Echo Bad Batch - Tumblr Posts

I really loved this project, it was fun to draw them all happy and healthy and enjoying themselves. The best part was trying to make new outfits for them.

Ppl think my boi would rather be paddling in swamps tryna guess a girl's name than leading an army & whipping men into fighting shape to defend his country smh

Note : If you guys think none of them are matching with him, you can add your own answer with reblog it or put it on the comments with your own opinion.

Taglist : @photogirl894 , @leosardonyx18 , @commander-tech , @queen-daya , @zaya-mo , @ambulance-mom , @aesira-of-orion , @thebadbatch2022 , @genericficerblog , @catcucumber-salad , @twinsunstars , @orion-tyche , @cassie-fanfics , @kanerallels

Vod went from "I know it's cool but no touching"

To "well I might as well teach you how to shoot safely & properly"

To "here's a much more powerful & portable weapon, knock yourself out"

I’ll see your echo is the mom friend fanon and raise you an echo is the cool aunt headcanon

the dad batch: *trying to give omega a childhood by finding safety and stability on pabu*

echo: hey kid just got back from saving clones with rex and I found this weapon that reminded me of you here you go

This is why I get so annoyed at fanfics that give Echo a second hand.

Disabilities aren't something you can just fix. They're something you have to learn and adapt to. Something that affects your entire life.

By removing Echos scomp, you are deciding that writing convenience is more important to you then character growth and disability representation.

Echo learnt and adapted to his new body. You shouldn't remove all his hard work just because you don't like having to write around his prosthetics.

There are literally thousands of other Clone troopers with two hands. Let disabled people have representation.

Let me tell you what an amazing job Star Wars did by giving us Echo

They gave us a traumatized physically disabled character, made him loving, caring, skilled and badass - and they “allowed“ his face to show the hardship he had to face. (Putting “allowed“ in quotes because obviously no one needs to be allowed to look the way they do.)

They gave him hollow cheeks, ashen akin and bags under his eyes and they weren’t tempted to “fix” him by changing his appearance over time.

I have some friends who have been through dramatic life-changing events like a heavy chemotherapy or the loss of a child, and they have their biography written all over their face. When you look at them you can see immediately that this is a person who had something happen to them. They have their happy moments like everybody else but even when they laugh you can see it, it is etched into their faces. What happened to them is a part of their biographies and always will be.

And that’s why I love how they made Echo. It gives those people who have been through something traumatic representation without raising unexpected expectations for them to finally get over it, “heal“ and get “healthy“ again. Not everyone can and they are just as beautiful and lovable as everybody else. 🫶🫶🫶

Was traveling & couldn't post on Echo day (14/09) but here's a lil tribute to bestest man in the galaxy ❤️🖤

I think a lot of people forget that Echo can be healed and happy without fitting into societies expectations of "healed disability" (AKA looking as able-bodied as possible.)

They think their doing good by "fixing" him with his skin tone and hair, or by giving him a prosthetic hand, but all they're actually doing is perpetuating that disabled people need to be and look as ""normal"" (huge quotations coz there is no looking normal) as possible to be healed.

Let Echo be. He's clearly adapted with his new body and doesn't want to change it.

A Big Shoutout to All Wrecker Girlies (G/N)!

I have NEVER seen any kind of fanart of Wrecker that shows him with hair “so he can be beautiful again“.

I have NEVER seen any Wrecker pictures that gave him a “decent“ prosthetic eye because someone felt that something’s wrong with the one he’s got.

I have NEVER seen any drawing of him that neglected / fixed his scars.

♥️ YOU ARE AMAZING! ♥️

You are a very special kind of people!

You just love your man the way he is, no questions asked! Just as it should be!

🫶 And that‘s why I love you! 🫶

Well hey there, golden eyes...

the last domino did not fall,

and they are so proud of him.

the last domino did not fall,

and they are so proud of him.

I love spending actual weeks on a drawing just to purposefully make it look like it was drawn in two seconds. (But that’s how I like it)

Starhawk Speeder Bike

He can pick me up anytime…

Taglist: @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @littlefeatherr @the-bad-batch-baroness @antoinettesb @neyswxrld @elephantwoman4 @goblininawig @sevdidntdie @proteatook

Echo‘s Right Arm…

…can‘t have a defined biceps or triceps.

Hyperspecific nerd post under the cut 🤓

I LOVE disability representation and can’t be normal about all the amazing artists that draw Echo‘s nub now and then 🥰 And I will continue to love these pictures whether they show him with or without a pronounced biceps and triceps, that’s for sure, so this is just for the people who love hyperspecific details:

Echo‘s right arm cannot have a pronounced biceps and triceps!

Echo had a transhumeral (i.e. above-elbow) amputation. Biceps and triceps are used to move the forearm - you train them by doing something like biceps curls and triceps dips. Echo, however, has no part of the forearm left and moves the scomp arm with a disc-shaped actuator of his prosthesis. His biceps and triceps are without function and thus cannot be trained anymore.

If you want to give him some definition at his right arm, give him a kicker deltoid! It won’t only look good and be in line with canon (see the picture above) but also makes sense: the body of an amputee doesn’t recognize a prosthesis as a part of itself which aggravates the perception of its weight. An amputee once described it to me as being similar to the difference between gaining weight and carrying the same weight in a backpack.

