TBB/TCW Writer ~ Clone Lover

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Content: jaded people who should have gone to therapy, PG-13 passion, canon-typical violence (brawls, raids), mild medical injury, and wildly satisfying angst.

Chapter 4 of 4 - 3.9k words

Previous Chapter

A week later, every minute they could wring out of work and time off had been spent with each other. The dockyard had a new flavor for both of them, where the mind-numbing tedium was interspersed with sparks of light where their paths crossed, and whether it was monotonous or unexpectedly chaotic, the presence of the other made it somewhat more bearable.

Without warning, alarms screamed through the dockyard, red lights flashing. Loud voices over the intercom began squawking instructions, but no one was listening. The Imperials had ordered a “surprise drill”, and Cal groaned as dockhands scrambled like startled birds. 

But Drift came alive. “Form up!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Clear the lanes and secure the cargo. Come on, idiots.”

Workers froze, then obeyed, moving with unexpected precision under his sharp commands, and Cal found herself watching in awe. His stance was tall and steady, unfazed by chaos as though he’d been born to take charge. Which, of course, he had, but she still appreciated the reminder. Within minutes, the “evacuation” was completed – cargo locked, routes cleared, dockhands accounted for. The alarms stopped and the usual background noise felt like silence in comparison.

“All clear, ma’am,” he reported, standing in front of her with stick-straight military discipline.

Cal couldn’t stop the little grin tugging at her mouth. “Thank you, Security Officer Drift,” she said, mustering all the mock seriousness she could.

He cleared his throat and saluted. “Just doing my job, ma’am. I know you run a tight ship around here.”

She snorted at that, rolling her eyes and sauntering back toward her office, but she couldn’t ignore the wave of admiration emanating from her core.

* * * 

A repulsorlift loader had stalled mid-bay, groaning dramatically as though it were dying a slow, miserable death. Workers muttered, feigning irritation to conceal their gratitude for being spared some of their duties, and Cal sighed, ready to file yet another repair request that would take days if not weeks to go through. She rested a hand on the lift, squinting at the grating parts making feeble attempts to move as though critical scrutiny could convince them to work. It didn’t.

Drift appeared with a hydrospanner in hand and crouched down for a good look, then pulled off his helmet to slide beneath. With a grunt, his top half disappeared under the machine, and some questionable clanging noises soon followed.

“What are you doing?” He had no such skills on his resume, nor had she ever seen any enthusiasm for technical work.

“Fixing it!” came his proud, muffled declaration.

“You’re not a mechanic!”

A puff of smoke burst out the side and the machine drooped even further, making noises so sad they were comical. He rolled out, face streaked with grease. “See? Fixed.”

The loader promptly lurched backward, slumping onto its side like a bantha that had been shot, and sank into a stack of crates as its final resting place.

“Wow,” was all she could muster, pressing her lips together to suppress an undignified guffaw.

“Yeah…” he grumbled, wiping his cheek and somehow leaving it dirtier. “You should probably take care of that.”

Then she did laugh, pushing him playfully and jerking her head toward the caf stand. “I’m gonna need a pick-me-up before I start another report.”

“Alright. Enjoy.”

“With you, idiot.”

He grinned.

The caf line was long, and the overworked machine seemed to complain as much as its Ithorian manager, but they waited anyway. Nutrition and morale were very important to ensuring a productive, healthy workplace, after all, she reasoned. People milled about in the line, kicking dust with their boots or making small talk. Drift leaned in front of her, straining to see what their chances were of being served anytime soon, and she slumped behind him, turning to gaze at the mesmerizing puffs of smoke from a nearby factory. A Rodian slipped into the gap between her and Drift.

“Excuse me…” she started, but the alien ignored her. Drift, however, turned immediately, and the shift in his demeanor was startling.

“End of the line’s back there.” His voice was calm, low, and unmistakable. The Rodian glanced at him, then at the blaster on his hip, then shuffled backward without a word.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” she protested, though it lacked the edge of the previous times she’d shared the same sentiment with him.

“I know.” He looked at her for a long moment, then continued with a simple thought. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” 

She was surprised at how much she liked that.

They finally made it to the front, received their abysmal excuses for cafe extravagance, and began heading back to the main bay. It had been a cloudy night, muggy as usual, but the storm that came out of nowhere clearly had a vendetta against the industrial sector of Coronet. It didn’t build with warning rumbles of thunder, it slammed, and within seconds, sheets of water were hammering the open docks, drenching everything immediately. 

Crates sagged under the downpour, flimsi manifests blurring into ink-stained mush, and dockhands shouted as they scrambled with tarps and plastoid sheets, trying to cover shipments before they dissolved. Patrol droids sputtered, optics flashing erratic red – one spun in place as though it had lost its compass while another beeped a warning and promptly rolled into a generator housing, earning a round of curses from the humans hunched nearby. 

The Selonians fared worst of all, their fur plastered flat, tails lashing in miserable agitation as they hissed at each other. Abandoning their stations, they darted under scaffolding and bulkheads in clumps, grumbling about who’d stolen the driest spot and jostling for a better angle. Some disillusioned humans trudged on, shoulders hunched, teeth clenched against the rain as they pushed carts through the flooding lanes while others gave up altogether, leaning against crates with ration bars in hand, waiting it out with resigned curses that lacked any real fortitude.

Cal had pressed her back against a nearby scaffold base, trying and failing to shield her datapad as droplets streaked across the screen, while Drift was everywhere, barking orders that cut through the storm and throwing tarps over crates twice his size. He seemed almost energized by the bedlam; perhaps the earlier ordeal had invigorated parts of him that had been dormant.The caf stand closed in defeat, its steam vents hissing mournfully as the Ithorian vendor glared at the sky. Brannic absurdly trudged on with a small piece of plastic spread above his datapad like an umbrella, fur bristling as he muttered about serial discrepancies, utterly unfazed by the deluge. Cal cursed as an entire chunk of water fell from where it had pooled on a beam above… right onto her datapad. She shoved it against her chest, rain dripping into her eyes as she looked for a reasonable route to her office, when she felt Drift’s gloved hand on her elbow.

“This way.”

He tugged her toward a narrow door at the bay wall, smacking the button and pulling her in as soon as it opened enough. It whooshed closed, muting the storm to a dull grumble outside, and their eyes took a few seconds to adjust. It was a long, skinny supply closet, barely large enough for the two of them. Racks of old spare gloves sagged on their hooks, rain capes hung uselessly on a wall, and rolls of tarp leaned precariously against one corner. It was a dusty, smelly mess, and a single bulb buzzed overhead, flickering disapprovingly. The cramped space forced them close… close enough that Cal could hear the rain dripping from his armor onto the floor as he pulled off his helmet. Close enough to see the streak of grease along his jaw that he hadn’t managed to wipe away earlier. And close enough that her heart was thumping far louder than the storm outside. 

Their backs were each to a wall, and she tried not to elbow him in the face as she pushed her soaking hair out of her face, shaking it away and wiping the droplets from her cheeks. His chest seemed twice as big as usual, shoulders broad, face impassive as he watched her fuss over her appearance. When she finished and glanced up at him, he had a mischievous spark in his eye.

“What?” she said, and was that almost a giggle that came out?

“Just seems like a pretty convenient place,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh?” she mused. “For what?”

He leaned a little closer, reaching sideways to push his helmet onto the top of a tarp roll before bringing a hand to her hip. “I don’t know… uh.” He paused, eyes flitting to and fro for a moment as though he’d lost whatever witty wisecrack he’d been leading up to. She laughed, disarmed and delighted by his fluster, especially in such stark contrast to his authoritative management of the situations outside, then cleared her throat and leapt into an abysmal imitation of his commanding voice.

“Form up!” she demanded, poking his chest plate. “Secure the cargo! Clear your lanes!” She paused for a beat, then took the plunge. “Kiss your superior!” He choked on a laugh, and she didn’t wait another second as she grabbed his face and pressed her lips to his. 

He made an indiscernible “mmph”, stunned for a moment, then wrapped her tightly in his arms, squeezing for a moment as though it were filling him to the brim, then his breaths grew heavy as they kissed again and again. Things heated up quickly as playfulness exploded into passion, her fingers gripping the back of his neck, his hands pulling her waist as she flattened every inch of herself against his [wildly inconvenient] armor. He was nearly suffocating but he didn’t care; he was losing any sense of where he ended and she began. He threw his head back for air, but she didn’t give him any reprieve, tracing her lips down his neck instead. He closed his eyes tightly, surrendering to her increasingly ravishing kisses, then dropped his chin to lose himself in open-mouthed kisses that were setting off every nerve in his body like a chain reaction of explosives detonating from his head to his core. He’d been so touch-starved, so closed off… and she was lighting fuses he didn’t even know he had.

The feeling of this grown man, this battle-hardened survivor, falling apart in her arms was intoxicating. Cal felt vibrant, possessive even, and she wanted just one thing: more. She buried a hand in his hair, gripping a fistful as she had before and relishing the way it made him squirm,  and when she caught his bottom lip in her teeth, raking them gently across it, the soft, helpless groan it drew from him set her fully ablaze. She pulled back, breathing heavily and studying him as though to memorize every feature and detail, and the sight of his tiny smile, swollen lips, and overly awestruck gaze made her heart burst in her chest. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he panted, grasping her chin with gentle fingers and bringing her to his mouth for one last kiss in a feeble attempt at assertion.

“Oh, quite the opposite,” she said, smiling and giving his cheek a caress.

* * * 

Cal was halfway through another slog of cross-checking manifests when Drift appeared at her office door, trying and failing to hide a bit of pride beneath a calm expression on his face.

“Your portable comm,” he said, setting it on her desk with a faint clunk. “Fixed the transmitter. You don’t have to chain yourself to this room anymore.”

She’d been forced to spend far more time in her office for communications since her portable unit had gone out, and she blinked at the site of it. “You… fixed it?”

He gave a little shrug as if it were all in a day's work for someone in his position (it wasn’t). “Didn’t like hearing you complain about the range.” He was already halfway to the door, channeling all the nonchalance in the world.

“Well thank you,” she nodded, unable to conceal a sheepish grin.

Later that shift, she slipped the comm into her vest pocket and stepped out onto the catwalk of a high scaffold,. “Bay Six cleared for departure contingent upon Security Officer Drift’s visual,” she said.

“Copy that. On my way, ma’am,” came his reply, a croon in her ear that made her feel a certain kind of way. Hearing him so clearly without the garbled background noise that always fought to crowd out any actual words felt like some sort of private treat. She noted a visceral response to his voice, its gravelly tone laced with just enough softness to make it a gift just for her… Or perhaps it was all in her head. Either way, she suddenly resolved that it would be prudent for her to check in with her security staff more frequently.

* * *

The planks across Dock 12 were warped from years of water damage, uneven enough to trip even the most careful worker (as Cal had recently discovered). Muttering something about the extenuating circumstances of the pirate attack, she was carefully stepping across when Drift’s arms suddenly looped around her waist and, before she even finished her squawk of protest, scooped her off her feet and held her across his chest.

