art

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Ok you know what, let's spread some positivity. Reblog this if you actually like Star Wars

And I am refering to all of star wars and not just select parts of it. Even if you have issues with parts of it, you still enjoy it.

do i have the motivation to write? read? nope. but god damn do i always have the motivation to sexualise that clone

Just the two of us

Summary: you run into a curious girl with her large group of brothers during a festival on Pabu. Your favourite of the batch, though, is Wrecker. Wrecker x reader, she/her pronouns used.

Word count: 2726 (this one got away from me)

Warnings: there’s a slight indicator that Echo has trouble eating new foods, so keep that in mind if that’s triggering for you. But other than that it’s pure fluff!

Authors note: dude I love Wrecker so much, he’s such a sweetheart. I had the time of my life writing this. This is set after the events of s3. Tech IS alive and IS in a relationship with Phee. Because I said so.

Beneath your hands, you intricately weaved the young girls hair into braids. Your makeup and hair stand had been a big hit so far into the night, and kids had been lining up to have their face painted. It warmed your heart each time they looked into the mirror you’d propped up, beaming at the animal you’d painted onto their face, or the fun hairstyle you’d put together for them. Lyana was your favourite customer though, always sitting still and patient as you adorned her hair with braids and flowers.

“And Auntie Phee said she’ll bring back a treasure for me.”

“Wow! She sounds quite the adventurer.”

“She is. When I’m older, she’s going to take me with her at some point.”

You chuckled, wondering what Shep had to say to that. “I’m sure she will. Well, you’re all done.”

Lyana turned to the mirror, checking her reflection out before looking back to you. She wore a large grin as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

The girl ran off, her braids piled securely on her head. You smiled, turning your attention to your hair tools. After putting the brushes away, you settled back into your chair and sipped your mocktail. The sun was just beginning to set, and the island was washed in pink and orange hues.

This was always your favourite festival. The day of the high tide was the mark of summer, and as the story went, the moon had shed a tear for its lost love- the sun- which dropped into the ocean, building the island of Pabu in its place. In turn, the days began growing longer as a thank you from the sun. When the island population grew, the festival grew too as a mark of celebration for the gifts from both the sun and the moon. It lasted all day, until the early hours of the morning. Each year you held a different stall, always yearning to do something for the community that had done so much for you, and this year you thought you’d put your hair and makeup skills to the test. So far it was proving a damned good decision.

You put your glass down, attention drawn to the girl approaching the stall. She was holding hands with an older man, who had scars along one side of his face, and chatting deeply with another older man. He wore a skull tattoo on one half of his face. They could only be the clones you’d heard so much about.

When she spoke, her strong accent rung out. “Hi! Lyana pointed us here, she said you do hair?”

Your hands leant on the work counter as you leaned forward. “I do indeed, makeup as well. All festival looks. You must be… Omega?”

“Yeah, and these are my brothers, Wrecker and Hunter.” She gestured to both as she spoke.

“It’s lovely to meet you guys. I take it you want your hair done too?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

“No trouble at all! Take a seat.”

As she sat, Hunter asked you if this cost anything, which of course it didn’t. Your stalls for the high tides festival each year were always free.

“Are you sure? No credits at all?”

“Why? Do you want your hair done as well, sir?”

He scoffed. “No one touches my hair.”

“In that case, you can stop your fretting.”

Wrecker laughed, loud and boisterous. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “Mega’s in safe hands, Sarge.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The gentle giant rubbed the back of his neck, “call me Wrecker.”

“Wrecker it is.”

Happy that Omega was content, Hunter saw her and his brother off, wishing you a goodbye. Apparently he had to go ‘monitor Cross’, whatever that meant. The girl in the seat was inquisitive, you found, constantly asking questions about the hair procedure and how to do braids. It baffled you that a girl of her age didn’t know how to braid hair, but you taught her nonetheless. Wrecker sat by watching. You weren’t sure what to make of him. He was quiet, but you got a general sense that he was gentle. It sent a tickling up your spine, a desire to know more.

“Well, what do you think?” You asked Omega, pointing her to the mirror.

“Oh, I love it! Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” You shrug it off, leaning against the counter. As you cross your arms, your eyes catch Wrecker’s, and the tips of his ears flush pink. The giant was rather cute, you’d come to decide.

Wrecker couldn’t pull his gaze away. You were so good with the kid, and your smile- he found himself smiling along with you, even if he wasn’t a part of the conversation. His eyes lingered on your dress, a floral yellow one that had a small bow beneath the dip of your chest. It hugged your curves just right, and Maker, did you look good in it. What’s more, you looked comfortable. Your hands deftly worked on Omegas hair, easily and gently pulling the strands into intricate braids. When your eyes found his, he finally looked away, sheepish at the fact that he’d been caught ogling you. As he gazed at the sand underneath his shoes, he became vaguely aware of Omega’s voice.