So wearing the scomp arm all day is like a very long workout. 🦾

Loved this idea and story...wish there was more to this though.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Jango Fett & the Clones, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Characters: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Jango Fett, Boba Fett, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch Additional Tags: Angst, Introspection, Kaminoans Being Assholes (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Reconditioning (Star Wars), Mind Manipulation, Post-Season/Series 01, Medical Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent Jango Fett, until the Kaminoans meddled, perceived character death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Hopeful Ending, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives are Twins, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Needs a Hug, Timeline What Timeline, I mess with them just a little, not noticeable just the Kamino years Series: Part 12 of Star Wars One-shots and unfinished WIPs. Summary:

Echo was the oldest of the Bad Batch, and he was sure they knew it. But he knew they didn’t know quite how much older he was. He was a lot older than they realised, he remembered things they weren’t alive for. And before she met them in that corridor, he remembered Omega.

SURPRISE SHAWTYYY

secondest one shot ever. echo's been growing on me recently icl y'all.

Brake Check

gif credit :)

rating/cw: teen, irl swears/star wars swearing, vague mentions of drugs, canon violence

3.6k words, gender neutral pronouns, zero use of y/n

i might keep this one going if i think up anything else. may or may not be based on my experiences at my own gig.

reblogs are always appreciated :)

The sun shone fiercely over the city, baking the industrial landscape in amber and gold. It was the closest that the durasteel and brick would ever get to being a part of nature, and in a way, the old buildings seemed thankful. Thankful to be unmoving against the planet’s own turmoil. To stand straight, stiff, and unforgiving against the gales that whipped through the streets like wind tunnels.

You very much wish you could be a building right now.

Contrasting to your surroundings, you were very much bothered by the sun in your eyes and wind in your hair. You squinted and kept a hand over your eyes as you puttered through the streets, gauging movement and distance by the tiled stonework on the ground. Your hair whipped at the corners of your face, always just out of reach when you went to swipe them away, giving way to a mood that the sun beating down on your neck was not helping.

Just a few more paces, a lock, and an alarm. You thought to yourself, mentally calibrating for the tasks following.

You were opening your store. At least, that’s what you’d tell anyone if they bothered asking. In reality, you were opening a store you were hired to manage. You were hired as a friendly, trustworthy face that was more or less just responsible for making sure nothing got stolen. The real owner, on the other hand, rarely could bother to make an appearance. So, by all customer accounts, it’s your store. The thought of this brought warmth to your chest.

Pride, albeit in fake ownership, but pride in your work nonetheless.

You found yourself at the front of the store. Large, ornate marble slabs stacked up to the door. Marble steps that were once a hallmark of the city, that dotted every home, now lay cracked, chipped, and closer to oyster gray than marble white.

You trudged to the front glass door. Opening it with a whine, the door found purchase on your hip as you flipped the plastic door sign to “Open”. You glance over at the keypad, and punch in your door code - 0501.

Immediately upon stepping into the small, darkened room, you’re greeted with shrill chirps. The piercing tones shot through the still air and bounced off the walls.

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’m coming.” You gripe, talking to the ancient security system that by no means would actually respond. You walk towards the corner of the small shop, eyeing a white panel with a dimly lit green screen. You grimace as you punch in your security code, trying not to become overstimulated by the alarm.

“Disarmed. Ready to arm.” A feminine robotic voice declares, and you hum in content as you turn around and begin to open up your store.

Flip those lights, plug that in, unlock the window guard, count the cash.

The mental list flashed through your mind, though it was almost immediately pushed out by a myriad of other thoughts. Your mind was abuzz, just like any other day. You glanced around at the small, cramped storefront. Your eyes raked the shelves, not looking for anything in particular, simply cataloging with your eyes. Your store sold mainly spaceship parts, among other things; though judging by the dust collecting on the deflector shield projectors, you’d almost be led to believe that no one on the planet had even scraped the sky.

You rounded a counter to make way to the register. The counter was an upside down L-shape, clear glass panes encasing a durasteel frame with sliding doors on the seller side. A smaller, similar-yet-straight case sat parallel on the right, making a perfect little square entrance for you to swing around. Such large display pieces seemed comically out of place in the small store front, as they essentially divided the room in half. Inside, the three rows that spanned the length of each side of the L were cluttered. Cluttered with trinkets that toppled over one another, as well as a handful of dubiously legal recreational products and their respective accessories. Those, along with the cigarettes in cartons behind you, were probably the only reason the lights above you were even on, albeit flickering occasionally and making a rather unfortunate buzz. You shook your head, and unlocked the small, dingy cash register in front of you.

Methodically counting cash, your eyes wandered to the bay window at the front of the store. Outside of it laid sun-bleached stone streets, with few inhabitants venturing out this early in the morning. Those that did, moved sluggishly from the heat or in a feeble attempt to resist it. Most of them looked familiar, usually having come in and bought something in the past. Or the odd few who follow a stricter morning routine than you do, seeing them stroll by every morning since you’d arrived however many cycles ago.

Same old, same old, huh? You thought to yourself. Monotony creeps up on the best of us, I suppose. You silently laugh to yourself, a quick huff of air leaving your nose.

As if the universe was listening in on your internal monologue, a speeder comes careening down the block, the engine body screaming as the bike chewed through the brake disks like meringue. Atop this banshee was a young girl, cream blonde hair whipping behind her as she screamed with delight. You had hoped it was delight at least, though you’d never heard someone giggling with fear. Immediately following her was another speeder, albeit in much less disarray and in much more control. The pilot was a tall, slender, pale man with some form of plating on his head, covering his ears.

“Omega, you HAVE to brake before you turn, you can’t just hit every corner like Tech does!” The man called out, though it was muffled from the glass.

You placed the cash back in the register and paced towards the door. Curiosity was your main driving factor, although if something happened to a child and you didn’t do anything… Well, you were sure your brain wouldn’t let you live it down.

You cracked the large door and peered out through the smaller glass door in front of it. You breathed out in relief, not realizing you were holding it in, as you saw the girl almost entirely unharmed.

