Emotions were never Tech’s speciality. It was indisputable, and the clone was aware of this. But he never made an effort to change it; he never saw a reason to. The others were never roused by it, nor did they ever raise questions concerning it. Tech was a soldier—personal feelings were not needed in a war.

That wasn’t to say he was immune to emotions. No—Tech felt them all the same, although it often felt as though they were far more dulled down compared to others. He’d watch clones rejoice after victories, mourn and grieve losses, grow angered for a number of reasons. And rarely ever once would Tech experience the same flush of emotions. But it was alright; he preferred his brains to his heart. It allowed him to concentrate on what was needed, not wanted.

And then you came.

It was…a whirlwind, to put it lightly. For once in his life, Tech’s intelligence had failed him. Tests he ran on himself, attempting to determine what this feeling in his chest was every time you were near, came back with naught. Once or twice he was under the impression he was having a heart attack, and somehow you were the cause of it—that wouldn't surprise him really, with the amount of times you’d put yourself out in the face of danger for others without an air of hesitation.

Even now Tech doesn’t know why he feels compelled to be closer to you. Asking the others was near impossible; they would all give him such cryptic answers, to where he’d be left with more questions. He didn’t dare ask you, he feared you’d tell him that there was something wrong with him, rather than helping him find the answer to his agony.

Ever so quietly, Tech sat beside you within The Marauder, glancing at you once, twice, thrice, before he spoke—simultaneously dispelling a thought of how the light caught in your pretty eyes.

“Are you well?” Tech began, having memorised what he’d say to you plenty of times. Concern wasn't a strong suit, but towards you it was almost natural.

“You took quite a fall on Aynaboni.”