“Wrecker?”

His head shot up. “Yeah?”

“Wanna get going?”

“Oh uh,” his eyes drifted to you. “Sure.”

Omega took his hand again, hopping off the chair she had been sitting on. A shooting ache in his chest sprung as he left you in your stall, and the corners of his lips fell into a frown. The two of you had barely exchanged words past pleasantries, and yet he still felt so inexplicably drawn to you… that hadn’t happened before. He wondered if he was developing a small crush, but that wasn’t likely. He had always had a large crush on Senator Amidala, and this felt nothing at all like that. Wrecker bit his lip in contemplation.

Omega swung his hand. “Soooo, wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

“Huh? What?”

“You’re being quiet. What is it?”

“Pft, nothin’s on my mind.” He scratched the back of his head with his free hand.

“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t be that stall keeper, would it? What was her name? Y/…. Something.”

“Y/N.”

Omega looked up at her big brother, noticing the softness in his brash voice. She couldn’t resist smiling at it. Usually Wrecker was so loud, so impulsive, and despite what some thought, he had a cracking brain on him. Each time he talked with Omega about bomb mechanics, or hell, even the inner workings of cooking, she was always impressed. How did he not see that he was falling for Y/N? Omega had read about love at first sight, and had always wanted to believe in it. If this was such a thing, she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

Besides, she liked you. You were sweet, gentle, and your jokes had the two of you giggling together during her hairdo. She had to get Wrecker and you to interact again.

Your watch struck eight pm. It was time to lock up. When you ran a children’s stall, you never ran them past eight pm because they were too preoccupied to join it. It also meant you had time to enjoy the festivities of the high tide party before the night completely evaded you. After packing your things away and locking the stall up, you tucked the key into your pocket and strolled towards Shep. As per usual, you wanted to express your gratitude for his permission regarding conducting your little business.

Your hand nudged his arm. “Thanks again for letting me run the stall. I had a lot of fun.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. Thank you for running it! I can see it was a big hit with the kids this year.”

“Yeah, they liked this one. Any chance for a burger? I’m famished.”

“They’re still going. Max is directing the grill this year, along with Rosa.”

You bid Shep farewell, turning to the direction of Max and his sister. The three of you fell into easy conversation as Max prepared your food, Rosa sitting to the side taking a break. She held a cocktail in hand, and had already made and given you one too. You had somehow drunk half the glass by the time Max handed you your burger. When you were mid-way through a bite, a voice called your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned, still biting into your burger. A drop of sauce fell down to the sand as you did, and to your terror, there stood Omega, Wrecker and a bloke with a scomp for an arm. You swallowed harshly.

“Uh, hey.”

“Friends of yours, Y/N?” Rosa asked.

“I’d say so. I haven’t met this one yet, though.”

“Name’s Echo, ma’am.”

You nodded your head to him. “Hi.”

“We were wondering if we could get something to eat?” Omega asked, standing on her tiptoes to look at Max’s menu.

“Hell yeah, lil lady. We’ve got burgers, chips, hot dogs, and Rosa’s in charge of drinks. What d’ya fancy?” He rested his elbows on the make-shift counter as he spoke.

“Hmm… I think chips. What about you guys?”

“I’m not really hungry.”

“Echo, you need to eat something!”

“I’ll steal a few of your chips then.”

Omega glared at him, her hands on her hips. You giggled through your burger. Once you swallowed your bite, you turned conspiratorially to him and dropped your voice to a hush, as if sharing a secret.

“Max’ burgers are the best on the planet. You can’t fault ‘em. And he's absolutely lovely, so if you wanna change anything up, he’ll do whatever it is, easy peasy. Go on, you know you wanna.” You nudged his side with your elbow.

“Hmm, you’re quite convincing but I’m not really one for trying new foods. But Maker above, if it’ll shut you up, Mega, I’ll have chips.”

The small girl high fived you, a shared celebration of getting Echo to eat something substantial. When Max asked Wrecker what he wanted to eat, the giant looked at you, biting into the last of your burger, and decided he wanted one too.

After Max had prepared the orders for the clones, Omega ended up dragging you away with them. The family you joined were sitting around a small bonfire, Hunter sitting beside a man who had a dog at his feet. Next to him, Phee sat with a man with goggles on. You soon learnt these were Omega’s other brothers, as was Echo. You took your seat besides Phee, finding comfort in knowing someone in the group. As the night wore on, you soon became good friends with the odd group, although you put that down to Omega. She was a ball of sunshine.