“Echo, I’m fine! Plus, you said it yourself before we grabbed them that they looked like ‘hunks of junk’.” The girl made air quotes at her companion to emphasize her point. He, presumably named Echo, sighs in response, barely audible through the door but recognizable by the way his shoulders slumped. You couldn’t see it, as his back was to you, but the clone took his one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Wait, one hand?

You had seen your fair share of clones, both on your home planet and where you now found yourself. However, with his back to you, and with your eyes zeroing in on his scomp, you were none the wiser of the man outside your shop’s origins, other than his name probably being Echo.

The girl, which you assumed was named Omega, noticed you standing in your doorway.

“Maybe we can ask them for help” She spoke aloud, looking past her companion to look directly at you. You respond in part by opening the door and poking your head out.

“So, you crash in front of stores often?” You call out to the girl, smiling softly. Her companion turns around at the sound of your voice.

Hello there.

The man, now recognizable to you as a clone, was much more muscular than you had anticipated. With broad shoulders causing his pauldrons to peek out just a hair more. His hair was a buzz cut, the deep blue-black hue of his just-barely-there hair contrasting against his pale skin.

He waved his hand at you.

“I’m trying to not let her make it a habit but someone was recently taught what drifting was. Do you happen to sell speeder parts?” He punctuated his statement with a playful jab to the girl’s ribs, which elicited a giggle.

“As long as you don’t mind wiping dust off of them, I’m sure I can find something for y’all.” You replied, and you stepped out on the porch to open the door and let the two in. They quickly followed suit and headed towards you.

“I’m Omega by the way, and this is my big brother Echo.” The girl chirped as she walked by.

You smiled and gave your name in response. “Pleasure, it’s been a while since I’ve had real customers”.

“What’s a real customer?” She said, spinning around to look back at you once she filed into the small room.

“Someone actually buying parts, instead of what’s in the case.” You reply, as you turn your back and begin parsing the shelves for speeder brake parts. Immediately you regret this decision.

“What’s in the case?” Omega piped, and before you can turn around her face is pressed to the glass, memorizing its contents.

“Oh!—Uh, adult stuff, Omega. You really shouldn’t worry about it.” You said sheepishly, and you began to walk over to try and find something else for her to look at, but before you could Echo interjects.

“They’re right Omega, you have no business with this kind of stuff. Let’s just focus on the parts we need so we can get back to the ship before too long” He says, before clasping her on the back. She huffs, but obliges and stands up.

“So I have the parts you’re looking for, however the brakes come as a complete set. So you may end up with extras if you didn’t break the entire thing.” You explain, and waggle a box in the air.

“Judging by the sound when we came in, I’d imagine we’ll probably use the whole kit. I hope we don’t scare off too much foot traffic with the repairs.” Echo quipped, accompanied by a soft smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought the man was flirting with you.

“Foot traffic?” You fake gawk. “Ain’t from ‘round here huh?”

Echo chuckles, and his eyes shone a little bit lighter. The bright honey-brown was rather stark against his skin, making it even more difficult not to get lost in them. The normally-dull blue hue of the overhead plasma lights made them pop out a bit more now that you were inside.

“Well, in any case, we’ll be out front for a bit. Appreciate the help.” Echo nodded and began to take his leave with Omega in tow.

“Last I checked the sign out front didn’t say charity.” You spoke, holding back a laugh with your teeth on your bottom lip.

Echo stopped dead in his tracks, and paused for a moment to reflect on what you meant. He sighed when it finally dawned on him.

“My apologies. Omega, take this out front and start taking the speeder apart while I pay for this.” He handed the box to the girl, and she skipped out the door.

Echo walked up to the counter, albeit awkwardly. Like his hips were too heavy. That’s when you noticed his legs. Or rather lack thereof.

“The heat and humidity makes my joints lock up sometimes.” He stated, noting your staring. Your eyes went wide.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I had only noticed your scomp earlier when we were outside.” You said quickly, trying to alleviate any awkwardness. You had just met the man, you weren’t trying to immediately make a handsome stranger hate you.

“It’s nothing new for me, though I did appreciate the lack of disgust in your face” He joked, self-deprecatingly.

Your eyebrows shot up, a mixture of quizzical and confused. “Everyone in the galaxy has or knows someone with augmentation at this point. What makes yours so gross?” You replied, emphasizing ‘gross’ with a sarcastic voice.

The man shrugged. “Most clones don’t look like me.”

You nodded. “Not exactly a GAR approved clone preset, I gather?”

“Sort of, I guess? I got placed with an experimental clone unit during the war, seeing as how I didn't fit in with the regs anymore.” He responded, now talking with his hands and relaxing his posture. You typed in the total for the engine kit into the register.

“Regs?” You ask, not looking up, but still very much invested in the conversation.

“Regular clones. The ‘approved presets’ as you called them. My unit is nothing of the sort, so I saddled up with them.” He replied with ease, while fishing into one of his waist bags for his credit pouch.

“I see. Well, your total’s gonna be 635 credits.” You chirp, looking up at Echo’s face, only to watch it drop.

“Six thirty five?” He half whispered, somehow going a shade paler. He had about 350 credits left in his pouch after the sorely needed supply run. However, if he couldn't fix the speeder, it wouldn’t matter.

Sensing his trepidation, and also using the moment to steal a few glances at how his biceps push against his armor with his arms crossed, you got an idea.

“Tell you what. Give me what you got, and I’ll smooth over the rest if you take me to dinner” You said in a joking tone, testing the waters.

Echo’s ears tinged pink and his cheeks warmed up at the thought. He pretended not to notice the way you sized him up when you met a few moments ago, but something about your attention on him at that moment made his stomach trip over itself. That feeling piqued his curiosity, but his response was laced with trepidation.