“What—” she began.

“Gotta watch those ankles,” he said, as sincerely as he could, but an undeniable humor tinged it all.

“You’re ridiculous,” she grumbled, secretly pleased. “And maybe falling isn’t so bad if it means I get to be carried around by you.” She wiggled her eyebrows before cringing.

“Well in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m already carrying you,” he deadpanned, unmistakable through the helmet’s vocoder.

“Okay, I suck at flirting,” she sighed. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, continuing over her indignant protest. “But I would be happy to offer some pointers, with my many, many years of experience, and I’m nothing if not sacrificial in letting you practice on me.”

She was still chuckling when he set her down at the other end, and she felt steadier than she wanted to admit.

* * *

Something skittered across the dock floor in front of her as Cal leaned across a gap between crates to scan the last one. It was small, slimy, and had far too many legs. She shrieked, and the fearless Security Officer Drift just happened to be right around the corner. 

“Shoot it!” she demanded, hopping onto a crate.

Drift just laughed, then nudged the creature with his boot, gently steering it toward a drainage grate where it slipped between cracks with a wet squelch.

“Seriously?” She was baffled at the fact that he’d throw punches in a heartbeat but had somehow decided to treat this abomination with surprising care.

He shrugged. “Didn’t deserve a blaster bolt.”

“It didn’t deserve to exist,” she shot back, more ruffled than sensible.

“Not everything that’s ugly is dangerous,” he said simply.

She opened her mouth to retort, then shut it, lost in thought.

* * * 

The door hissed open and Drift strode into Cal’s home, mildly grumpy from having to stay behind after his shift was over thanks to some unruly pilots who didn’t think schedules applied to them, only to catch his toe on the corner of a crate shoved awkwardly against the wall. He staggered, cursed, and whirled like someone had just fired on him.

“What the kriff—” His voice cut off as his gaze landed on the monstrosity that certainly hadn’t been there the day before.

It was… something… An upside-down crate was bolted into a scavenged durasteel pole and topped with an awkwardly bent bracket of sorts. She’d draped a rough old blanket around the base like some kind of pathetic skirt, and at the top 

He stared at it, jaw slack. “The hell is that?”

From the couch, Cal didn’t look up from her datapad. “A coat tree.”

“For what?”

“Your armor,” she grinned, still refusing to meet his eye.

He blinked. 

Finally glancing up, she smirked at him. “You’re always dumping pieces all over the floor. I got tired of stubbing my toes on your plastoid shell. So now…” she gestured at the Frankensteined tower of crate, pole, and prayer, “...you have somewhere to put it.”

Drift let out a noise somewhere between disbelief and a laugh. “Cal, that thing looks like it’s one sneeze away from collapsing on itself.”

“Maybe. But it’s better than you leaving a trail of crap across the floor. Nicer way to keep your stuff, too.” Her voice was soft and thoughtful, and unbeknownst to her, something flickered behind his visor. Not only because she was right in calling out his carelessness that would have gotten a severe reprimand had he done it in the barracks, but also because she actually cared enough to cobble this together out of scrap for him, which was somehow worse. He crossed his arms, trying to mask the tightness in his chest. “Admit it. You just want me out of my armor more.”

Her expression didn’t falter. “Duh.”

The word landed with a casual finality that nearly knocked him backward harder than the crate had. He laughed, a little too loudly, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as though the room had gotten hot. 

Two hours of mindless holoshows turned them both into potatoes, but there were no complaints as they snuggled on the couch. Drift’s eyes kept roving toward the “armor tree”, where each of his plastoid pieces hung from its appropriate spot, except two gauntlets wrapped in a belt to provide a counterbalance to the precariously tipped structure that held them. With a deep sigh as an episode ended, Cal extricated herself from her cozy cocoon against his chest and headed for the refresher, leaving him to stand and stretch with mild disgruntlement at the sudden coldness along his side where she had been curled up.

He ambled around the room to move creaky joints that lacked the vigor they’d had only a few years prior and found himself in front of the mirror in her entryway. He paused and regarded himself, brown eyes on brown eyes that held a lifetime of memories and regrets. Fragments of the past echoed in his mind, and his shoulders slumped beneath unbidden burdens. 

Soft footsteps touched his consciousness, but it wasn’t until Cal’s arms snaked around his waist from behind that his gaze came back into focus and he saw her content smile over his shoulder in their reflection. They stood in silence for a moment, an unspoken profundity lacing their hearts together as they looked in the mirror at each other, then at themselves.

“They put so much into making us, training us, equipping us…” he murmured, his frown exaggerating the scar at the corner of his mouth. “Then used us and tossed us out like old gear.”

She waited quietly, hoping the compassion in her eyes and her steady warmth against his back conveyed what words could not. 

“And what was the point?” he continued, the rhetorical question followed by a long pause. “I wished I’d died with them. So many of them. ‘S what I was made for anyway.”

Her arms tightened around his waist. Seconds ticked by.

“And then there’s you… Calyserra… someone who makes me feel like I’m not just… leftovers.” His eyes found hers then, a tumult of old pain and wistful longing filling their depths. 

She should have stiffened, should have recoiled at the name that had been a resented crown of naivete and futility for so long. But instead, inexplicably, it slid into place like a rusty freighter whose fresh edges had been worn down over time and latched smoothly into its home port. His frank words didn’t startle, they settled, and he didn’t miss the fact that she didn’t flinch but rather rested against him just a tiny bit more, and that spoke volumes more than a verbose confession ever could. He turned around in her arms, unable to look away from her eyes, so unguarded and sincere, and curled a finger under her chin to tip her face toward his. A smile of unspoken thanks curved the corner of his mouth, and he brought his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. They lingered, softening, until she pulled back an inch.

“Well.” 

Her pert tone caught him off guard, and he regarded her with a smirk as she continued.

“I love leftovers.”

His smirk broke into a smile.

* * * 

*blip*

Another shipment, another time stamp. 

Cargo reviewed. Dock report confirmed. Departure approved. 

*blip*

The caf machine still sputtered and wheezed like it was dying, grinding ancient beans into tar that barely qualified as liquid. She’d cursed its existence a hundred times before. Now, though, she found herself standing a little closer than necessary, Drift’s mug beside hers on the dented counter. The bitter scent still clung to the air, but when his gloved hand brushed hers as he passed her a cup, it softened into something almost sweet. The taste hadn’t improved, but she found herself smiling into the steam, amused at how he sipped as if it were the finest roast in the galaxy just to make her chuckle.

Brannic was still Brannic, tufts of fur bristling as his claw tapped away any shred of inaccuracy in their port records, droning on about discrepancies as though their lives hung on half a kilo of spare parts. The Selonians were still prone to scrapping over card games and loaders, huddling in corners with dirty holovids and coarse commentary. Once, the whole circus had grated on her nerves, but now, when Drift leaned close under the guise of reviewing a manifest and muttered something like, “I’ll bet the furball dreams about clipboards,” she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud. The Selonian scuffles still ended with bruises and paperwork, but the sound of his exasperated sigh instead of a battle cry made her grin instead of groan.

Home was still shabby. The cramped space felt smaller yet cozier with his increased presence. He'd arrived one day with a “world’s best boss” mug, clearly used and pilfered from Maker knows where, and had used it to bring her steaming dinner of nuna noodle soup. His armor had its place in the corner, and their limbs had their places around and between one another as they entwined on the couch in front of the screen to doze off to Imperial propaganda that would later turn into heart-wrenching depictions of starving Loth-cats set to devastatingly emotional music to further the campaign to raise money to save them.

The dockyards themselves hadn’t shifted an inch. Crates still stacked, freighters still churned smoke into the sky, and loaders still trundled with mechanical stubbornness. Cal still stood at the clearance terminal, thumb pressed against the scanner, eyes fixed on the same blinking lights she had watched for years. But now there was a presence at her shoulder, an armored silhouette steady and close, and her whole world had settled.

.

THANK YOU FOR READING, FRIENDS! 🥹

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When they finally do have their little apartment date, he’s wearing his armor again, and invites her to take it off… A throwback to their early days… But a renewal of unity, vulnerability, etc.

The clinic gets raided with suspicion of rebellious activity and Aurelia takes a leadership position to get the current patients out and they escape amid blaster fire. This allows her to feel competent and “prove herself” to Howzer, who dramatically announces her accolades before amusedly snuggling her into his chest and assuring her that she never needed to prove anything.

When The Great British Bake-Off season ends, Aurelia gets them all hooked on the GFFA equivalent of Bob Ross. Grob Tross.

And they live happily ever after, teammates and soulmates forever, and nothing bad ever happens to either of them except resolvable incidents that only bring them closer and develop a deeper love and loyalty, and they have the warmest and fuzziest of love stories and have lots of hot sex.

The End. 😉

.

Previous Chapter - Master List

@wings-and-beskargam @returnofthepineapple @heidnspeak @photogirl894 @ladylucksrogue

@techhasmjolnir @skellymom @reader6898 @vrycurious @burningnerdchild

@kashasenpai @shadowphantomreaper @dangraccoon @littlemissmanga @grayrideruniverse

@mxkyrie @cw80831 @sweeticedtea @followthepurrgil @youreababboon

@littlemissbshine @lightwise @etod @remotelyhauntedstatue @nursekyra

@stardusthuntress @waytoooldforthis78 @dreamie411 @cdblake1565 @jedi-master-jora-malli

When they finally do have their little apartment date, he’s wearing his armor again, and invites her to take it off… A throwback to their early days… But a renewal of unity, vulnerability, etc.

The clinic gets raided with suspicion of rebellious activity and Aurelia takes a leadership position to get the current patients out and they escape amid blaster fire. This allows her to feel competent and “prove herself” to Howzer, who dramatically announces her accolades before amusedly snuggling her into his chest and assuring her that she never needed to prove anything.

When The Great British Bake-Off season ends, Aurelia gets them all hooked on the GFFA equivalent of Bob Ross. Grob Tross.

And they live happily ever after, teammates and soulmates forever, and nothing bad ever happens to either of them except resolvable incidents that only bring them closer and develop a deeper love and loyalty, and they have the warmest and fuzziest of love stories and have lots of hot sex.

The End. 😉

.

Previous Chapter - Master List

@wings-and-beskargam @returnofthepineapple @heidnspeak @photogirl894 @ladylucksrogue

@techhasmjolnir @skellymom @reader6898 @vrycurious @burningnerdchild

@kashasenpai @shadowphantomreaper @dangraccoon @littlemissmanga @grayrideruniverse

@mxkyrie @cw80831 @sweeticedtea @followthepurrgil @youreababboon

@littlemissbshine @lightwise @etod @remotelyhauntedstatue @nursekyra

@stardusthuntress @waytoooldforthis78 @dreamie411 @cdblake1565 @jedi-master-jora-malli

When they finally do have their little apartment date, he’s wearing his armor again, and invites her to take it off… A throwback to their early days… But a renewal of unity, vulnerability, etc.

