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It had been a little over a year now since the Bad Batch had been back together on Pabu. At first, Echo had spent a lot of time with Rex and others, working for the Rebellion against the Empire, but after almost two years, he had finally decided to return to his family, the Bad Batch, full-time. He still lent a hand when Rex needed him, but that was about four or five missions a year.
And if he had enjoyed fighting the Empire, it was on Pabu, with the others, that he felt best, even if he felt like he was doing nothing. And he had felt very guilty about that when he had made this decision.
“You deserve it, Echo.” Rex had said when Echo had confided in him. “I can’t think of anyone more deserving of retirement than you. Your whole life so far, you’ve fought tirelessly. For the Republic, against the Techno Union, for the Republic again and now against the Empire. You have the right to want to slow down. You have the right to want to be selfish and do what pleases you, without worrying about anything else. You have the right to do what you want. You’ve spent so much time surviving, kih’vod, that you have the right to live.”
These words had calmed Echo a little and he had decided to return home, since he finally had a home, with the Bad Batch.
And he’d been living full-time on Pabu for a year now. Life on the island was unlike anything Echo had ever known. Here, there were no battles to fight, no droids to destroy, and no danger around every corner. Instead, there was peace, joy, and time. Lots of time.
For all of them, it took a while to adjust to this radical change in their lives. But it was a change for the better, and everyone was better for it.
Omega finally had the chance to be a normal child, even though she regularly talked about wanting to join the Rebellion against the Empire when she grew up.
Hunter had discovered a passion for fishing and spent hours with the fishermen of Pabu.
Tech was taking time to recover from the injuries he sustained on Eriadu after executing his Plan 99 and was also beginning to develop a serious relationship with Phee Genoa, the pirate (though she preferred the term liberator of ancient wonders) who had introduced them to Pabu.
Wrecker had discovered a passion for crocheting and could spend hours with his yarn balls, crocheting whatever came into his head. He had made a few blankets for his brothers and sister and tried his hand at a sweater or two, but what he enjoyed most was making stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes, which he then sold at the Pabu market.
Crosshair, for his part, had discovered that he really enjoyed cooking. Having only eaten rations or ready-made meals their entire lives, the Batch had never really had the opportunity to cook, and when Crosshair tried it, he found himself enjoying it. But while the sniper loved cooking, he hated having company when he was in the kitchen. To be more precise, he hated it when people commented on what he was cooking, how he was doing it, and so on. He also couldn’t stand cooking with anyone else. He didn’t mind cooking for the Batch all the time, but if anyone ever entered the kitchen while he was there, especially without asking permission, the sniper would disappear at the speed of light and don’t even expect to see him again until the next meal. Fortunately, the kitchen, although open to the room, was separated by a half-height bar, which meant that his brothers and sister could chat with him without encroaching on his territory.
Echo, meanwhile, tended their garden, but hadn’t really found what he enjoyed doing outside of that. He took time for himself, happy to assist his brothers and sister in discovering the freedom they now possessed. He gave Wrecker feedback on his creations, tasted Crosshair’s food when asked, listened to Omega talk about her days at school, looked at the fish Hunter brought home, and accompanied Tech in his discovery of love.
An old Togruta who lived on Pabu long before the Batch had once compared him to a mother. Too busy encouraging her children to find a hobby of her own. Echo hadn’t really known what to make of this remark at first, but in the end, he recognized himself in it, and it suited him.
On this early winter morning, everything was fine. Omega had left for school like every other morning, Hunter accompanying her on the way to the port. Wrecker was on the couch, crocheting dozens and dozens of little tookas. Tech, for his part, had decided not to get up right away. With the temperature getting cooler, his injuries were sometimes more painful, and since he had nothing planned today, he had decided not to inflict the pain that getting up and getting dressed caused him. In any case, to do Force knows what on his datapad, he was as comfortable in his bed, surrounded by countless cushions, as he was on the couch.
Crosshair, meanwhile, was heading toward the kitchen when Echo came in from the garden, a basket of dirty vegetables in his left hand.
“Ah, I was going to wash the vegetables.” Said the cyborg. “Can I do it or do you need the sink?”
Crosshair didn’t respond verbally but critically eyed his brother’s harvest before continuing into the kitchen.
Echo took that as the confirmation it was and went to stand at the large sink, putting the dirty vegetables in and grabbing a brush that attached to his bionic arm.
“Should I put the vegetables away or do you use them?" Echo asked once the vegetables were dug up.
“Leave them there.” Crosshair replied, taking some meat out of the fridge.
Echo nodded and left the vegetables by the sink and then walked out of the kitchen, sitting on one of the high stools, leaning on the bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the room.
“What are you doing for us today?” He asked curiously, watching his younger brother pull out a whole bunch of spices.
“Tiingilar. And yes, I’ll make a less spicy version for those with baby throats.” Crosshair snickered, raising his voice slightly to be heard by all his brothers.