“I honestly don’t even know where we’d go. I’ve never been planetside here, and I’m sure you don’t want to eat the ration bars let alone smell what’s on the ship”

You shrugged. “Beats the stale air here. Plus for as many parts as I carry, I’ve never actually been on a ship.” You felt rather sheepish at your white lie, your eyes scanning the floor.

“The Marauder it is. What time were you thinking?” Echo asked. You couldn’t see it, but his fingers were twitching against his thigh, and the back of his neck was bright red. He hadn’t been on a date since he was still with the 501st, and even then it was usually a random one-off with someone he met at 79’s. By then the alcohol would be long gone and he would realize he’d spent the previous night with someone with bantha-shit for brains.

“Honestly? I could help you with repairs and we could head out. Not like I’d be missing out on any money.” You reply coolly, trying your best to have a ‘we can do whatever’ attitude as you leaned your weight onto one hip and cocked your head.

Inside, you were having ironically the same conundrum as Echo. You hadn’t been on a date in Force knows how long, your work clothes weren’t exactly date material, and holy kriff how did that actually work? You said it on a whim, ready to laugh it off to him and sob into your pillow about it later. Your brain had finally caught up to what you were up to, who you were now going on a date with, what you were doing, how you got there, and how his kid little sister wrecking outside your store was the best thing that could’ve happened.

“Are you gonna help me put this bike back together or are you two gonna flirt all day?!” A shrill voice called from outside.

Right, Omega, kriff.

Both you and Echo flinch and sigh at the sound of her voice. The temperature in the room also seemed to rise a few degrees, even if only for the two of you. You sigh, grabbing the credits Echo left on the counter and lock up the register. You make your way around the counter, and join him as he makes his way towards the door.

Once again faced with his back, your eyes wander down to where his hips meet his metal lower half. Somehow, his blacks tuck neatly into them, or maybe they’re clipped somewhere, you don’t know. You stifle a small laugh at the thought.

As you make your way outside, the thought crosses your mind of Echo’s legs having built in shirt fasteners. Then, before you can stop yourself, you let out a giggle at the thought of Echo having garters for his blacks underneath the armor and over his robotic legs.

Echo turns around at the sound. His eyebrow is raised quizzically, but his eyes betray him. He looks a little sad, worried that you’re laughing at him or Omega or their situation.

Noticing his composure change, you are now forced to have your queries answered.

“How do your blacks stay on if you don’t have them on your lower half? I thought it was like a jumpsuit?”

Echo was bewildered at the question. He cocked his head, and then settled on a response.

“They just .. fit? Like the shirt sits where it’s, supposed to? And it doesn’t move.” He shrugged, never having put much thought into it. “What about that made you laugh?”

“I imagined you having little garters or fasteners on the legs underneath.” You quietly replied, looking at the ground, mildly embarrassed.

Now it was Echo’s turn to laugh. His nose crinkled and he squeezed his eyes shut, and you made a mental note of the sound that came out of the sweet man’s mouth.

“Very funny. Echo can you please put this brake back on?” Omega piped up, exasperated. She loved her brother dearly and was very amused to see him interacting with you in such a manner, however she didn’t anticipate this would require her soloing her speeder rebuild.

“Sorry kiddo, I got you.” Echo crouched down and rested his hands on his knees, surveying what work Omega had done in his leave. She had actually finished about ¾ of the work, and Echo made a mental note to thank Tech profusely for his tutelage when they got back to the ship.

While he made quick work of what was left of the speeder, Omega busied herself with getting to know you. She plopped herself on your front stoop, and materialized some Mantell Mix from inside her jacket pocket. She threw a handful in her mouth, but before proceeding to chew she primed you with one of soon to be dozens of questions.

“Why’d you set up shop here?”

You frowned slightly, as there was no fun answer to this question. The Siege drove everyone off of Mandalore, if they survived. This planet just happened to be in the same section of The Rim and was taking refugees. Setting up a shop was never in the cards on your home world, but despite your utter lack of knowledge of retail, you relished the opportunity to do something different. Start completely anew. Though a part of you balked at sharing your past, this young girl seemed wiser than she let on and you enjoyed actually talking to someone outside of the usual “How are you” “Good, thanks” “Your total’s 45 credits” “Have a good day”. So, against your better judgment, you indulged her.

“Well, Mandalore doesn’t really exist, at least in its full capacity,” You sucked in your teeth. “And I didn’t trust that old Coruscanti freighter to leave the star system. Plus, the owner of the place doesn't like people too much and would rather just collect a paycheck.” You shrugged.

Upon mention of Mandalore, a thunk came from the speeder. Not loud enough to draw your attention over, thank Force, but enough to be heard. It was Echo dropping a tool. While Kamino wasn’t as much of a home to him as he imagined you would regard Mandalore, it was a similar weighty feeling. If all else failed, there was nowhere for either of you to go. There was no home. Sure, The Marauder and your little studio apartment were where the two of you resided, but that’s not where you’re from. Plus, it’s kind of difficult to compare a ship and a box room barely bigger than the storefront to an entire planet.

“This isn’t your store?” Omega replied, sensing it easier to focus on the latter half of your statement. You shook your head.

“For all intents and purposes, it’s mine. I run the day to day, order the products, harass people to actually get it delivered, everyone knows it’s me who runs it. But I don’t own it, no.”

Omega nodded in understanding, and was immediately buried in thought. Her dark brows knitted together as her brain formulated questions faster than she could ask. She nodded once more, seeming to have landed on a fitting one. But before she could ask, Echo piped up.

“The brakes are fixed up. We should be able to head back to the ship” Echo began to get up, but before he turned around he shot a question that you were dreading. Well, more of a statement.

“I thought you said you’ve never been on a ship?”