The clinic gets raided with suspicion of rebellious activity and Aurelia takes a leadership position to get the current patients out and they escape amid blaster fire. This allows her to feel competent and “prove herself” to Howzer, who dramatically announces her accolades before amusedly snuggling her into his chest and assuring her that she never needed to prove anything.

When The Great British Bake-Off season ends, Aurelia gets them all hooked on the GFFA equivalent of Bob Ross. Grob Tross.

And they live happily ever after, teammates and soulmates forever, and nothing bad ever happens to either of them except resolvable incidents that only bring them closer and develop a deeper love and loyalty, and they have the warmest and fuzziest of love stories and have lots of hot sex.

The End. 😉

.

Previous Chapter - Master List

@wings-and-beskargam @returnofthepineapple @heidnspeak @photogirl894 @ladylucksrogue

@techhasmjolnir @skellymom @reader6898 @vrycurious @burningnerdchild

@kashasenpai @shadowphantomreaper @dangraccoon @littlemissmanga @grayrideruniverse

@mxkyrie @cw80831 @sweeticedtea @followthepurrgil @youreababboon

@littlemissbshine @lightwise @etod @remotelyhauntedstatue @nursekyra

@stardusthuntress @waytoooldforthis78 @dreamie411 @cdblake1565 @jedi-master-jora-malli

When they finally do have their little apartment date, he’s wearing his armor again, and invites her to take it off… A throwback to their early days… But a renewal of unity, vulnerability, etc.

The clinic gets raided with suspicion of rebellious activity and Aurelia takes a leadership position to get the current patients out and they escape amid blaster fire. This allows her to feel competent and “prove herself” to Howzer, who dramatically announces her accolades before amusedly snuggling her into his chest and assuring her that she never needed to prove anything.

When The Great British Bake-Off season ends, Aurelia gets them all hooked on the GFFA equivalent of Bob Ross. Grob Tross.

And they live happily ever after, teammates and soulmates forever, and nothing bad ever happens to either of them except resolvable incidents that only bring them closer and develop a deeper love and loyalty, and they have the warmest and fuzziest of love stories and have lots of hot sex.

The End. 😉

.

Previous Chapter - Master List

@wings-and-beskargam @returnofthepineapple @heidnspeak @photogirl894 @ladylucksrogue

@techhasmjolnir @skellymom @reader6898 @vrycurious @burningnerdchild

@kashasenpai @shadowphantomreaper @dangraccoon @littlemissmanga @grayrideruniverse

@mxkyrie @cw80831 @sweeticedtea @followthepurrgil @youreababboon

@littlemissbshine @lightwise @etod @remotelyhauntedstatue @nursekyra

@stardusthuntress @waytoooldforthis78 @dreamie411 @cdblake1565 @jedi-master-jora-malli

There had been no explanation as to how, but Cerra announced one day that she’d found them a different place to live. It was still nearby, still small and simple, but it felt like absolute luxury as it had two full rooms and a refresher. Aurelia couldn’t believe her eyes when they stepped inside, and she had to resist the urge to give Cerra a huge hug, noting that the woman’s physical fondness seemed to be primarily directed to the handful of clones she’d adopted as her own. 

“It even has furniture?” Aurelia marveled. “How?”

“Well, we carried it inside, and–”

“You know what I mean,” she laughed. 

“I’ve got connections,” Cerra replied, her even stare accentuated only by the slight glimmer in her eyes. “It definitely did not involve any sort of espionage, deception, or pilfering.”

“I feel like I should have some kind of moral objection to that, but somehow I feel no such thing,” Aurelia snickered, profusely thanking her again. 

Howzer had been silent the whole time, and when he finally muttered his agreement, his begrudging gratitude was baffling to Aurelia. When Cerra had left them to enjoy the space on their own, she turned to him, noting the few feet of distance between them. 

“You alright?” she invited.

“Yeah,” he nodded flatly. “This is nice.” 

“You’ve seemed so heavy lately,” she said, taking a step closer and reaching out to touch his arm. There wasn’t much of a response.

“I just… I don’t know what is going on right now. We have a huge, endless mission right now. It seems impossible. Lives are at stake. Clones are dying, enslaved, brainwashed… I do what is needed of me and then come home to this… domestic life? It doesn’t make sense.”

Aurelia was silent for a moment, trying to look past the way his words made her feel like more of a burden than a partner, and considered his point of view as best she could. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “Can both be true?”

“Hm?”

“Can you still do all that you’re able, to help your brothers and the cause at hand, and still have some space of your own to sleep in a comfy bed next to someone you love?” Her tone had a touch of insecurity to it, and he fixed his eyes on her more intentionally, worry giving way to affection. 

“I guess,” he consented, and she found that it wasn’t quite the reassurance she’d been hoping for. 

“Am I holding you back?” she finally asked, watching a litany of emotions dance across his face. 

“No,” he answered quickly, stepping closer now and taking her hands in his. “I just feel torn between two worlds. I know I’ve been saying it for a while now. I just haven’t been able to shake it.” 

“Alright. If I were more of a teammate, would that feel better?”

“No,” he repeated, more firmly this time as he held her hands more tightly. “You are a teammate. Every squad needs a medic.” A faint gleam of reminiscence. 

“True, but it’s usually a field medic, no?”

He sighed, tilting his head at her. “Not necessarily. It’s fine. It’s all fine. Just need to get used to it.”

She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. They were united in that.

* * * 

Spirits were high as hoots echoed throughout the hangar. Time had passed, and the sparring had become more rambunctious as it provided as much “fun” as could be had between missions… and before the next season of The Great Galactic Bake-Off. 

Aurelia pushed some stray hairs from her face, cursing her decision to cut some curtain bangs in her curly, dark hair. It was braided and tied at her neck, which was as sweaty as her face as she squared off toward Cerra. The taller woman watched her closely, hands at the ready, and she squinted her eyes a bit as she noticed how much Aurelia had grown in both proficiency and confidence. It made her proud. But that was nothing to consider at present. 

“Come on,” she encouraged, a not-so-subtle taunt. “Let’s see it. You’re holding back on me.”

“Maybe because you can’t take it,” Aurelia panted, a hilarious attempt at a challenge. A cacophony of delight echoed from the clones on the sidelines. Fireball cheered for Cerra. Pivot cheered for Aurelia. Nemec watched with scrutiny. Intensity was rising as the women circled one another, fueled by the onlookers who were starting to place bets, and neither of them noticed Howzer joining the crowd.

Finally, the tension broke as Aurelia leapt toward her opponent with a messy swing that was easily dodged. Cerra countered it with an elbow to the back that sent the breath whooshing from Aurelia’s lungs. She whirled back to face her, eyebrows dropping in indignation, and she flung herself at her again. They exchanged blows, dipping and circling with speed and agility as the shouts from the sidelines grew louder. 

A sweep of the legs from Aurelia sent Cerra toppling to the ground, earning a loud “oooooh!” that quickly morphed into “OOOOOH!” as she quickly brought Aurelia down with her, and the grappling began. It had been clear thus far that the taller woman was considerably more adept in every way, and had been strategic in her forcefulness, but Aurelia’s thinly-veiled frustration that was growing into a rage-fueled animosity beckoned her to go a little harder. 

Limbs flew, noises grew, and sparks of anger and determination flashed between the two as they continued. With a strong kick, Cerra catapulted Aurelia off and leapt to her feet, watching her opponent’s braid break free as she landed hard on her backside with a small yelp of pain. Howzer’s grip tightened on the makeshift fence they’d made with scrapped wires tied to various objects, and his furrowed brow deepened into a full glower. Aurelia scrambled up, even angrier now, and Cerra took a step back, holding up her hands in a temporary pause to regroup. 

“Hey, take a minute… You’re letting your emotions get–”

She didn’t finish her sentence as Aurelia charged her again, flinging her arms around the taller woman’s waist with all the momentum she could muster. They toppled to the ground again, Aurelia’s swipes growing messier as she flailed against Cerra’s quick blocks. Aurelia was nearly completely pinned when she gave one last huge heave, jerking her head up against her opponent, whose arm had been moving toward her shoulder. 

Another chorus of “ohhhh” rose from the sidelines and nearly drowned out Aurelia’s frustrated yell as she was flung back onto the floor, blood spilling from her nose where it had unfortunately crashed into Cerra’s elbow. She smacked her hand on the ground twice and the other woman immediately moved to her knees beside her. 

“Kriff, that’s a good one,” Cerra observed, catching the towel Fireball tossed to her and offering it to Aurelia, who had rolled to the side to sit up, pinching her nose and panting from exhaustion. She took the towel, covering the bottom half of her face with it and resting her head on one arm splayed across her knee. “Here, lemme get a little bit of that…” Cerra murmured, using a corner of the towel to wipe the blood off her arm. 

“Are you kidding me?” Howzer barked, slipping through the “ropes” to approach, sinking onto a knee on Aurelia’s other side. He touched her shoulder softly, exchanging a nearly-silent “you good” and “yeah” before looking up at Cerra. His eyes were darker than she’d ever seen on a clone, mouth set in a firm line as he gritted his teeth before speaking. “I told you to go easy on her.”

“You–” Aurelia huffed indignantly from behind her towel, but Cerra was already speaking.

“What would be the point, then? She wants to learn. That’s how you learn.”

“You were supposed to teach her, not beat her ass just for your own overinflated ego!” he said, voice growing sharper. 

Cerra sat back on her heels, growing still as she regarded him with an unreadable expression. “You think this is about me?” she asked, intimidatingly quiet now. 

“I think you’re tired of the fact that you’re constantly getting beat by clones so you needed a little outlet for your hurt pride,” he answered, matching her energy with a threatening presence of his own. 

“Sounds like you need a little outlet of your own for all those big feelings,” Cerra said, rising to her feet but keeping her eyes on him as she sauntered to take a swig of water from her bottle on the bench.

“Sounds like you need a lesson,” Howzer growled, standing to face her over Aurelia, who was quickly beginning to protest as she scrambled to get up. “Go sit down,” he said to her now, and his tone gave her enough reason to do so, tired and still reeling as she was. She would deal with him like the feminist she was… later. His eyes darted back to Cerra, who was standing in an easy slouch as she flipped the cap back onto her bottle and set it down.

“A lesson?” she echoed as she sauntered back toward him. “What is this, grade school? Or whatever they called it on Kamino?”

But Howzer didn’t answer, rising to his full height and squaring up to her in a wordless challenge as she took the last few steps into his space. They stared at one another, assessing the situation, then sprang into action. It began just like many of her sparring matches with the clones, and she noted how they seemed to have similar approaches. However, her own skills had been honed against ARC troopers, captains, and commandos, and it was beginning to show.

Blows. Blocks. Kicks. Dodges. The clones on the sides were watching quietly now, genuinely interested. The months of Cerra’s training seemed to contrast more and more against the months of Howzer’s imprisonment and torture. While he was still adept with a blaster and his mind for strategy was sharp as ever, his basic physicality seemed to have been diminished a bit. Aurelia watched from the side, biting her lip with concern and indescribable guilt. She wanted to put an end to it, but the energy between the two of them was palpable, and she knew it would only worsen things to get in the middle of it. 