“I’ll point out that those who can’t stand the levels of spice you love to add to your cooking don’t have ‘baby throats,’ as you so aptly put it, by choice. Have part of your digestive system starved and then replaced or simply removed, and you can comment on our so-called ‘baby throats.”’ Tech corrected from his room, the door of which was open so as not to isolate him completely.
Crosshair didn’t reply but smirked. Clearly, he’d been expecting Tech’s remark and wasn’t disappointed.
Echo didn’t respond, lost in thought at what Tech had said. Echo was one of those in the Batch who couldn’t eat as spicy food as the others because of his weakened digestive system. Lola Sayu’s explosion combined with the “treatment” provided by the Separatists had permanently damaged his intestine, leaving him with a gastrostomy and an ileostomy. His stomach hadn’t originally suffered from the explosion, but months and months of starvation had damaged that part as well. It had taken several months of a strict and adapted diet for Echo to be able to eat solid food again, but he hadn’t fully recovered his digestive functions to the level they had been before The Citadel.
Echo was startled out of his thoughts when a piece of potato hit him in the forehead, making him jump. The cyborg blinked and noticed that Crosshair was now chopping said vegetables.
“You’re thinking too hard.” The sniper muttered, still glancing worriedly at his older brother.
Echo chose not to answer but shook his head as if to disturb the bad thoughts and refocused on Crosshair, watching his movements.
And that’s when he noticed that his right hand, his bionic hand, seemed to be bothering him.
“You know Tech can recalibrate your hand in no time if you tell him it’s bothering you. And if it takes more than recalibration, I’m pretty sure he has at least two more prototypes in the works.” Echo remarked.
Crosshair didn’t answer but Echo knew he heard him, so he didn’t press the issue.
“Do you ever miss it?” The sniper finally asked, without looking up from what he was doing.
“Hmm?” Echo inquired.
“Your right hand. And your legs, and the rest too.”
The sniper didn’t elaborate on his question further, but Echo understood completely and took a good moment to think about his answer, knowing it was important to his brother.
“Sometimes.” Echo agreed. “Especially at first, actually. In the few months after Skako Minor, I would often reach for something with my right hand, only to find myself stuck because I no longer had a hand on my right, only a scomp. But little by little, I got used to it and accepted that this bionic limb was part of me. And besides the tactical advantage my scomp gave us during missions, I got used to it and found ways to use it. The scomp is actually very useful for stabbing my beloved little brothers in the ribs, much more so than a hand. And even though it frustrated me at first, I’m glad I didn’t start right away with a bionic hand.”
“Why?” Crosshair asked, frowning. “A bionic hand would have been more suitable to replace the one you lost.”
“True. But my scomp or my bionic hand are not there to replace my old hand identically. Because even if Tech is a genius, it’s very difficult to recreate a biological hand in a robotic version. Prosthetics are there to make life easier and they allow you to find a new normal after an injury, not to return to the way it was before. And in my case it also taught me not to use my right arm too much because with the state my shoulder is in, if I try to use my right arm like my left, I wouldn’t last a week before injuring my shoulder even more. With my scomp I couldn’t carry anything heavy with just my right arm so I learned to do it differently and that’s still how I do it now that I have a bionic hand.”
“Why do you have a bionic hand then if you got used to your scomp?”
“Aside from the fact that I don’t really need to use my scomp as regularly as I used to, the bionic hand allows me to do things I couldn’t do before but didn’t miss since they’re things I started doing here on Pabu. And honestly, I couldn’t see myself refusing this hand Tech gave me as a ‘retirement’ gift. I just didn’t have the heart to say no.”
Crosshair smirked. “I’m surprised he didn’t offer you one sooner.”
“Oh, he did. Two days after you got me out of Skako Minor, when he offered me the first upgrades to all my prosthetics. But after talking with him, we decided the scomp was best suited to the situation, not the hand.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t have had a bionic hand right away?”
“No. What I’m saying is that you shouldn’t expect the same thing from your bionic hand as your biological hand. Having a scomp first helped me make that transition, but just because it worked for me doesn’t mean it will work for you. Just… don’t be too hard on yourself. Losing a hand is a big deal, and it’s normal if you’ve lost some dexterity. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make adjustments if your prosthetic bothers you. I don’t know if it showed but I’ve lost count of the number of recalibrations we’ve done to my prosthetics for them to be okay. It’s a long process to adapt to a prosthetic, and an even longer one to get used to it, but you’re handling it like a pro.” Echo assured with an encouraging smile.
Crosshair didn’t really answer, but he clearly thought about it as he continued cooking. Echo didn’t continue either. He had done his part by sharing his experience, now Crosshair had to think about it and make the decisions he wanted. It would take time, but luckily, they had time.
The rest of the day went well, and in the afternoon, Tech decided to leave his bed and migrate to the living room. Since he didn’t really want to use his bionic leg and wasn’t quite comfortable in his wheelchair for days like this, he simply asked Wrecker to help him move to the couch, which the taller man accepted enthusiastically but gently.
Right after lunch, Crosshair had gone for a walk on the cliffs but had since returned and he, Wrecker, Echo and Tech were in the living room, each going about their business, when Hunter and Omega returned, around 4 p.m.