You gawked at him and then trained your eyes to the ground, suddenly very interested in the species of weeds that had taken hold in the cracks of the ground. You didn’t have any good excuses, and you’d already been caught in one lie.

“Got you to say ‘yes’ to the date, didn’t it?” You muttered weakly, knowing that this could very well end in him cursing you out and leaving you to your lonely little shop.

Echo sighed. He didn’t like lying, but the reason for it warmed his cheeks. He realized you just wanted an ‘in’. To hang out with him, of all people. He wasn’t used to someone, anyone, making that kind of effort to spend time with him.

“It did, though I’d have probably said yes otherwise.” It was his turn to reply coolly and pretend that his heart’s not in his throat for even uttering the words. He coughs in a feeble attempt to clear it. “Either way, are you two ready?”

You nodded and looked at Omega, who responded by excitedly getting up and hopping on her speeder. Echo walked a few feet, and grabbed his own by the handlebars. Before you could ask who you were riding with, he re-parked the bike in front of where you were standing so you could easily step off of the curb and onto the back.

“When’d you get smooth?” You chide, grabbing Echo’s shoulder for leverage as you kicked your leg over the side. Your feet found purchase above the altitude controls, gripping the cargo compartment with your legs to maintain balance. You brought your hands down and let them rest in your lap as Echo kicked over the ignition.

“Since I found a reason to be smooth.”

by the recommendation of exactly two (2) people i’m making the echo one shot (x) a liiiiiiittle bit longer so i thought i’d put a lil snippet here :P

Brake Check: Chapter 2 snippet

gender neutral pronouns, no use of y/n, teen(??) rating

The sun had begun to slump lazily in the sky. Outcroppings of clouds blotted around it, allowing the rays to gleam down rather than the barrage of heat from early this morning. Hues of bronze and amber were slathered across the atmosphere, partly due to the dust in the air. Here past the city limits, one became acutely aware of the planet’s true climate. Roves of sand and limestone were all the eye would be met with for miles. Large, twisted succulents shot randomly out of the ground, their insides bitter and viscous with water from a long many cycles ago. The stubborn fauna was a mirror image of the people that inhabited this planet. Fierce and unyielding, hoarding what little resources are to be found, if only to assure survival for longer than tonight.

While the sun had dipped in severity, your emotions seemed to not get the memo. In fact, your heart was rattling your ribcage and wracking your nervous system. In a matter of hours you had your first customers in days, albeit shallow pocketed, and instead of doing the proper salesperson-like thing and talking Echo down to another product, you ran his pockets and asked him out.

And he said yes.

Well, not in those words. But it wasn’t a No. Or a Sure, why not. And that’s more than enough for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Echo was relying on the speeder handlebars to maintain his grip on reality.

Echo tried not to get his hopes up whenever he noticed wandering eyes on him in the past. He’d said it jokingly, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was just happy you weren’t looking at him in disgust.

Or worse, someone to pity.

You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his metal arm and scomp. You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his gait on the way to the counter. Hell, you didn’t even make mention of the piece wrapping around his skull. He didn’t even have to ask.

And now you were wrapped around his back, pushing your weight into him as he ripped across the wastes. Your arms were slinked around his core, hands folded and your pinky ghosting across the tip of his navel. While Echo’s own hands on the speeder was his current tether to reality, the warmth of your hands was equally coaxing him back out. Coaxing him backwards to rest his shoulder blades on your chest, coaxing him to let go of the handlebars, coaxing him to close his eyes, savor the moment. But he doesn’t. The same steadfast, battle-tested resolve that made him an ARC Trooper, all of that resolve, is being called upon at this moment.

Echo flicked the gear shift forward and pressed his foot down evenly, eyes honing in on the gray dot of the Marauder coming into view on the horizon.

HALLO :D

i do apologize that i didn't have a snippet out like i wanted but, compromise, here's the whole damn thing. i also switched some stuff around in ch2 for continuity reasons :3

i got very very busy with prepping for an art faire (if anyone knows where to get cheap high quality prints let a mf know PLSSS) and i was muy busy. but we're back. and echo's a sweet dork.

mando'a translations!

ke'pare - wait/hold on

ge'tal - red

vor'e - thanks

udesii - chill out/its okay

gender neutral pronouns, no y/n usage, only main descriptor im sticking to about the reader is that you're ginger. cus i am. sorry nerds.

-immediately follows the events of the preceding chapter-

You were fighting back a smile. You had no idea that some of the clones knew Mando’a, let alone that the Mandolorian-adoptee turned clone-donor Jango Fett was taught during his short time on your home planet. You wondered if it was something the Kaminoans decided or if they all went about teaching themselves in Jango’s honor. The idea of a bunch of clone soldiers sitting around a Mando’a children’s dictionary makes the smile stitching onto your face that much harder to fight.

“I’m sorry about Tech. He can be, ah, a lot.” Echo grimaced while swiveling around the copilot’s seat, presenting it to you.

You obliged, and sat down. “Oh he’s fine. There’s plenty of topics I could infodump about, just as annoyingly. I just have a bad habit of my thoughts becoming verbal.” You shook your head, soft auburn tresses flicking about. The lights from the cockpit glinted around the natural highlights of your hair, and it didn’t escape Echo’s gaze.

The man cleared his throat. “Still, I appreciate you being so accommodating of my brothers. Nat-borns don’t seem to get it, you know?”

You furrowed your brow and cocked your head slightly to the left, looking him in the eyes. While he didn’t physically shudder, you could see the slight panic pulse in his iris when you met his gaze.

“Where do you think clones get their camaraderie and brotherhood from?”

Echo shrugged. “Kaminoans, I presume?”

You barked a laugh. “Well, yes. Ke’pare, what did they tell you guys about Mandalore?”

