During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with the disillusioned Padawan-tur...
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The cab stopped in front of 79s, which was every bit as uproarious as Tech had made it out to be. Even more so tonight, apparently, with the contest going on. Tech had come across the advertisement for it while they were grounded on Kamino for a while. Their mission to Anaxes had led them to Skako Minor, where they discovered a clone who had been horrifically modified, imprisoned, and used for the military strategies in his mind. After his rescue, he'd decided to come with the Batch, feeling it to be a better fit than trying to return to his old squad, and they'd been summoned to Kamino for him to receive proper medical treatment and rehabilitation, as well as better-fitting cybernetics.
So while Echo was "being upgraded", as Tech had put it, the rest of the crew enjoyed some rest. Or tried to. Never ones to be in the same place for long, they began to get restless, each in their own way. Vel was positive that if Wrecker worked out any more, he wouldn't fit through the Marauder door, and she hadn't even seen Crosshair for a few days now. Tech was lost in the holonet, at least until he came up with this fantastic idea.
The delegations from Pantora and Alderaan had offered to sponsor a costume contest at 79s, "to raise morale and thank the troops". That in and of itself wasn't very attractive, but the considerable monetary prize promised to the winner definitely was. Since Echo was still in bacta and didn't look as though he'd be done anytime soon, Tech had tried to convince the team to go for it. He was immediately shut down, even by Wrecker, which was a surprise. But the look on his downcast little face had tugged at Vel's heart so much that she'd agreed to do it with him.
When the day arrived, they'd spent the entire afternoon in various seedy parts of Coruscant, sifting through "treasures" at a variety of shops that featured all sorts of things that people had decided they didn't want. Many of the items were old and ragged; some were intriguing in their foreign nature, being from other planets and other centuries. Vel could have sworn they'd gone through at least twenty possible costumes, but Tech had something in his mind, and he was determined to win. Maker knows they could use the credits, but Vel was starting to tire of his relentless search for... something.
His triumphant proclamation upon discovering the set of costumes they were now wearing had been music to her ears... until she saw what he was holding up. Her green ensemble had been wrapped around a dusty mannequin that Tech had picked up by the breasts, completely unaware as he was so distracted by his discovery. Along with it came a three-piece brown suit – the jacket and pants were lightly pinstriped, and the vest was a heathered beige color with the same gold buttons that adorned the high waist of Vel's skirt. The tie and pocket square matched her outfit as well, and the final piece was a funny-shaped hat with a thin swash of fabric running around it.
"Tech..." Vel began, but she was cut off immediately.
"I cannot believe it! If these are authentic, they are truly a piece of lost history!" he exclaimed. Vel had questions, but she knew he was far from done. "If I am not mistaken, these are standard pieces of clothing worn by humans on a planet that is long since gone. Well, not gone, but entirely desolate. Their short-sighted waste management techniques and unsustainable environmental practices led to the planet's abandonment, but before that... There were quite a few centuries of fascinating history. This style of clothing was worn during and after their second "world war", which is inaccurately named due to– Never mind. The point is simply that these are genuine artifacts from a time period and civilization that is long gone. Something so unique will easily set us apart and ensure our success in the contest."
"I don't think people will know... Or, like..."
"Ahh! Hello, my beautiful clients! I'm so happy you found those!" the shopkeeper had appeared out of nowhere, the delight on her face mirroring Tech's. "Those have been in my family for generations. A real piece of history! It would warm my heart to know that they are being put to good use and seeing life again."
"I'm just not sure–"
"We would like to purchase them," Tech interjected, and Vel covered her face with a hand. He balked upon hearing the price, and after a very thorough and nearly heated period of negotiations, the costumes were theirs, as well as a full makeover for Vel from the shopkeeper, who was apparently an expert on the fashions of other planets.
So as she began her precarious high-heeled walk across the platform toward 79s, Vel had plenty of regrets to mutter under her breath, most of which she had tried to say earlier but had been prevented from completing. A couple of comments from passersby caught her ears, suggesting that perhaps she was the hired entertainment or possibly an "underworld dweller looking to make some money tonight". She grimaced, walking more stiffly as she scanned the crowd for Tech. The heel of one of her shoes found a crack on the sidewalk, jerking her off balance and sending her toppling to the side with her arms flung out. A pair of strong arms caught her, lifting her back to her feet with a gentle chuckle.
"Easy girl," a trooper in a pilot's uniform crooned as she steadied herself, not letting go of her arm and waist even once she was situated. "Looks like you fell into the right arms. Need some help getting around tonight?" His greasy grin and frequent glances at her outrageous cleavage did not give off good vibes, and she furrowed her brow with a snarky retort at the ready.
"That will not be necessary," came the pert voice she most wanted to hear, and the pilot turned to see Tech standing behind him. His outfit was similar to his casino disguise in the way it stood out like a sore thumb and also made Vel's heart flutter. The smart brown suit and hat were slightly loose on his frame, but the wing-tipped shoes had miraculously been a perfect fit. The pilot turned back to Vel, who had jerked her arm back with a stubborn expression.
"You're... uh... with him?" the trooper asked in disbelief.
"Damn right I am," she snapped, lifting her chin. "And you might want to work on your game."
"Hey!" he squawked, holding his hands up in surrender, "I just thought you were a..."
"Do not finish that sentence," Tech said firmly, stepping closer. His extra three inches of height came in handy as he gave the pilot a stern expression, moving past him to take Vel's hand and wrap it around his arm. "And best wishes in your pursuit of sexual release."
A laugh burst out of Vel before she could contain it, and the sight of the clone's face as they disappeared into the crowd of the club was one that would bring her mirth for weeks to come.
"What?" Tech asked, tipping his head toward her with a slight smile.
"What do you mean, 'what?'" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. "That was brilliant."
"It was merely a statement of fact," he returned evenly, although she could swear she saw a glimmer in his eye.
"You didn't mean it as a jab?" Her tone was laced with suspicion, cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard.
"Hm. Perhaps it functioned in multiple ways," he observed, eyebrows slightly raised in complete innocence.
"Alright, clever boy," Vel chuckled, snuggling against his side. She was eternally grateful for his steady frame and gentlemanly arm as the club doors whooshed closed behind them.