“Guys, guys, guys, we have to make a pillow fort!” Omega exclaimed, bursting into the house like a fury.
“Good evening to you too, Omega. Glad to hear your day went well.” Crosshair sneered, barely looking up from the holobook he was reading.
“Yeah, yeah, if you want, but we absolutely have to make a pillow fort tonight!”
“What’s a pillow fort?” Wrecker asked, amused by his sister’s excitement, though a little puzzled.
“Lyana told me about it. Basically, you take blankets, cushions, duvets, pillows and build a fort with them! For the base, you can turn the sofa over and use it as a load-bearing wall, but you can also do that with stakes!”
“And what is the purpose of such a construction?” Tech asked.
“Once everything is done, we go inside!”
“At the risk of repeating myself, for what purpose?” The bespectacled brother insisted.
“There’s no real goal, if I understood right.” Hunter interjected.
“It’s just for fun.” Omega confirmed. “Lyana told me that when she makes pillow forts with her dad, they usually watch movies and eat snacks all night. And you can even sleep in it if you make it big enough!”
There was a short silence as the five adults exchanged small glances before Echo nodded. “In that case, we’re lucky that the blankets Wrecker gave us are absolutely enormous.” He agreed.
“Yeah, yippee! Thanks, Echo!” Omega exclaimed, coming over to hug her brother.
“So, what do we need to make a pillow fort?” Tech asked, turning on his datapad to a blank notes page, ready to take notes. In the state he was in today, he knew he couldn’t really participate in the physical construction of the fort, but there was no way he was going to just watch them.
Smiling, Omega began to list all the elements necessary to build a proper pillow cabin. Everyone then got to work, deciding to remove some mattresses from their beds and stick them together and stack them, creating a space big enough for the six of them.
After a while, Crosshair slipped away to return to his kitchen, preparing snacks of all kinds, enough to last the entire night if necessary.
It took them a good two hours, but they managed to successfully build their pillow fort. It was absolutely gigantic and took up the entire living room, making it difficult to even walk through. They hung blankets on the walls and over the sofa, even using a few movable poles to add a bit of height. The floor was padded with mattresses, cushions, and even more blankets.
Once the fort was finished, Omega snuck inside and flopped back onto the large mattress, chuckling. “It’s even better than I imagined.” She said softly, watching the light filter through the small holes in the crocheted blanket that served as the fort’s roof.
“Glad you like it so much, ad’ika.” Echo smiled as he settled down next to the young blonde, half-crawling because he had removed his prosthetics to be more comfortable and at ease.
“It’s a shame you didn’t think to put cushions on the living room door.” Crosshair mocked, moving closer to the cabin.
“On the living room door?” Omega repeated. “Why would we need to put cushions on the living room door?”
“Crosshair, no.” Tech asked.
“Crosshair, yes.” Echo countered. “I have a feeling there’s a good story behind this.”
“Noooo.” Tech lamented.
“I don’t know. Crosshair drawled with a smirk. “Tech, why would we need to put cushions on the doors?”
“Crosshair, if you want to humiliate me, I unfortunately can’t stop you, but there’s no need to push too hard.” Tech sighed, settling into the cabin with a little help from Hunter, so he wouldn’t hurt himself even more.
“What happened?” Omega asked again, excited to know more about her brothers.
“Have you ever wondered where Tech got that scar in the middle of his forehead?” Crosshair said, appearing through the opening of the hut, carrying the snacks with Wrecker.
“I thought it was like the others, a training accident or a battle injury.” Omega admitted with a shrug.
“Oh, but the truth is quite different.” Wrecker chuckled, settling down next to Hunter.
“Let’s just say it’s since the Data Pad Incident that Tech is no longer allowed to use his datapad while walking if he’s alone.” Hunter grinned, ruffling his bespectacled brother’s hair.
“What, you didn’t walk into a wall or something, did you?” Echo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Right on target.” Crosshair smirked. “Except Tech here didn’t just walk into a wall, no, no, no. He hit himself so hard he passed out instantly, splitting his forehead open, and we found him sprawled on the floor when we returned from the cafeteria.”
Echo, Omega and the others burst out laughing as they imagined the scene.
“At least I didn’t get stuck at the top of a tower because I couldn’t get back down, embodying perfectly a tooka kit.” Tech countered, narrowing his eyes at his brother.
Crosshair stopped laughing abruptly and his ears reddened slightly.
“What, what? I have a feeling there’s another funny story here.” Omega said, interested.
“There’s nothing to say." Crosshair muttered.
“Are you sure, Cross? I seem to remember that too.” Hunter added, nudging his younger brother.
In the end, the Batch didn’t even need to turn on the holo movies they’d planned to have a good evening, instead swapping anecdotes from their younger, or not-so-younger, years. And when Echo started telling stories with Fives, the rest of Domino Squad, and even a few with the 501st, everyone knew they had many more hours to go. And that was a good thing, because no one wanted to move from their cozy, cushioned pillow fort.