It was not a pretty sight. They were formidable opponents, but as they went from feet to floor and back again, each struggling to gain the upper hand, the toll of Howzer’s trauma began to show. Both covered in sweat and breathing heavily, their strikes were less sharp, their footwork and agility diminished. Cerra was doubly exhausted, stepping back taking a moment to walk in a circle, fists on her hips as they both paused. Howzer bent over, hands on his knees, and let out a loud huff before standing up again. 

“Forget this,” he muttered, staring at her with distaste. 

“That’s not how you end a match,” she returned evenly. 

Feeling an exponentially disproportionate frustration that had very little to do with the actual sparring at hand, Howzer turned to rush her, taking a cheap shot. Cerra ducked, barely in time, and dropped an elbow into his stomach to send him reeling back. She’d knocked the wind out of him, and he fought to minimize his gasp for air, arm clutching his midsection as he doubled over. His sideways glance at Aurelia was met with a dropped jaw and large eyes full of concern on her face, as well as something else… Sadness?

The walk home was quiet and tense.

* * * 

The ship jerked out of hyperspace, but it wasn’t enough to snap Howzer out of his ruminating as he slouched in his seat, adjusting his armor plates and watching the familiar form of Coruscant growing larger in front of them. He felt a sudden strong hatred for the planet, with its nearly total lack of greenery or open space and the oppressive political injustice that spewed from its inhabitants. His desire to blow the whole thing up was softened by other, older thoughts that surfaced as the ship glided toward the surface. 

79s. His terrible flirtation. Aurelia’s wit. The park. The opera house. Aurelia’s depth and delight. Kissing her. Shame and regret. Aurelia’s disappointment. Reunion on Ryloth. Adventure, adoration, and intimacy. Aurelia’s softness. Removing his armor, literally and figuratively. Becoming one, literally and figuratively. And then… 

The pleasant memories vanished like morning fog, replaced by the pain of the sharp turns in their lives and the more recent hostility of their encounter after sparring. It hadn’t gone well that night. He’d been deeply insulted by what he’d called “defeat at the hands of a nat-born”. He’d been indignant at the harm that could have befallen Aurelia. He’d been defensive and angry as he tried to justify his protectiveness, confessing that he just couldn’t lose her again. 

“Who lost who?” she’d replied softly, and his heart had crashed to the ground.

Attempts to clarify, console, or connect had been instantly and definitively rejected. The innumerable feelings and regrets swirling in the tornado between them had created an insurmountable divide, and he’d left to sleep on the couch in the common area of the medical clinic dorm. 

He was called out on a mission early the next morning. 

That was three days ago. 

Radio silence.

Now, as the ship drifted toward the hangar, the outrage had slowly burned down into simmering coals of regret, and he yearned to reconnect with her. He’d had time to reflect on the situation from both perspectives, and he felt as though he had finally reached a place where he could let go of what was or what should be and instead embrace the present, whatever that looked like, and make the best of it. 

The gangplank lowered with a hiss, and he stepped off with the others, shouldering his bag of gear and peering around the hangar through his helmet. It looked entirely deserted. Trying to ignore a pang of disappointment, he followed his brothers to the gear lockers and neatly tucked away his things before heading to the unofficial living room. Fireball was the only one there, dozing on the couch with his DC-17 across his lap. Nemec’s sharp slap on the back of the head startled him back into consciousness with a snort and a sit-up. 

“Nice job guarding the hangar,” Nemec said dryly, and Fireball scrambled to his feet. 

“I– uh, sorry… sir?” Fireball stammered, as groggy as he was ashamed. “I was–”

“This is why you’ll be single forever,” Nemec interrupted, ignoring the surprised and delighted guffaws from the other clones nearby as he shuffled toward the exit with an open-mouthed Fireball staring after him.

Pivot’s laughter slowed to a chuckle as he clapped the younger clone on the back and offered some consolation: “Don’t worry, brother. There’s a he/she/they/it out there somewhere for you if you want that kind of companionship.”

“It?” Fireball managed. 

“Hey, love grows in unexpected places.”

“You are all ridiculous,” Fireball grumbled, shifting his blaster in his hands and resuming his patrol near the hangar entrance.

* * * 

Howzer’s confusion was evident as he scanned the two rooms of their apartment, which were completely deserted and unsettlingly quiet. No sign of her. 

The clinic nurse shrugged dismissively; Aurelia wasn’t scheduled nor had she come in that day.

The common area of the clinic dorm was empty as well.

An uneasy feeling was growing heavier in the pit of his stomach. Where was she?

He took a quick shower, consoling himself with the fact that she was a grown woman, was [fairly] capable of taking care of herself, and had been on Coruscant longer than he, so perhaps she was… running errands… or something. Pulling on his non-combat uniform, he ran a hand through his hair, noting that it was starting to get as scruffy as it had been when he was a shiny, and left the apartment again. 

He wandered a few nearby areas, places he’d heard that they’d procured food or goods from, but didn’t catch sight of her anywhere. Fighting to quell the alarm in his gut, he returned to the hangar to comm Rex, instead feeling a slight relief as he saw the captain sitting near a holotable with Echo. 

“Sir,” Howzer said in a simple greeting as he approached. Rex was no Jedi, but they’d begun to throw the term around as he’d risen to be the prominent leader of their operations, even though he was as collaborative as he was humble.

“Captain,” Rex replied amiably. “How did the scouting mission go?”

Howzer filled him in on the details – landscape, local population, distance of potential sites, accessibility and proximity to hostile systems – and found himself wondering how he’d been stuck with this duty. His rank felt less meaningful these days, in light of new structure and a completely different galaxy. After going through the information as quickly as he could, he finally got to ask a question of his own. 

“Do you know where Aurelia is?”

“Ah. Well, yes. But it’s not… I mean, it’s fine, but–” Rex faltered. Howzer found his attempts at reassurance to be insanely disconcerting.

“Rex,” he said emphatically, swallowing hard as he waited for a clear answer. 

“She’s on a supply run,” Rex said abruptly. Howzer stared. 

“Why?”

“We were spread fairly thin, as you know, with multiple missions at once. She accompanied Gregor and Cerra on a simple supply run to a nearby system that we utilize regularly.” His deliberate emphasis on the indisputable safety of the entire ordeal almost made it worse. 

“Gregor and Cerra? And Aurelia? What good–”

“Look, Howzer. I know you guys are… attached and whatnot.” 

Echo stifled a chuckle at Rex’s word choice, then quickly averted his gaze as the blonde clone continued.

“...but we’re running a full operation here. We need every hand we can get. She was willing. It’s not a risky mission. And she’s with two of our best–”

Howzer scoffed. 

“Alright. Feel whatever you feel about it, but that’s the situation. Now, are you able to chart some of the logistics for this” – he gestured at the holotable – “or not?”

Howzer remained silent, an unfocused stare fixed on the illuminated star map between them. 

“I’m going to get a caf,” Rex said definitively. “When I get back, we’ll begin.” It was clear that no requests or disputes were going to be taken at the time, and he walked with straight shoulders toward the kitchen.

Echo sighed, shifting his weight as he leaned against one of the piles of crates that seemed to litter the entire hangar. He cast a gaze at Howzer, then rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Got something to say?” Howzer asked, a bit more caustic than he’d intended.

“Not if you don’t want to hear it.”

“Go ahead.”

An awkward moment.

“I… uh. I don’t know. It makes sense, how you feel. Our operations here are everything, but not quite everything, you know what I mean?”

“No.”

Echo rolled his eyes. “We are devoted to our mission. Rescuing our brothers and fighting the tyranny that turned the galaxy on its head. But we’re not just numbers anymore…” He stopped abruptly, wincing as though the words had physically stabbed him. He sighed, then continued. “The point is… There are other parts of life that we never thought we’d have the chance to experience… That now we can… While still getting the job done.”

“And what lovely experiences are you exploring amid all this work, trooper?” Again, more scathing than genuine.

Echo snorted quietly, tipping his chin away from the disgruntled clone with a smirk. “Nevermind. You clearly don’t care to hear. I was just trying to offer a different perspective than Sir Works-A-Lot over there.” He jerked his head toward the doorway where Rex had disappeared. 

“An ironic name coming from you,” Howzer noted, less contentious now. 

“Yeah, whatever. You get blown up and see how ironic you can get.”

“Well, I got–”

“Don’t even start. A spear to the face might have rattled your brain, but that’s about it.”

“Fair enough.” A flicker of warmth at the harsh camaraderie.

“Anyway,” Echo said emphatically, as though he were thoroughly exasperated from having to explain it all. “I get the feeling of being torn.” Another pause as he thought of his other family back on Pabu. And yet another as he thought about other… significant individuals… in his life. “It’s karking tedious to try to sort it all out. Sometimes you don’t have to. Just go on, one day at a time.”

Howzer didn’t reply, having enough trouble just trying to sort out the cacophony of thoughts he was having in that very second. The relative peace of mind he’d achieved on the flight home had been wafting away as he’d searched for Aurelia, and it had vanished entirely when he learned where she was. For someone who’d had so little control over so much of his life, it didn’t make sense why he would continue to cling to its illusion now. He hadn’t been able to save Sprint, despite his best efforts. He hadn’t been able to save all his men, despite his best efforts. He hadn’t been able to prevent himself from losing months in an Imperial facility, despite his best efforts. Perhaps his “second chance at life” after his liberation had reset the entire pursuit of control and safety? He sighed. 

“I guess sometimes you really do need to just kriff it, eh?” he muttered. 

The corner of Echo’s mouth curved as he chuckled an answer, “Sometimes that is the best option.” A glimmer of humor passed between them, each interpreting it in their own way, before Echo straightened up with a grunt. Rex was on his way back, so he gave Howzer a swift poke with his scomp. “Don’t reduce your life to one singular thing and miss out on whatever else it has to offer. You’ve got more than one good thing. Don’t kark it up. And don’t forget the kriffing.”

Howzer’s mouth twitched in a fleetingly wry grin before turning back to the holotable where Rex was adjusting the map before them. 

* * * 

“They’re closing in!” Cerra yelled.

“Go around the side; I’ll cover!” Gregor demanded.

Flashes of blue light. Red beams. Alarms blaring in the distance. Or nearby? It was impossible to tell.

“There – get through–”

“I know! Hard to shoot and carry, you know!”

“Come on, Commando.”

“Is now really the time?”

“Is it ever?”

A seemingly insensitive giggle, “Fair enough.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Cover fire. Jolting along to the rhythm of loud footsteps. The roar of an engine getting louder and louder. 

“She doesn’t look fine– Behind you!”

“Fire it up; I’ll get the crate.”

“Forget the crate, Cerra! We’ve got to get her out of here!”

“I’ll be on board by the time you strap her in!”

A string of expletives. A wave of indescribable pain exploding from head to toe. Beeps and hums of a takeoff sequence that slowly fades to match the pounding rhythm of a racing heart. 