“Not much. Jango was around for the first few years, but I rarely saw him. He didn’t seem to hold much emotion for the regs. He seemed to like the higher ups, but I didn’t become an ARC Trooper until I was shipped off that wet rock.” Echo finally slumped into his chair opposing you. As he spoke, he slowly relaxed into his seat, his hinges quietly scraping together as he moved. Once again his amber eyes met yours, a new twinkle seeming to arrive.

“You know more than you let on, ge’tal.” Echo said, narrowing his gaze.

He seemed to be sizing you up. Trying to parse out his next line of questioning. Truthfully, you were better at it than him. While his observation skills have been battle-tested, the ease in which you peppered questions at him showed years of practice he was simply unable to acquire. Outside of the occasional conversation at 79’s or a senator he was required to escort, Echo’s entire social sphere only extends to his brothers. You made him nervous. In a very good way.

You blushed at the newly acquired nickname. “I prefer to call it ‘not showing my full hand’, but I’ll slide a few cards your way since you seem cute.”

The back of Echo’s neck started to bloom a soft red. He rubbed a palm on his knee, mindlessly self soothing. “Seem? What, the gray skin and hollow cheeks not working their magic?” He joked, gesturing to each feature respectively with a pointed index finger.

“You seem to deflect compliments because you can’t believe them, so I was starting small.” You extended your own index finger and poked at his shoulder, annunciating the seem.

The now-scarlet tint of Echo’s neck began to creep towards his face. Eyes darting towards the floor, he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He pressed his lips together for a moment. The only thing he got out was a weak “Vor’e.”

“Udesii. I came here, didn’t I?” Your face softened. Echo’s almost immediate vulnerability around you made your knees feel like jelly, and you were sending a silent prayer somewhere that you were both sitting down. “You’re not gonna scare me off, but you can’t immediately go cracking jokes just ‘cus I said you’re handsome.” You continued. Soft, yet firm. You weren’t allowing Echo to talk poorly of himself, even in jest.

Echo nodded, meeting your gaze once more. He looked off for a moment, seemingly in thought, before returning your gaze and asking softly: “How do you always know what to say?”

You let out one quick heh. “Since I found someone to give the words to.” You reply cheekily.

Echo smiled once more and dipped his head. “Walked into that one huh?”

You both smiled, and a comfortable silence began to envelope the two of you. Both of you were looking out on the horizon. The sky was a deep pink and purple haze, stippled with the indigo hues of the impending twilight. Echo was scanning the distance, as if anything alive would be out there, let alone a threat. You were content watching the 2 ½ clouds in the sky move millimeters at a time, but something told you to look at your companion. Gazing at him, your eyes slowly roved up his face. His jaw was set in a defined line, lightly gritted in concentration. His cheeks were hollow, but his cheekbones sat quite prominently, catching the light. This, juxtaposed with his deep set eyes, allowed the light to dance right at the forefront of his face. As if a candle was eye level with him, across the room.

“See anything cool?” You finally speak, hoping Echo didn’t catch you staring.

“Nah, perimeter check. I’m sure all I’ll see is bones and dirt but, old habits die hard.” He replied, not looking away. After a beat, he nodded, and seemingly relaxed the scrutinous gaze he had moments ago.

“Huh. So, what makes your squad different from the other clones, other than haircuts, tattoos, and builds?” You change the subject.

“Being experimental meant the Kaminoans could enhance certain characteristics. Wrecker’s strength, Tech’s smarts, Crosshair’s accuracy, and Hunter’s senses.” Echo spun his chair to face you and threw one leg over the other.

“Huh.” You think for a moment before replying. “So you think Hunter heard us approach?”

Echo nodded. “And I’m willing to bet he’s going to call me a serf for the next 3 rotations.”

You barked out a laugh before realizing his implication. A hand shot over your mouth and your eyes grew wide.

The man laughed. “Just be glad he’s not close enough to hear your heartbeat.”

“What CAN’T he hear?” You said, mildly exasperated. “How do you get any privacy?”

“He’s got noise canceling headphones but that’s mainly for his own sanity. Wrecker got them for him after his snoring kept him up for 3 days in a row.” You laughed at that, and Echo felt a twinge of pride before continuing. “He showed up in the cockpit one morning with his bandana over his nose and Omega had to ask him about his new fashion choices.”

You let out a series of giggles at that, holding your stomach slightly as you lean forward into it. If your eyes weren’t scrunched shut, you would’ve seen Echo’s face bloom in 4 different shades of pink. Every single part of him was committing this to memory. The way your eyes crinkled at the sides. The way your cheeks almost wanted to push your eyes out of their sockets. He never wanted this to end, the sounds of your joy echoing across the hold of the Marauder.

——————

Hours had passed, the sun well below the horizon by this hour. The sky was peppered with numerous constellations and star systems, the names of which always seeming to escape you. The deep blue sea of sky felt more vast than ever in your little perch aboard the Marauder.

You and Echo went back and forth, sharing tidbits from your respective lives up until this point. You learned about the Rishi Moon incident that gave Echo his ARC status, he learned about the Siege that gave way to your arrival here. He told you about the Domino Squad, you told him about your own clan’s untimely demise. Hours of stories shared back and forth, as if you were both once stationed on the same battlefield and then whisked away, only to be brought back together once more after all these years. But there was no mutual history to draw upon this familiarity from. The two of you just fell into a steady rhythm. One that you’d individually practiced and honed for years, like a song that was never intended for a duet, only for the two to sound identical.

“...And that’s where I learned Keldabe Handshakes are applicable as a neutralizing tactic across species.” You finished, explaining the first and only time a Shriek-Hawk has successfully taken you off guard.