“Well, I never pegged you as someone to back down from a challenge.” Phee nodded her fork to Crosshair.

He hissed back, “I’m not.”

“Then game on, grumpy.”

You giggled, leaning your chin on your folded knees as you watched Phee stand and take position. Crosshair did the same, brushing the sand off his legs.

“I now announce this fight to be in action!” Omega clapped her hands.

The two of them brawled, and the rest of you began to place bets on who you each thought would win. Hunter assumed Crosshair, Echo voted for Phee (“eh, why not? It would be funny” were his exact words), Omega voted for both, unable to decide, Wrecker voted for Phee, and Tech voted for his girlfriend. Although he was about to vote for Crosshair, but Hunter kicked his ankle and he coughed out Phee’s name instead. You voted for Phee, having not seen the sniper fight before.

Tech called out from where he was sitting, “go for the back of his knees!”

“I know, I am!”

“Well, do it better.”

Just as the fight was about to hit the eye of the storm, Wrecker belched loudly. Each of you paused and turned to him, before laughing simultaneously. Over the course of the night, he’d become more comfortable, you realised. He was still being quiet though, which was apparently unnatural according to the many comments his brothers made.

“I said, didn't I? The best burgers on the planet.” you commented, still smiling.

“Yeah, you’ve got pretty good taste.”

“Thanks big guy. If you think that, I gotta take you to a restaurant down on south street in Ord Mantell. It’s kinda seedy, but they do the most amazing noodles.”

You watched Wrecker’s eyes light up. “Really? Dinner out?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be nice, we couldn’t sit in, but we could all find a place to eat together.”

His eyebrows furrowed a little. “Oh, all?”

“Well-”

A yelp rang out. You and Wrecker turned your heads back to the fight, where Phee had Crosshair pinned on the floor with his arm twisted behind his back. “Fine, fine, you win,” he seemed to be grumbling.

Phee let Crosshair go, standing and throwing her arms out. “I won.”

“We knew you would.” Tech added as she slid back into his arms.

“Liar.”

“I demand a rematch on solid ground.”

“Aw, he’s salty. Fine, rematch later.”

“Fine with me,” Crosshair muttered, his fingers stroking over Batcher’s skin once he was seated.

The batch resumed talking, pulling you and Wrecker into their conversation and away from yours. Eventually Hunter stood to take Omega home, and one by one everyone followed. Only you and Wrecker stay seated by the now dying embers of the fire. With the disappearance of the others, your conversation had also dwindled. When you faced the clone, you could see as clear as day that he was nervous. His teeth bit into his lip and his eyes darted from yours to the sand. It was quite endearing.

“So,” you began, playfully leaning into his side. “Just the two of us left.”

“Heh, yeah.”

“To be honest, I’m quite happy about that. Not that I haven’t enjoyed spending time with the others!” You rushed to add. “I just… wanted to spend time with you most.”

“Oh. Is tha’ right?”

“Mhm. You guys all seem pretty tight knit?”

Wrecker’s face lit up. “Oh we are. We were always the odd ones out so we kinda naturally stuck together, and then Echo joined and it was great. And then ‘Mega found us, and it got even better. Well, not better better, I mean we had all that stuff with the Empire, but we had ‘Mega with us. Most of the time. And then we got her back, and we got Crosshair back, and now Echo comes and goes and we miss him but- well, I’m- I’m ramblin’ aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind. Please,” you smiled and gestured for him to continue.

“Well, there’s not really much else to say. We’re always thrilled with Echo visits but he’s doin’ good work with Rex.”

“Who’s Rex?”

“Only the Captain ‘imself! He’s pretty great.”

“I think you’re pretty great.”

“Oh.”

You watched the tips of Wrecker’s ears flush. He was cute when he was nervous, you thought. Your mind played back to your interrupted chat. Biting your lip, you nudged closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. The muscles beneath his shirt tensed momentarily, and you couldn’t help but drift your eyes down to his chest.

Stars, he was gorgeous, wasn’t he?

“Well,” your eyes found his again. “Seeing as you’re all so close, I feel like you and I won’t get a lot of time just the two of us?”

He deflated. “Probably not.”

“But, maybe we could get away for a bit? You still up for those noodles?”

“You mean like a- a-“

“A date.”

Wrecker’s face lit up, unsure eyebrows lifting as he grinned. “Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”

You laughed. “Brilliant. We’ll fly out on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The two of you stayed at the unlit fireplace for some time more. As you chatted, your mind filled with the potential of your future date. Wrecker, of course, was jovial. His laugh consumed your lungs and you ended up laughing too. It seemed you’d caught the attention of the sweetest guy on the island, and you were glad for it.