“That’s my girl!”

“Gods, you’re ridiculous. Let’s go.”

“Hey, I love you!”

“Don’t start.”

I love you. It echoed in Aurelia’s mind until it gave way to shuddering darkness.

.

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Howzer naturally frequented it much more often, and they had settled into a bit of a routine – her at the clinic and him at the hangar. They’d been able to procure an extra cot for their space, but there were still no larger apartments available, so they’d crammed it into Aurelia’s, leaving virtually no room to walk around it. Climbing across the bed from dresser to refresher sometimes brought a smile, other times a grimace. They hoped to find something bigger, but in the meantime, they made the common area their living room in the few hours they had outside of work and sleep.

The hangar was quite full that day as Aurelia watched from her corner. Howzer was bent over a holotable with Rex and Gregor, brow furrowed as he pointed here and there. Their nods and murmurs were intensely focused on whatever mission was at hand, and she wondered if she should go back to the clinic just to feel useful. As though he could sense her thoughts, Howzer caught her gaze, face softening immediately as he flashed a tiny kiss face in her direction. He flinched and grinned as Rex smacked his arm with a mockingly stern expression, and Howzer immediately arranged his features into diligent solemnity.

They dove back into their strategizing, but within minutes, a couple others appeared at their table. She had seen the clone before – Fireball, she was pretty sure his name was – but her mouth fell open slightly as she noticed that he was accompanied by a woman. Aurelia couldn’t even begin to process it before the new arrival sidled up behind Gregor and wrapped her arms around his waist. She squeezed him tightly, earning an exaggerated roll of the eyes from Rex, then nestled beside him at the table to scan the holographic contents. 

Aurelia was mystified. The woman had an undeniable air of confidence about her, standing tall as she joined in the conversation. Her muscular arm flexed as she ran her hand over her short hair, mussing it up with an agitated scratch before pointing at something and shaking her head. The men seemed to respect and include her as much as any of their brothers, and a slight twist of jealousy joined the befuddled awe in Aurelia’s mind. 

Who was she? Why hadn’t she seen her before? What was her deal with Gregor? How was she so strong and confident? Mind racing with questions, Aurelia didn’t register that they all were looking at her for a few seconds, and when she did notice, she clapped her mouth shut and shifted on her feet. Howzer was gesturing in her direction, and when the woman gave her a curt nod and the hint of a smile, Aurelia felt as though she could melt on the spot. But she also didn’t want to seem like a helpless little corner-dweller, so she took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and strode forward to join them. 

Trepidation rising beneath the five pairs of eyes upon her, she panicked halfway there and instead altered her path toward the makeshift kitchen. Once she’d slipped inside with as much nonchalance as she could convey, she rested against the counter, mentally kicking herself as she hid under the guise of making some caf. A sudden movement in the doorway caught her eye, and she turned quickly to see Gregor, an easy smile on his face.

“Excellent idea,” he nodded, putting her at ease as he began to craft two cups of his own. 

“Might keep me up tonight but right now it feels worth it,” she offered, consciously relaxing her shoulders as she realized they’d climbed nearly up to her ears. 

“Couldn’t agree more!”

They stood in mutual silence as they waited for the pot to finish brewing, cups at the ready with their various accouterments. Finally, Aurelia couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. 

“Okay… Who is that?” she asked, the words bursting out of her with no chill whatsoever. 

“I know, right?” he said with a chuckle, arching an eyebrow at her knowingly. “Absolutely magnificent!”

“I mean, yeah, but–” 

“Name’s Cerra. She’s been a killer part of our operation for a while now.”

“Nice,” Aurelia murmured, the duality of her feelings increasing as she compared herself to the formidable female at the table outside.

“Like you!” Gregor added, bumping his shoulder into hers gently. “Half of us wouldn’t be where we are without your fixin!”

She smiled, shrugging it off. “I’m glad to help… where I can.”

“You don’t sound too glad,” he observed.

“No, I am,” she replied automatically, sighing as she finally met his eyes. “Alright,” she confessed, “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There are so many important missions going on, and I can’t contribute anything. I mean, anyone can patch up some wounds… And I can’t even defend myself. Not much of a soldier.”

“Well, you’re not a soldier.”

“I know–

“And,” he continued pointedly, “You are serving a very important purpose here. I mean, we can do our best to patch ourselves up, and Cerra helps… somewhat… in very vague terms… but we wouldn’t be able to accomplish any of those missions if we weren’t in good shape thanks to you.”

She waited, trying to allow his words to soak in. He picked up the finished pot of caf and began to swirl it into his two cups, comfortable in the silence for a moment before speaking again. She realized he was making an extra, likely for this Cerra woman.

“As far as defending yourself, I’m sure we would all be willing to teach you a thing or two, but uh… Hasn’t Howzer been working on your grappling skills?” 

His roguish grin was met with an authentic snort on her part, and she snatched the pot from him to fill her own cup. On second thought, she reached for a second cup, filling and preparing it the same way. She should have thought of that from the start, she chastised, but let it go as her best attempt at a clever response came to mind.

“Not the kind of grappling I’d want to use on an enemy,” she deadpanned, his giggle bringing a wider smile to her face. “Although definitely not the kind they’d expect, either.”

“Nice,” he winked, finishing his caf creations and jerking his head toward the door. “Come with me?”

“Eh, I… uh…”

“You’ve got to deliver that to Howzer anyway, no?” he moved his eyes from her face to the cup and back. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, giving him one last fond smirk before following him out. 

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Cerra purred as Gregor slipped the cup into her hands. She took a long sip, closing her eyes and basking in its perfection for a second before smiling at Aurelia with significantly more warmth than the first time. “Cerra,” she offered, along with a hand.

“Aurelia,” came the response, and she tried not to let her entire arm shake with the force of Cerra’s greeting. Flexing her fingers as she let go, she picked up Howzer’s caf and handed it to him, everything else fading in the single moment they shared with an intimate gaze. 

“Kriff, you’ve got it bad for each other,” Cerra poked, winking at Gregor as he giggled beside her.

“Clones, you know,” Aurelia answered, disproportionately proud of herself as Cerra gave an approving “heh” in response. 

“So… I was thinking it would be prudent to have everyone in our group be confident in their basic defense skills,” Gregor said suddenly, nodding at his own words. “Aurelia here is a little rusty in her training, and I wondered if you might show her a thing or two when you’ve got time here.” Cerra looked Aurelia up and down, instantly making her feel as though she were completely naked, then nodded along with him. 

“Sounds great,” she agreed, tilting her head at Aurelia. “If you’re interested, that is. Seems you just got volun-told.” A wink to Gregor.

“No, that’d be… helpful, I think…” Aurelia stammered, torn between Cerra’s smooth gaze and the jerky movement of Howzer’s head raising to look at her from behind the woman’s shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it, instead sinking into the stern expression that he wore more often than not lately. 

“I’ll comm you,” Cerra affirmed, touching the outside of her arm in a firm yet kind gesture. “As for now, we’ve got a mess here. Maybe you can see something we don’t.”

They dove back into their strategizing, Cerra having made room at the table for Aurelia to watch and listen as though it were the most natural thing in the world. The men followed her lead, debating and brainstorming with focused intensity. Howzer moved beside her, his gaze lingering on Cerra for a moment before he stood a little straighter. Aurelia was wildly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information being thrown about – stuff that they all seemed to have worked with for a while now yet was all completely new to her. Fighting to keep up, she gathered the basics of the mission and listened curiously as they continued to bicker over conflicting details. 

A few things were falling into place in her mind when she was rudely interrupted by the ping of her comm. Stepping away to check it, she sighed at the message awaiting her – she was needed at the clinic. Normally she loved to be useful, but this wasn’t what she’d call an authentic need. The nurse that had stepped into a managerial role upon Lennox’s departure had a tendency to make anything a crisis, which was an uncharacteristic trait for a medical professional. Aurelia had been the natural successor to the position, but with all that was going on, she didn’t want the added responsibilities. However, she found herself second-guessing the decision now that the staff struggled to adjust to the new personality dynamics. 

Regardless, duty called, so she excused herself from the table and headed for the door. Howzer caught up to her in a few steps, grasping her arm and twirling her back toward him. She opened her mouth in inquisitive protest, but he was cupping her face before she could get a word out. His kiss was deep and passionate, and when he finally pulled back, leaving his hands on her cheeks, he gazed into her eyes with intensity.

“Well that was nice,” she murmured, taking one of his hands in her own and kissing it softly.

“Never gonna take it for granted,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead to hers before releasing her. 

She smiled the entire way to the clinic. 

* * * 

When Aurelia got “home” that night after an unexpected shift that took much longer than anticipated, she headed straight for the refresher, daintily picking her way over the corner of the cot where Howzer was sprawled in blissful slumber. After washing the day off, she pulled on her comfiest pajamas and crawled onto her own cot beside him. There was a small groove between the two where they’d pushed them together as best they could, but they didn’t mind. It was worth the closeness. 

Her arrival roused him a bit, and he rolled over to wrap an arm around her, smiling groggily and murmuring a hello. She slipped her leg between his thighs, nestling into his radiant warmth, and everything felt right in the world. 

“You should quit,” he joked, entwining his fingers with hers where their hands rested against her chest. 

“You should quit,” she returned evenly. “Then we can just do this all day every day.”

“Don’t need food anyway,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, nevermind,” she said somberly. “Food’s important.”

He hummed in agreement. “Speaking of food,” he continued. “Apparently Garr Tevv needs to lose.”

“What?”

“Garr Tevv. On the Galactic Bake-Off. Karking loser.”

She laughed, a deep warmth in her chest at the nonsensical intimacy they shared. “Noted,” she said. “Kriff Garr Tevv.”

“Thassthe spirit.” He was slipping back toward sleep, and she thought it was quite the good idea. Another day of more questions than answers was waiting, but right now, all was well. 

“I love you,” she whispered, feeling his gentle squeeze before she drifted off. 

* * * 

“We need to check it out ourselves,” Rex said firmly, his sentiment echoed by grunts around the room. He was standing straight in the center of the makeshift living room, addressing the others who were piled on the couch and the crates nearby. 

“No way to gather more intel first?” Gregor asked. 

“We don’t have a ton of sources,” Rex reminded him. 

“We can have a look,” Cerra said confidently, Fireball nodding beside her.

“We can indeed,” Rex answered. “You still need to fix the stabilizers on that ship.” Cerra’s face fell at his response, but she kept her mouth shut. For a second at least. 

“How do we not have any other decent mechanics? Where are Trace and Rafa?”

Gregor sighed. “We’ve been over this,” he said with a fond eyebrow in her direction. 

“Things change,” she retorted, words sharp but eyes soft. 

“Alright, it doesn’t matter,” Rex interjected. “We’ll take a small team and the rest of you can continue your duties here.” 

“Fine, but I’ve got next.”

“You’ve got whatever I tell you is next,” Rex teased, and they narrowed their eyes at each other harmlessly. 