“Charming.” A voice hissed, and then a pair of boots dropped to the ground with a soft thunk. “Echo, shouldn't you be putting your toys away? It’s late.” Crosshair slunked into the cockpit, seemingly from the shadows. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I must be a pretty expensive toy to trade for speeder brakes.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised you’ve never been with someone and lost track of time, Cross. That does tend to require social skills and, y’know, liking people?” Echo crossed his arms and stared his brother down.

“Well unless they’re taking your bunk, you should tell Tech someone’s joining him in the cockpit tonight. It’s too late to take them back now.” Crosshair seemed to spit the last part of the sentence, annoyed that someone else is in his space and bothering his brothers. While you understood hesitancy, you felt as if he reveled in his current position rather than proceeding with caution.

Echo turned to you and looked into your eyes softly. “It’s up to you.”

“I’m already cramping an already small ship. I can kick it up here with Tech for the night.” You said, smiling. While you very badly wanted to just crawl into Echo’s bunk with him, you weren’t doing that the first day. Plus, you don’t know how Echo feels about his personal space, or his sleeping positions, or if he prefers one side of the b—

“How touching.” Crosshair cut off your thoughts with the remark. He spun on his heel, and disappeared just as quickly as he appeared. Echo sneered at the doorway.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping up here. Like I said, Tech can be a lot sometimes.” Echo looked back at you, eyes full of worry.

“Tell you what, I’ll come get you if he’s being too much and we can switch, okay?” You compromise, getting the understanding that Echo’s going to worry either way.

“Deal.” Echo said firmly with a nod, and stands up. “For as much of a dick as he is, Crosshair’s right, it is rather late.” You nod and shrug slightly in agreement.

Echo turns to you and leans down. “Try and get some rest.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek before turning on his heel and borderline speeding out of the room.

When the door shuts automatically, you ghost your hand along your cheek, and an uncontrollable smile breaks across your face.

I think he likes me.

I THINK, THEREFORE I AM

if you saw the og upload with the tiktok watermark no you didnt

massive fucking shout out to @cloned-eyes for this piece that inspired this edit and subsequently has not left my brain folds since they uploaded it.

echo, pulling up in a 2001 honda odyssey with a large CRISP diet coke from sonic (special ice™️), patiently waiting for 15mg of hydroxyzine to kick in: get in loser we're starting a rebellion

So I’m drinking an extra crispy Diet Coke and I was wondering which member of the bad batch would go absolutely WILD for an extra crispy Diet Coke? And are they enjoying it with or without lemon?

tcw/bb fandom i promise i haven't abandoned you but the book of bill came out right before i went on vacation soz

BUT

i have a 5 hour flight on tuesday. so i'm gonna hope and pray i can come up with an echo snippet for yall 🕺

(BANGS HEAD AGAINST THE TOWN CHURCH BELL) HEAR YE HEAR YE CLONE FUCKERS

im back :P

cw: swearing, mild nsfw (over the clothes! make room for jesus!)

mando'a ->

galaar(s) - hawk(s)

You spun the cockpit chair around and faced the wastes once more. The events of the last few hours rippled through your brain, sending little shockwaves down your spine. Nothing about today was what you expected, nor anything you could’ve planned for. And that excited you. Echo excited you.

The door whooshing open cut off your thoughts.

“I do hope that my companionship tonight isn’t a disturbance.” A cold, matter of fact voice spoke from behind you.

“If you’re any warmer than Crosshair, you ain’t got nothing to worry about.” You reply, slightly turning your head to see Tech appear in your peripheral.

The man let out a small huff from his nose and sat down in the pilot’s chair, pulling a datapad out from a bag on his waist. He settled further back into the chair, becoming almost instantly absorbed in an article about Force-knows-what.

You sat back into your own chair sheepishly, unsure of how to maneuver with this Batch mate. Tech seems rather detached, and, to you, seemingly removed from the need for companionship. Granted, you were wrong, but how would you know that? But this alleged detachment did nothing to stop you, in fact it spited you to try and make friends with Echo’s brother. Everyone else seems to find you decent, for kriff’s sake.

Here goes nothing.

“What’chya reading?” You pipe up, rather abruptly. Tech looks up from his datapad and out the windows, not making eye contact.

“I overheard you mention Shriek-Hawks to Echo earlier and I wanted to familiarize myself with them. I’m impressed.”

You stuck out your lower lip and nodded. Not what you were expecting, that’s for sure.

“I’m surprised. The way Echo described you I would’ve expected you to rattle off facts about those damn galaars.”

Tech dipped his head. “Not necessarily. My closest encounter with them is the insignia on a former clone captain’s helmet.”

That shot your head up. You turned and peeked over at the clone, who was still focused on his surroundings. Mildly incredulous, you spoke. “Who was badass enough to earn Jaig Eyes?”

“CT-7567, Captain Rex. Bestowed to him by your people training mine on Kamino.” He replied, finally turning to look at you. “Does this bother you?”

You tilted your head slightly to the left. “Not at all. I don’t doubt the clones’ abilities,” You say, gesturing to the man in front of you and the ship you were both in. “Just those of us planetside didn’t hear much about the trainers that were shipped off to Kamino.”

Tech nodded in understanding, bringing a hand up to his chin to ponder. “That doesn’t surprise me. Even on the Republic side much of those records were either sealed, archived, or outright deleted.”

You both let out a collective sigh.

“As much as I enjoy learning history from a real person that it impacted, it does make me sad that none of this will be in written history in 5 years.” You say in a low voice.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He replied glumly.

With that, both of you resolved to an agreeable silence, only broken by Tech’s occasional taps onto his ‘pad. As quickly as the silence came, so too did the thoughts of the clone who only recently departed from your company.

