Context: Takes place before the epilogue. The Marauder is dandy; Tech never plan 99'd himself and is living happily on Pabu with the rest of the batch :)

     Omega batted her lashes against the harsh ray of warmth infiltrating her new room. The young clone turned over, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the bright strip of sunlight that managed to sneak past the blinds Wrecker had just installed. She didn't mind it though. After months of being trapped within sterile labs and grey walls of Tantiss, she welcomed any and all signs of nature that reminded her of the freedom she and her brothers fought for. Omega smiled, seizing Lula into a hug before swinging her legs over the side of her bed. With a wide yawn, the clone dressed for the day in her beautifully handmade Pabu attire. Omega tiptoed through the narrow hallway. She was mindful of those still sleeping— mainly Wrecker who's snores could be heard from a klick away.

Omega approached the bustling kitchen. The smell of burnt bread filled the room with the strong pungent aroma of charcoal. Omega shook her head. It seemed to be the only thing the kitchen smelled of now.

"Good morning, Hunter," she greeted. Hunter— attempting to scrape the black overcooked bits off his toast— tried to discreetly slide the failed breakfast into the trash bin.

"Hey, Omega. How'd you sleep?" The sergeant set an endearing hand on her shoulder as he guided her to the small table. He pulled the chair out, presenting the girl with an already perfectly set spot.

"Pretty good."

Omega reached for the meiloorun juice, pouring herself a full glass.

"So, what will it be today, kid?" Hunter walked back over to the small wooden island, throwing on the colorful patterned apron Omega so kindly brought him at the Pabuian market.

"Hmmm...how about pancakes?"

Hunter raised a brow, placing his hands on his hips. "Again? That's the fourth time this week—"

"Pleaseee?" Omega looked at him with pleading eyes.

How could he tell her 'no' when she looked at him with those sparkling, round, doe shaped eyes? He was a battle harden soldier, trained to withstand torture, but when it came to Omega, he melted without a second thought. Hunter sighed with a growing smile.

"Three pancakes coming right up."

Omega cheered, giving a Wrecker-like pump of the fist in the air while chugging the rest of her drink within seconds.

"Careful, kid. Remember what Tech said about choking hazards," Hunter hollered over from the stove.

"Speaking of Tech, where is he?" Omega asked. She looked over at the empty chair across from her. Tech was usually the first one up, and judging by the clean spot, he hadn't eaten yet.

Hunter recalled the loud argument between the technician and the sniper the night prior. All he made out from the dispute was that Crosshair had supposedly broken the latter's datapad, and knowing Tech, he would have stayed up the entire night to repair it.

"He's probably sleeping. I wouldn't worry—"

"I am right here," Tech's tired voice interjected as he emerged from the corridor.

"Hi, Tech!" Omega beamed as he came and sat down with her. "Hunter's making pancakes if you want any!"

Tech nodded to her with a soft smile. "Thank you, Omega. However, I suggest you eat lightly this morning as I wish to expand your knowledge of the Marauder's instruments beyond Pabu's atmosphere."

"...I get to fly in space?" A wide grin spread across her face.

"What?" Hunter paused, looking hesitantly at his brother.

Tech shrugged. "It is a critical skill to learn."

"I can't believe I get to fly in space!"

Hunter grabbed a clean plate, stacking it full of fluffy pancakes, setting it down in front of Omega.

"You sure you're up for it, kid? You've barely flown without the autopilot."

"I can do it, Hunter," she said with determination and then with a slight cockiness that she could have only picked up from a certain marksman she added, "How hard can it be?"

Hunter shook his head, turning his attention to his younger brother.

"Just the basics, Tech. Got it?"

"Of course. Where else would we start?"

"I mean it, Tech. I know you. Don't go overboard with tricks."

Omega glanced up from her meal and with a mouthful asked, "You mean tricks like the Tech Turn?"

Hunter grumbled to himself. "Yes, like the 'Tech Turn'. I want you both to be safe."

"You have nothing to be wary of, Hunter. I am slightly offended you doubt my integrity."

Hunter rolled his eyes, placing a plate in front of the technician. "You're not flying on an empty stomach." The sergeant plopped four buttery pancakes on the dish. "Eat," he ordered.

"Hunter, I am not hungry—"

"Why does it smell like bantha fodder in here?" a grumpy voice asked, entering the small kitchen.