Howzer didn’t realize the expression on his face until Gregor elbowed him in the side. Meeting dismissed, they stood and stretched, exchanging a few last words until disbanding for their assignments. Cerra appeared in his field of vision, catching his attention with a quick upward jerk of her chin. 

“Want to give your girl my comm so we can have practice a bit while I’m stuck here? She said she’d show me some actual medical stuff, and I’m pretty sure that’d be wildly useful instead of the hack jobs we’ve been doing around.”

“Alright,” he said slowly, unable to hide the trepidation in his voice. 

“What?” Her words were firm, but not challenging. 

“Just… Be careful.”

“The point is to help her, not hurt her,” Cerra pointed out. “Wouldn’t you feel better with her being able to defend herself a little more?”

“She shouldn’t have to…” he muttered, realizing the naivete of his words as soon as he spoke them aloud. 

“None of us should have to,” she rolled her eyes. “But I don’t have to remind you of the reality we’re all facing.” 

“I know.” His eyebrows sank into the grooves that seemed to grow deeper by the day. “Thanks for watching out for her.”

“I know you’re doing the same,” Cerra reassured, offering the faintest shadow of a smile as she saw his shoulders lower a tiny bit. 

“Mm. See you when we get back.”

* * * 

Aurelia’s entrance into the hangar could not have been less confident, as she walked with one arm holding the other at her side and scanned the area for any sign of anyone. She heard a scuffle around the corner, eyes widening as the sight unfolded before her. 

Cerra was drenched in sweat, squaring up to a clone that Aurelia couldn’t recognize from the back. Had the clinic been doing intake exams for new arrivals without her? She made a mental note to investigate. Not that she was necessarily needed for each one, but she felt a sense of protectiveness over the whole group and enjoyed getting to know each clone individually. 

“Alriiight!” Cerra said loudly, grinning at Aurelia over her opponent’s shoulder. “Now the big guns are here!”

Aurelia laughed aloud, shaking her head in utter disbelief. The clone turned to look, realizing his mistake a split second too late. Cerra had him on the ground immediately, legs wrapped around his middle with a triumphant grunt as he squirmed and squawked in protest. 

“Cheap shot!” he yelled, slamming his hand on the ground twice and clambering to his feet as soon as she released him. He was breathing heavily, glowering at her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then helped her up and clapped her on the back nonetheless. 

“All’s fair in love and war,” she said, giving him a familiar bump on the shoulder before fetching her water bottle from the nearby crate. 

“Oh? So is this love or war?” the clone teased, oblivious to the exaggerated huff of disapproval from Fireball where he watched from the sidelines. The question sounded oddly familiar, and Aurelia squinted as she tried to place it. Or was it the way he said it? She was still unabashedly watching him as he turned to see the “big guns”, his face breaking into a large smile as he laid eyes on her. 

“I knew it!” he laughed, and she was flooded with indignation, assuming he was referring to her diminutive stature. “You always did have it in you, eh?”

Now she was completely baffled. He was so maddeningly familiar, but his standard military cut and lack of any identifying tattoos wasn’t giving her anything to go off of. 

“Ohh,” he lamented, clutching a hand to his heart. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me? All those nights at 79s didn’t mean anything to you?”

Cerra let out a knowing chuckle and wagged her eyebrows at Aurelia, whose mouth dropped at the sudden realization. 

“Pivot?!” she said, eyes lighting up as she walked quickly toward him. “You’re alive!” 

“Don’t sound so stupefied,” he grumbled, pulling her into a huge, sweaty hug that made her grimace at the sudden stickiness and smell. “You only saw me blowing off steam, not blowing up clankers. I was pretty good at it.”

“No, I believe it!” Aurelia said, extricating herself from his embrace before taking a jab. “It’s just that you were so old, even back then…”

“Ha!!” he bellowed, pushing her fondly as she caught her balance with a mischievous grin on her face. “You know it. Kriff, I’ve missed you.”

“I mean, I wasn’t exactly a big part of your life…” she protested, uneasy beneath the compliment.

“You’d be surprised,” the clone said, waxing poetic all of a sudden. “War is all the same. Battle after battle, loss after loss. The sparse time in between where we actually got to feel human… And well, that was…”

“Nice,” Fireball interjected, a somber expression on his face as he’d approached from the side.

“Nice,” Pivot echoed, grinning and turning to clap his brother on the back. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. And you,” he continued, “were the perfect balance of kind and snarky. Kept it lively but you seemed to really like us. Respect us, even. Meant a lot.”

“Well geez.” Aurelia’s eyes were glossy at his words and the sheer volume of memories they evoked. It felt like a lifetime ago, so much more lighthearted and simple despite the anxiety and aimlessness she’d felt without a clear purpose in life. She lost herself in it all for a second, eyes drifting across the floor, then she met his gaze again, warm and clear. “I did like you. And respect you. All of you.” 

“Did?” Pivot prodded, arching his eyebrow so animatedly that Cerra chuckled from her lean on the crates nearby, noting how he looked an awful lot like Gregor when he did that.

“Do,” Aurelia corrected, peering at him from under mockingly stern brows. 

“Mmhmm.”

“As cute as this all is, if we want to get anything done before the fearless warriors return, we need to get at it,” Cerra reminded, flipping the cap back onto her water bottle and swinging her arms out and back across her chest to keep her muscles warm. “You ready to roll, Reli?”

“Smoooooth,” Pivot grinned, nodding as he followed Fireball off to the side. 

“First of all,” Aurelia replied, clenching and releasing her fists as though that were a sufficient warm-up, “Who told you to call me that… And second of all… Nice alliteration.” 

Cerra snorted, moving out to the center of the training area. “First of all, it was our very own Captain Howdy who’s dropped the nickname once or twice. And second of all… nerd.”

“Captain Howdy?” A barely-restrained snicker accompanied the question.

“Howzer… Howz… Howzy… Howdy… It was a journey.”

“Over the last four days?”

“Fast journey.”

“Fair enough.”

***

To set the mood... Rocky Balboa - Theme Song (HD) (youtube.com)

***

In less than an hour, Aurelia was wiped out. Cerra had only gone over the basics of situational awareness, pivot points, and a few simple strikes, but practicing them repeatedly against the rock-solid defense of her trainer had left her wildly disappointed in herself. She was trying to calm her panting, forcing her breaths in and out through her nose, and paced back and forth in the corner as Cerra wiped herself with a towel while exchanging quips with Fireball. 

The same thoughts rankled. This woman was so strong, so competent, so well-trained and clearly able to handle herself in a multitude of situations. She didn’t need anyone to protect her. She wasn’t a drain on someone else’s capacity…

“Hey, you did great today,” her words broke through Aurelia’s rumination, and she looked up to see Cerra extending a hand. She mimicked the motion and was surprised when she grabbed her forearm instead, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. 

“Thanks,” Aurelia mumbled, fidgeting with her fingers as she headed for her bag.

“You’re beating yourself up, aren’t you?”

Damn, she was as observant as she was skilled. Aurelia sighed, staring at the crate for a moment before looking back at her. 

“I know, it’s just the first time. It’s silly to expect–”

“Anything,” Cerra finished, dipping her head to get her point across. “Do you know how long I got my ass kicked on a daily basis before I could start holding my own at all?”

“Like twelve days?” 

“Heh. I wish,” came the mirthful response. “It was a long time. And I’ve had to keep practicing. You think I like getting trashed by this shiny?” She wrapped her arm around Fireball’s neck, attempting to rub her fist into his hair but he pulled away and jabbed her in the side, causing her to drop her arm with a fond chuckle. 

“Shiny…” he grumbled, grinning at her fondly. 

“Anyway,” she continued, regarding Aurelia earnestly. “I see it on your face and it’s not gonna fly. Be proud of yourself. All that you’ve done. Whether or not it looks like what you think it “should”. Besides… about 90% of this is ‘fake it til you make it.’” 

“Fair enough.”

“Plus, you’ve got to make it up to me.”

“Oh?” This caught Aurelia by surprise, and she shifted her bag on her shoulder as she looked curiously to the taller woman.

“What, you think it’s free? You said you’d show me some medical stuff so I don’t have to attempt what probably qualifies as surgery from mimicking janky holos.”

“Ahh, ha. Yes. Name the time and place.”

.

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"Great! So that's it, then..." he said, nodding cheerfully and turning to find a shirt out of the small bag in the corner -- his only belongings. The pitifully small towel was wrapped around his waist, splitting at the top of his thigh, and Aurelia seriously considered calling in to work right then and there. When he stood back up, popping his head through the shirt and grinning at her with his hair in an adorably tousled mess, she suddenly felt her eyes brimming with tears. He immediately furrowed his brows, taking a step closer and placing a hand on each of her shoulders, tilting his head in unspoken inquisition. 

"I just..." she looked toward the ceiling, willing the emotions to be stuffed back down where she thought they belonged, but one defiant tear made its way down her cheek, tickling down to her jawline where it was lovingly caressed off by Howzer. "I can't believe you're here. I can't believe everything that's happened. I know we spent like a whole day crying about it, but..." she took a deep, shuddering breath, "It just feels like a long way from watching sunsets on Ryloth."

His arms wrapped fully around her now and he nestled his cheek on top of her head. "It is," he admitted, one hand calmly roving up and down her spine. "But you know what?" He kissed her hair as she made a muffled little sound in response. "We keep finding each other. And things will keep changing. But we'll keep finding each other." He could feel her shoulders release some of their tension as she pulled him close, arms around his waist, face buried in his neck. "And besides..." he continued brightly, "I'm still the same old idiot I've always been." 

Aurelia laughed now, pulling back to look at him with glistening eyes. She cupped his scarred cheek in a hand, taking in his slightly shadowed features, his diminutive build without his usual armor, and his soulful eyes that held so much within them. "At least you're my idiot," she grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek lightly, "And we'll check your cognitive functions today too."

* * * 

"I can finish these three scans myself, if you want to get out of here," Lennox offered, scanning the remaining charts for the day. Aurelia stifled her automatic tendency to decline and actually considered it for a moment; she had been wondering if it would be awkward to have the three of them in close quarters during his scheduled assessment later. But she was also curious, and she knew Howzer was the type who would try to hide injuries or issues out of his own silly pride or care for her or whatever it was, so that alone made the decision for her. 

"It's okay," she answered, powering up the machine, "I appreciate it though." 

"Hm," Lennox nodded, preparing his own work area. "How are you? Overall?" He paused, giving her a sideways glance -- enough to connect but still slightly guarded. 

"Good," Aurelia answered automatically, smiling at the tilt of his head that wordlessly called out her insincerity. "I mean... I'm so grateful for this job, and I think I'm fully healed... physically, at least..."

"We'll have to do an exam to determine that," he said protectively. "So don't go crazy just yet." A frown tugged at the corner of his lips but he turned away before she could see it. "I'm glad you have him back." His voice was quiet now, arranging the tools on his tray mindlessly. 