The feeling of Echo’s back pushed against your chest was the first to make itself known. How he would occasionally lean back into the touch if he was on a rather straight strip of limestone. A warm, blossoming feeling extended out from your ribcage. Not one that tied your stomach in knots and made you worry about your hair or if you said something dumb. It was one that felt like a warm blanket, one woven by hand with good intentions in every stitch. Something more real, more tangible, more safe. Echo made you feel safe.

Wait, what?

That realization was slightly weightier than you were expecting to have about someone you met less than 12 hours ago. And that warm chest feeling? Quickly made its way to your stomach.

You swallowed quickly, not letting anything leave your stomach by either route. “Hey Tech? Y’all got a refresher aboard this thing?” You try your hardest to not let your voice give you away.

“Down the hall to the left, right before the bunks. Let me know if you need anything.” The latter half of that sentence was barely audible as you speed walked towards the other side of the ship, throwing a quick “Thanks!” over your shoulder as you went.

To the left, just before the bunks.

You mentally reminded yourself, trying to not let yourself spiral.

You can’t catch feelings this quickly, not again.

The words are murky in your head, lost in the sound of blood rushing through your ears. Before you realize, you’ve shut the door and you’re gripping the metal sink in front of you as if it’s the only thing tethering you planetside.

You let out a shaky breath, slowly tipping your head upwards to steal a glance at yourself in the mirror.

Get a fucking grip dude.

One moment to yourself, and you’re thinking about how his touch felt? Two moments into THAT and you’re about ready to hurl up the Mantell Mix that Omega force fed you.

You turn the faucet on with both handles. Best case scenario, you have lukewarm water to slap your face with. Worst case, something to muffle the sound of you hurling. You try to cup some water, but something in you relaxes your hands and allows the water to run through your fingers. You stare at it, unreacting. You slowly recoil your hands, slinking down to the floor as you do so. Your back finds purchase on the cold, durasteel wall, unchanging from every other part of the ship you’ve since discovered. In a way, it’s comforting. You know what to expect with ships. Unemotional, cold, hunks of metal that’ll eventually blow or go up and need maintaining and tending to. Those are easy to fix.

Not like I was taught to fix much else anyhow. Dunno what I expect out of myself.

You slumped further into the wall, tilting your head back and trying to even out your breathing. Slowly, yet surely, you were leveling out your own heart rate and coming back down.

And then someone had to politely rap on the bathroom door.

You immediately shot up to your feet. You shook your head in the mirror, trying to set your curls in a less frantic looking manner. You shook the last of the water droplets from your hands and tapped the control panel.

The door whooshed open, and you were greeted by a pair of soft, worry-filled eyes. Echo’s shoulders slumped a little bit when he processed what he was seeing.

“Did Tech say something weird? I promise, he didn’t mean anything by–”

“What? No! No, no.” You interrupted, eyes wide. “Can we talk?”

Echo’s brows furrowed together, but he relented. He stepped into the now-smaller bathroom, and looked at you patiently.

You sat down and crossed your legs, and looked at the man expectantly. He followed your lead.

“So, what did I do?”

“Echo, you didn’t do anything. Tech didn’t do anything. The only one that I can really hold anything against is Crosshair but I’m getting the perception that he’s just like that.” You reply quickly, waving your hand at your companion dismissively.

“Oh.” He replied bluntly, cocking his head slowly. He did not know how to proceed.

“I, uh, think I wanna do this with you again. But that kind of scares me.” You say sheepishly, staring holes into the floor in front of you. “I don’t know what that’s going to look like, and I don’t even know how it’d work, and I don’t even know if you want to. But I like you, and I’d rather tell you than hurl all over your bathroom.”

Echo’s eyes went wider with each passing word. The ramifications of what you had said were whirling through his head, forcing your words to hang in the air. Though you scanned his face for any emotion, all you could parse was he was deep in thought. You immediately deflated. You knew it was too early, too fast, too soon. Like every other single time. What were you thinking? You said it yourself, you barely know the m—

Echo grabbed your hand and yanked you from your thoughts.

“I like you too. I thought I was being crazy, ‘cus we just met, but, you feel different. I feel like you see me, and I’d really like the chance to be able to see you.”

Your gaze broke from the floor and met his head on. Bright pink bloomed from your ears and rippled across your cheeks.

“Now you’re not just saying that so you don’t have to pay for more speeder parts, right?” You goad, lowering your eyelids and letting your lashes dance in front of your eyes. Your confidence was careening back in, and you trade out your usual joking tone for something a bit more flirtatious.

“..No.” Echo cleared his throat. Oh he likes eye contact huh? “I’m trying to work my way up to getting a hyperdrive out of the deal”

You grabbed both of his hands. “I think I could manage two if you’re real good.” You punctuated your statement with a hand squeeze and shifting yourself closer to him.

“Only if I’m good huh?” Echo’s voice took on a darker, huskier tone. He stared right through you, eyelids heavy.

“That’s what I said, but I’d love to see you be bad.” You bite back, eyes darting between his lips and eyes. You knew what you wanted. But you weren't going to be the one to break. So you were going to break him.

And oh did you break Echo. Unable to contain himself, he closed the distance between the two of you and crashed his lips into yours. He was hungry, and you greedily accepted. Both of you needed this, and ached for it. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, eliciting a quiet moan from you. This made the clone shiver deep in his core, letting his arm slip around your waist and pull you closer. You took this in stride, and pulled yourself onto his lap. The unexpected shift to his colder, metal legs made you yelp, and he took the chance to swipe his tongue into your mouth. The feeling made your eyes roll back, and you part your lips obediently. He laps at your tongue, telling you to follow his lead. You tilt your head back to allow him more access, and his hand immediately finds its way to the back of your head to hold you in place.

Echo pulls his face away from yours, eyes blown wide and still breathing from parted lips.

“Maybe let’s not do this in the bathroom?”