"That would be the scent of overcooked bread, Crosshair, or perhaps the smell of my scorched datapad is still lingering in your nasal canals?" Tech suggested without bothering to look up.

"Ugh, you're still hung up over that?" the sniper huffed, leaning against the doorframe.

"You destroyed one of my most prized possessions all because you were roughhousing with Wrecker. Cycles worth of my research could have been corrupted—"

"You're talking as if I care." Crosshair uncrossed his arms, taking his seat next to Omega.

Omega gulped down her last bite. She could feel the tension building as the seconds ticked by. She quickly stood up and rushed her plate to the sink before appearing at Tech's side, eagerly tugging his arm.

"Come on, Tech." She didn't need him in a bad mood. What if he changed his mind about flying?

Tech scooted back from the table.

"There's still food on that plate, Tech," Hunter said eying the untouched meal.

Omega scooped the plate up with a sheepish grin. "I'll make sure he eats on the way."

"Alright, kid. Be sure he does."

"Unlike certain people in the vicinity, I can take accountability—"

"Be back by 1300." Hunter waved the two out the door before Crosshair could respond with a snarky remark that would most likely have escalated the situation.

"Where are they off to?" Crosshair asked, annoyance still in clear in his tone.

"Flying lessons," Hunter answered. He watched as Crosshair's brow furrowed slightly. "Why, worried?" The sergeant knew he was instigating, but suppressed a protruding smirk.

Crosshair scoffed as he walked back to his room.