Aurelia was eternally grateful for the next patient arriving and sparing her the effort of a considerate answer. Howzer had been rescued with two other clones, and after giving them a few days to settle in after their initial examinations, they were to report back for a full work-up if they wanted to be involved in any future missions with Rex, Echo, and the others. Naturally, all three of them had immediately indicated their interest, and so here they were, appointments lined up for them to be checked off. 

Aurelia had asked the assistant to schedule Howzer last, hoping to surprise him with a date above ground afterward. It was risky, for him at least, but she had ideas. So after the first two clones had been thoroughly scanned and interviewed, it was his turn. As he walked into the exam room, she smiled at the sight of him in his blacks. He met her gaze with unfathomable warmth that was quickly masked as he turned to Lennox, offering him a polite nod that was silently returned. 

“Thanks for coming in, Captain,” said Lennox as he gestured to the exam table. “We need you to be completely motionless for the scan, so if you could remain as still as possible, that’d be great.” He nodded to Aurelia to queue it up. 

"That means no talking," she muttered in Howzer's ear, charmed by the grin he gave her as he slid into the large tube. The machine whirred to life, and Aurelia leaned against it awkwardly, watching Lennox rearrange his tools yet again with his back to her. She felt a need to say something but didn't know what. Lennox finally turned around, eyes glancing to the diagnostic screen before resting on her. 

"So... I'm pretty sure this means you're not considering the mobile medical unit anymore..." he said quietly. 

"Not for now," came her slow answer, eyes lowering. "But who knows where we'll all be in a few months." 

"Mmm," he agreed, wistful gaze moving to the scanner tube now. "Well, you'll be great here. Hopefully we can get you some new trainees."

The thought of being in a position of authority made Aurelia's stomach churn, but she'd internalized one primary concept over the turbulent years: one step at a time. So she pushed the future away for now and settled into the present, returning her gaze to the diagnostic screen. They watched in silence until it was finished, slowly pushing Howzer's exam platform back into the open, allowing him to sit up and rest on splayed hands behind him. 

"Everything looks pretty good," Lennox murmured, eyes scanning the information. "Although… You have some fairly serious internal scarring... tissue report shows significant burns..." His eyebrows furrowed as he put the information together, and he looked back to Howzer, whose expression had changed significantly as he stared at Lennox's medical badge instead of his face. "Were you..." he paused, gaze flickering to Aurelia. "Never mind. It's all healed now, and it shouldn't impede any organ function or overall body movement."

"Come on, Lennox," Aurelia said, although the quaver in her voice betrayed her projection of strength and confidence. "You're not keeping things from me. Neither of you are." She looked sternly from him to Howzer, struck by their equally contrite expressions, neither wanting to be the first to speak. "You were tortured," she said, voice cracking again as she watched the subtle muscle twitch of his jaw, and she swallowed hard to maintain her composure. "What did they do?" 

His mouth curled in a distinct scowl as shadows of the past haunted Howzer's memories for a moment, darkening his rich brown eyes. He kept them low as he answered, with a voice that was monotone and empty of all his usual charisma, "Containment field. Electrostaff. Shock collar. Whatever they felt like." 

The silence was deafening. It wasn't uncommon, but it was never pleasant to hear. Aurelia wanted to press, but it was clear that it wasn't something he wished to revisit anytime soon, so she settled to instead take his hand in hers, entwining their fingers tightly. Lennox shifted on his feet, busying himself with the rest of the diagnostic report. 

"The only things I would recommend are fairly obvious..." Lennox continued, "Good nutrition to allow your body to continue to replenish itself, light to moderate exercise as you feel ready, and good rest, as much as you're able. Other than that, you're functioning well and are suitable for missions as Captain Rex determines."

"Thanks, Doc," Howzer answered, sliding to his feet. "Ma'am," he said, dipping his head toward Aurelia, whose smile felt empty as the details of his experience were still tumbling around her mind. 

"Aurelia, would you mind finishing up in here for tomorrow?" Lennox asked. "I'll escort our patient to the front to finalize his chart, then we can be free for the evening."

"Alright, but--"

"I'll wait for you up front," Howzer interrupted, anticipating her words and reassuring her with a smile as he and Lennox disappeared down the hall. The front desk was empty when the two men arrived, and Howzer turned to the doctor with a questioning look. "Anything else you need before I go?" he inquired politely. 

"No, it looks like you're good to go. Just..." Lennox hesitated, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he considered his next words carefully. "I understand that you're born and bred for missions, but..." Howzer's brows lowered slightly; perhaps he didn't mean it as a slight, but it felt somewhat patronizing nonetheless, reducing his existence in such a way. "There will always be more to do, more to save, more heroics needed..."

The silence between them felt like an eternity, a bottomless chasm of insecurity and fumbling words. It didn't slip past Howzer's attention that Aurelia was notably out of earshot, and this doctor whom she had spent so much time with clearly had something to get off his chest. While he had grown exponentially in his ability to be diplomatic over the years, there was still something to be said for directness. 

"I can see something is weighing on you, Doc. You can just come out and say it."

"Aurelia is an incredible woman," Lennox blurted out, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "She has been through so much, and it's only been... what... a little over a year? The constant questions that had no answers, the loneliness, the agony..." he faltered, clearing his throat to push aside the brimming emotions of what he'd witnessed from her side in that clinic late at night. His words were a knife to Howzer's heart, and the clone now found the floor equally captivating as his stomach churned. 

"You have no idea how much I wish I could change what happened," Howzer answered quietly, voice flat and empty. 

"Well you can now," Lennox said, growing more confident now as he raised his face to look at the clone. "If you're going to string her along…" Howzer's eyes lifted with a small gleam of intensity now, but the doctor's voice continued to rise in volume. "You need to make some decisions about your priorities. You can't just disappear for another year. She deserves to be with someone she can rely on. Someone who can promise a future and keep that promise. It should have been you holding her when she lost her child. Your child."

The words echoed heavily, his mind a whirling tornado of thoughts and intentions, regrets and hopes. Howzer remained quiet, holding his gaze for a moment before looking away, although he didn't attempt to hide the tears welling up in his own eyes. There was a wild sense of indignation raging in his chest, a desire to put this doctor in his place with sharp words and tight fists. But there was also a deep, gaping hole in his heart, an entire year of his life taken from him, so much happening that he wasn't even aware of, and a thick layer of sadness that coated everything with regret and humility. 

"You're right."

Lennox tilted his head, surprised by the admission without defensiveness or quarreling. He hadn't expected that; he'd been preparing himself to teach this clone a lesson about recklessness and responsibility. He didn't know how to respond now, instead lowering his eyes to the empty desk beside them. 

"There is no excuse," Howzer continued, his posture somehow resolute and resigned at the same time. "If I had known then what I know now... Ah, it doesn't matter," he waved dismissively, voice thick with emotion. He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room, then he fixed his gaze on Lennox once again. "Thank you... for being there for her." 

Lennox stared at him in disbelief. Both men were too stunned by the exchange happening between them to notice Aurelia's silent approach from the hallway, her pause as she sensed the tension in the room and waited out of sight but within earshot.

"Thank you for taking care of her. For being someone she could turn to..." Howzer faltered now, choking on his own sentiment. He shook his head as though he could reset his brain. "But I assure you," he continued, gaze even and steady now, "I have a clear perspective for the future."

* * * 

Aurelia joined Howzer in the lobby after a short goodbye to Lennox, and she immediately felt as though she were stepping into a thick cloud of awkward silence. They moved out into the street, hands finding one other in a gentle grasp, and began to walk aimlessly. She was temporarily thrown off any plans she’d had for the evening by the multi-faceted feelings emanating from him. 

“You alright?” she asked softly.

“Hmm?“

“You alright?” she repeated. “It felt weird when we left. Did Lennox do something?”

Howzer gazed at her for a few seconds, then lowered his eyes to the ground as they walked. She waited patiently, brushing a thumb along the side of his hand.

“He gave me a bit of a lecture,” he began. 

“What made him think–”

“He cares about you a lot,” Howzer interrupted, looking at her again with an indiscernible expression. The unnatural lighting of the Coruscant underworld illuminated his face at harsh angles, and she was struck again by the subtle changes. There was a gauntness to his cheeks and an indescribable depth to his eyes that carried more than she’d ever seen. He glanced away as he continued. “I assume it’s not a surprise to you.”

“Howzer, I never–” 

“I know. I trust you,” he jumped in again. “It just… hurts. And yet I’m grateful for it at the same time. I don’t know what to make of all of this. Honestly, I thought I was going to die. Clones were shipped out of the prison all the time, and while we never knew where they were being taken, it didn’t sound like anything hopeful from the way the officers talked about it. And anyone who resisted was…” He choked, clamping his mouth shut. The muscles in his cheeks flexed as he gritted his teeth together. 

Aurelia remained silent, holding his hand more tightly. Her mind flashed back to the images on his scan. She couldn’t imagine.

“Anyway, the doctor basically told me to get some perspective. About my choices, future options, our life…”

Our life. The words settled in her heart, a soothing balm to her rising concerns about his restless demeanor, yet he didn’t offer any clarity about said perspective.

“But we don’t have to figure anything out right now,” he continued briskly. He met her eyes again and the pain was quickly masked by his usual sparkle, although it lacked a bit of its luster. “Let’s enjoy our time before you get called to work for another midnight arrival.”

“Alright,” she agreed, letting it go for now. She was grateful that he was so forthcoming about his thoughts and feelings, and yet she knew there was much to consider and discuss. It took a monumental effort to push the possibilities aside, and she stopped walking, pulling him to face her. “Hey,” she said softly, releasing his hand to stroke the back of his head, heart thrilling at the way it lowered his shoulders a fraction of an inch. “I haven’t found any interesting ‘spots’ down here that are worth our time. Want to just get some food and turn in?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face. They chatted amiably about nothing at all as they made their way to a food cart, ordered a lackluster array of wraps and skewers, then took them to the dormitory above the clinic. Her room was claustrophobically small, and they had yet to find any other option for the two of them to share, so they opted for the common room and snuggled close on the couch to peruse the dinner spread. 

Minutes passed with gently playful banter and reminiscence about funny moments or memories that felt like another lifetime. Some had a cheering effect while others were tinged with the perspective of the present and were carefully navigated away from. They ate slowly, sharing bites with one another and leaning in as closely as they could. Aurelia wanted to wrap herself in him and never let go. 

“Hey, didn’t you have a physical exam recently too?” he asked, remembering her offhanded comment a few days before. 

“Mmhmm.”

“See, it’s not fair that you got to be at mine and I didn’t–”

“I’m a medic,” she grinned. “Because of you, actually. So…”

“Hmmph.”

“Anyway, everything was normal. Well, except a bit of a heart condition,” she deadpanned.

“What?” He sat up sharply, looking at her with immediate concern.

“Yeah,” she continued, a bit of a smirk dancing across her face now. “Heart rate seems to increase exponentially when thinking of one person in particular. Complete and total infatuation.”