Hunter chuckled, sitting down with a cup of warm tea.

~~~

     The Marauder took off. Tech flew the ship through the white puffy clouds hanging high in the bright blue sky over looking Pabu. When the Marauder broke the planet's atmosphere, Tech turned the ship on autopilot, letting the vessel drift in the black dotted space.

"Alright, Omega. You may now switch seats with me."

Omega, giddy as ever, unbuckled her safety harness, sliding into the pilots chair as Tech moved into the co-pilot's.

"Can I turn it to manual?" she asked, hand hovering over the switch.

Tech nodded. "Yes, but keep one hand on the yoke at all times as you will have complete control over the the Marauder's movements."

"Got it," Omega said. The Marauder was now being flown solely by her. Every slight change she made, the ship followed.

"Good. Let's start with gently rolling the left wing up. Hopefully, you remember the terminology?"

"I did read all 1500 pages of the handbook," Omega said with a sigh at the mere thought of it. Reading the entire manual had taken her almost a month. Fifty pages a day wasn't her ideal source of entertainment, but if that's all it took to get up in the air, she did it without complaint.

Tech gave her a soft smile. "I am proud. It is necessary to be well-versed in—"

Flashes of bright red suddenly lighting up the cockpit, followed by an alarming screech.

Omega's eyes widened as her eyes frantically scanned the dashboard, making sure she hadn't accidentally hit anything she wasn't supposed to. Once certain she turned to Tech.

"Whatever is happening, I didn't do anything."

Tech jumped up, pulling out his datapad. "Do not worry, I am scanning the ship. I should know what is wrong in a matter of—" Tech narrowed his attention to the control panel, his eyes catching the fuel gauge.

Empty.

"What is it?" Omega asked, still holding onto the yoke in a deathgrip.

"It appears we are out of fuel, but that should not be an issue. Our reversed tanks should be more than enough... Omega, did anyone take the Marauder out in the past two days?"

Omega squirmed in her seat, she hated breaking her word, but he would understand.

"Do you remember Wrecker asking to take the ship to one of the neighboring islands to retrieve more housing supplies?"

"Yes, I recall."

"Well, he was actually going to Mon Cala for a fishing festival."

"He what!?"

"I guess he forgot to refill the tank for the trip back," Omega replied meekly. That would explain the failed backup.

Tech's face turned a bright shade of flustered red. The only other time she had seen him so angry was when Crosshair "accidentally" locked him and Phee in a room together.

Omega waited for Tech to say something, to tell her what to do, but just as he opened his mouth, the Marauder's lights cut out. Omega felt her stomach drop as the the nose of the ship began to turn down.

"Omega! Let me take over!" Tech started to unbuckle, but realized the belt was jammed.

"Any time, Tech!" Omega's voice was on the verge of shouting as she eyed her brother for his guidance. The Marauder began to gain speed, turing from a slight downturn into a full on dive.

"Tech!"

Tech struggled to pull on the restraint. Of all times the safety belt should act up, it had to be at the crux of the situation.

"I cannot move," he grunted, still attempting to loosen the strap securing him to the seat. "You will have to listen to my instructions, Omega!"

"What!?" Omega's voice hitched. "I'm supposed to be learning!"

"You are!" Tech shouted over the the wailing alarms. "Consider this your first lesson on how to safely crash land!"

"Crash!?" Omega squeaked.

The Marauder finally broke back into Pabu's atmosphere, flying through the once tranquil sky at a shocking speed.

"Techhh, do something!" Omega begged. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Maybe she wasn't ready to fly by herself or ever again for that matter.

Tech tried to reduce her stress levels, speaking in a calm and steady tone he said, "You are doing fine. While we have no power, you can still steer the ship as we glide. Now, carefully manuver the nose up."

Omega swallowed the lump in her throat. She pushed down the thoughts of dying and replaced them with Tech's instructions.

"Okay," she said with a trembling lip.

Omega did as she was told, her hands melted into the steering device. The Marauder evened out, but they were still falling.

"Now what?" Omega spared a quick glance over to Tech.

Tech pointed out the window as the ocean came into view. In the far distance, he could just hardly make out the outline of the island they called home, but it was there no doubt.

"I want you to gradually steer us into the ocean."

"But—"

Tech held a hand up, cutting her off. "Omega, please listen. You are going to fly us downward, the second the ship touches the water, pull up and repeat the motion until we have decreased in speed. The water will slow our rapid pace until it is safe to fully submerge the ship. I assure you, we will not sink. Can you do that for me?" He looked at Omega with a gentle eyes.

"Omega?"

Omega bit her lip, blinking back nervous tears. Now was not the time to panic. She was responsible for both her and Tech's survival. Taking a much needed deep breath, she nodded fiercely.

"Yes."

Tech returned the gesture. "Excellent. On my count..."

Omega listened closely as the ship neared the mini sloshing waves. She braced for the impact knowing she needed to be ready to spring into action the second they made contact with the water.

"Three...Two...One...Now!" Tech shouted.

Omega immediately steered the ship up only to lower it not a few seconds later. She repeated the process on Tech's command until, like he said, the speed decreased significantly. After a grueling five minutes, the Marauder hit the surface for the last time. Omega untensed, slouching into her seat as she ran a shaking hand over her drenched forehead.

"Very nice, Omega. You have successfully survived your first crash landing."

Omega shot Tech a look which instantly had him turning his head the other way.

"That— That was awful!" Omega exclaimed, finally catching her breath. She stood on wobbly legs as she rummaged through her bag to retrieve her vibro-knife. In one swift motion, she cut through the broken seat belt keeping Tech from moving.

"The first crash is always the worst." Tech tried to comfort his shaken up sister. "You will get used to it."

"Used to it? I sure hope not." Omega's heart still felt like it was racing. "What do we do now? Comm Hunter?"

"I think we can solve our issue without Hunter being notified," Tech responded rather quickly.

Omega lifted her brow, narrowing her eyes. "You don't want him to know, do you?"

Tech scoffed. "If there is any blame to place, it would be on Wrecker, not me. Besides, if Hunter were to find out, he would never let you nor I leave the island for an extended period of time."

Omega rolled her eyes. He had a point. "Okay, no telling Hunter... but how do we get back?"

Tech walked into the back of the ship, emerging back out with two wooden paddles.

"Which wing do you fancy: left or right?"

Omega's face dropped.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Ignore my limited and most likely incorrect knowledge of the aviation world, I tried y'all 😭 

Happy Wednesday!! I hope everyone is having a great day!! I've lowkey lost motivation the past two weeks so sry about no updates. I ran out of ideas but luckily this one popped into my head when I was sleep deprived. July is honestly gonna be busy for me, but I will try and get stories out. I miss the bad batch so much, like it's not even funny. I NEED THEM BACK IN MY LIFE. Literally only lived for the show so like... now what 💁🏽‍♀️ Also if anyone knows any good bad batch fics that aren't reader/yn/ oc's of retelling the episodes, help a girl out 😩