He snorted, shaking his head fondly beneath a wave of relief. Once they’d finished the food, Howzer reclined, stretching an arm across her shoulders as she tucked her feet on the couch and nestled into his side. He leaned his cheek on her head, staring wordlessly out the window at the neon lights and dismal architecture of the underworld. Her hand found his knee, then absently stroked up his thigh, again noting the diminished ratio of muscle to bone as she stopped to rest her palm halfway up.

“A little higher…” he murmured, earning a giggle from her. It lifted her spirits a disproportionate amount, and she acquiesced, sliding it at a tantalizing rate. His new clothing looked like Captain Rex’s the first time she saw him, and she relished the ability to be close to him without the hard plates of his armor. She stopped at the top of his thigh, turning her face up to nuzzle his neck and place a chaste kiss on it. His minute shiver was followed by a tightening of his arm around her shoulders. “It seems like you’re telling me it’s time to go,” he grinned. 

“You’re the one who told me to–”

But he was already on his feet, clearing the table and heading for the trash can. He waited for her to swipe her card to access the apartment, and she glanced around the tiny room as the door whooshed shut behind them. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest snugly, and now it was he who dropped his lips to her neck. Light kisses grew heavier, and she rested her arms atop his, pulling them even more tightly around her. A heat was quickly growing in her core, likely mimicked in his own judging by the way his body was shifting against her more and more. 

“Howzer,” she said quietly, worshipfully enough that it sent a tingle down his spine and yet protestingly enough that it gave him pause. 

“Not feeling it?” he said, slowing his movement to simply resting his lips against her shoulder. 

“You know I’m feeling it,” she sighed, squirming around to face him. He didn’t let go. “But… I need to get an implant before… Well, before we can enjoy all of that again.”

“Ah,” he nodded, suddenly anxious about how to navigate it all. So much surprise, so much regret. “I… uh… I’m sorry.” She lowered her head to rest it on his shoulder, looking away at the stark gray wall. 

“It’s okay. I should have thought of it from the start. I thought…” she swallowed, somewhat sheepish now. “I thought I heard somewhere that clones couldn’t reproduce.”

“Makes sense,” he mused, distracted by the sensation of her actually referring to him as a clone, which was simultaneously novel and somewhat offputting. There was no reason for him to feel that way; it was the same as him calling her a nat-born… He shook it off. “So… we need to wait until you get that?”

“Yeah,” she said, lifting her head to look at him.

“Alright,” he said in a sudden businesslike tone, stepping toward the door and taking her hand. “Off to the clinic. Let’s go.” She laughed, tugging him back to her. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she admonished, although she would very much like to get it right then and there.

“Aren’t you a medic?”

“I can’t do it to myself,” she laughed. 

“Well you can tell me how. Come on.”

“Oh my gosh.” The mental picture was beyond ridiculous. The central Imperial facility had much more modern technology where it could be inserted with a simple shot, anywhere in the body, but the underworld clinic was still stuck with old-fashioned methods, so the process required a more invasive approach. “Tomorrow,” she insisted, unable to wipe the grin from her face. “Although… I have bad news…”

“Hit me.”

“We’ll still have to wait three days for it to kick in.”

Howzer’s overly-dramatic reaction solidified her smile as he collapsed against the door, pressing the back of a hand to his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as though he couldn’t bear it. It reminded her of the first time he took off his armor, and she was on him in a second. 

A stifled “mmph” was all he could get out as her lips crashed into his, hands splayed on his chest and body pressed against every inch of him that she could reach. He inhaled loudly through his nose, tilting his face to meet her and cupping the back of her head immediately. She could feel his heart racing beneath her palms, and she slotted a thigh between his legs to get even closer. His other hand found the small of her back, holding her close as he deepened the kiss, pulling away for a quick breath and a smoldering look into her eyes before diving back in. 

There was a hunger in it, a desperation that fanned the flame, and she slid one hand around the back of his neck, matching his energy. His lips parted, open-mouthed kisses growing in their dizziness-inducing ardor, and he buried his fingers in her hair, clenching them tightly. She didn’t even realize how much she had begun to writhe against him, lost as she was in his taste and touch, until he pulled away with a gasp.

“You…” he breathed, flinging his head back against the door with a clumsy thunk. “You can’t… You’re killing me.” The look on his face was incendiary – burning desire and thin restraint competed in his chocolate brown eyes – and Aurelia was struck by just how much she liked the way it made her feel. 

“Sorry,” she purred, stroking his cheek as he closed his eyes for a second. “We can’t do… that… but that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything else…” His eyes flew open, lips pressed together as though it was taking all he had to control himself, and he pushed himself off the door to stand up straight. After a single deep sigh, he tipped her chin up with a single hooked finger, brushing his thumb across her lower lip and failing to hide the tiniest shudder in his breath. 

“Doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend three days.”

.

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The result of his efforts was fairly satisfying, however. He’d moved their tiny table to the center of the room (a whopping two feet away from its corner) and had thrown a few of the glow rods into an old canister that he’d poked holes into, allowing their colors to illuminate the small selection of snacks he’d gathered. They were arranged meticulously around a single bottle of fizz and two tin cups, and the entire assortment was garnished with the remains of what might have been a few flowers at one point in time. He wasn’t exactly an expert navigator of the underworld, nor did he have the time or resources to venture much further, so while it was a feeble gesture, at least his good intentions would shine through… Right?

He checked the chrono. There was no scheduled arrival time for her return, so he added a few final touches to his little display, then also noticed it might be wise to pick up some of his crap that he’d left around the apartment. After a thorough, wholehearted effort, the place was as spotless as it was welcoming. And he was left with nothing else to do. Except perhaps clean himself.

Strolling into the hangar half an hour later, he was mildly relieved to see Rex, alone with the holotable and a few datapads, and after a fleeting thought of whether or not Rex ever did anything else, he joined him at the table. 

“Couldn’t wait, hmm?” Rex needled, fixing Howzer with a knowing glance.

“For what?” Howzer deadpanned. “I’m here to devote my time and soul to the glorious cause.”

“Sure,” Rex nodded. “Anyway…”

Time passed, strategy was discussed, and Howzer kept trying to shrug off the nagging accusation that he was only using half his brain while the other half was absently listening for any sound of any approaching spacecraft. 

* * * 

Murky dreams floated through Aurelia’s head as the ship sped through hyperspace on its way back to the base. They were sporadic and random, with no chronological order and many missing details. 

Fumbling to catch a blaster; it landed in her lap in her seat on the ship. “Just point and pull,” Cerra said.

Breathy moans of passion.

Dark alleyways with sinister shadows from shifting neon lights and broken beams cast from windows and doors.

“Teach me? With a blaster?” 

The steady beeps of the ship’s controls.

Striving to be a soldier. Burdening Howzer.

A muffled cry of climax.

Searing pain across her shoulder. 

Point and pull, point and pull.

* * * 

It felt like ages when the familiar sound of landing gear reached Howzer’s ears, and he left Rex mid-sentence to trot out to the platform. The ship dropped with a messy thunk, and he made a mental note to tease Gregor about that later. Stabilizers hissed as the gangway lowered, and his thinly-restrained joy was immediately pulverized by grotesque fear at the sight of Gregor rushing toward him with a limp, blood-splattered form in his arms. He ran to meet the commando, eyes full of fear as the extent of her injuries became visible. 

Aurelia’s arm was messily wrapped with some gauze, a bacta patch sticking out on all sides, but her head was entirely covered with some kind of blanket or shirt… There had been a feeble attempt to clean off the blood, but it was everywhere – her clothes, her ears, the sides of her neck. Her face was barely visible beneath the cloth, and her peaceful expression of unconsciousness was a jarring contrast to her gruesome appearance.

Without his permission, Howzer was back on Ryloth, explosions echoing in the distance and flames engulfing nearby houses as he dug through the wreckage. He didn’t even notice how the wreckage scraped his hands as he pushed and pulled, fueled on by the muffled cries for help. The last thing he saw was Sprint’s mangled body, pinned by the rocks and beams that had taken his life, and the small Twi’lek boy that he’d given it for.

Then the same fear and powerlessness jerked him back into the present.

* * * 

“Okay. The details now,” Howzer commanded over the steady beeps and whirrs in the small room at the med clinic. His gaze was evenly fixed on Gregor, hands resting awkwardly on his legs as though they were barely able to resist being tightly clenched into fists. Aurelia had been cleaned up, scanned, and treated as much as possible; now it was just a wait for her return to consciousness.

“The supplier’s a karking idiot,” Gregor began, holding his hands up as Howzer opened his mouth. “Cool your ion engines.” His giggle was immediately quelled by a flicker of abhorrence. Howzer remained motionless. “Alright,” he continued, “The supplier scheduled two pickups at once. Two different clients. And apparently didn't inform either of us. So we show up, the other guy gets spooked cause he didn't expect us, and... Let’s just say our negotiations didn’t work so well.” Another involuntary chuckle. “We got out to the alleyways and worked our way back to the ship. Aurelia got shot in the arm, well, grazed…” 

Howzer shifted his weight. There was more.

“...and…” Gregor paused, eyes flitting from one spot on the wall to another. “She ran into a durasteel cross-beam and knocked herself out,” he finished lamely.

Howzer stared, dumbfounded. 

“I mean… It was really dark, and there were guys everywhere…” Gregor offered. “Oh! And she got a few good shots off!” 

Howzer sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand. She shouldn’t have been there in the first place. And she needed to be able to defend herself. She shouldn’t be so helpless. But she shouldn’t be out in the field at all. But in these times… 

“Look,” Gregor interrupted his thoughts, “All things considered, it could have been much worse. You and I both know how kriffed up the galaxy is right now. We can’t even protect ourselves, eh? Unless you booked your own stay at that imperial facility, heh. I definitely didn’t make a reservation!” Howzer glanced at him, initial flare of indignation tempered by the memory of their shared experience in that area. 

“I get it,” he responded, as unconvincing as it was pessimistic. 

“Alright,” Gregor sighed, rising to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it. Maybe you can calm yourself down with a nice little cuddle.” He giggled, waggling his eyebrows toward Aurelia. “I mean, when she’s awake, of course. Or not, I don’t know.”

“Mhm.” As the commando took his leave, Howzer rolled his stool closer to Aurelia’s bedside, taking her hand in his. His thumb traced idle circles across her knuckles, then he brought them to his mouth for a kiss. 

* * * 

The familiar smells of home that welcomed Aurelia back into the world were as soothing as they were confusing. Her brain flickered with memories of an experience that didn’t match the reality of where she was. Unfathomably comfortable beneath the warm covers of their bed, she shifted a bit to glance around the room. The small movement provoked a reverberating ache throughout her head, and she clapped her hands to it, regretting that instantly as well. There was a dull pain in her arm, but it was nothing compared to the thunder between her ears. 

A need for the refresher finally forced her to get out of bed, then she ventured out into the main living area. Their table had been moved, and she felt a bit confused as she took in the unusual array set out upon it. Fizz, cups, a can with holes in it, crumpled petals? At least there were snacks. She peered into the canister, noting dull, clear tubes inside. Odd. 

The door slid open, startling her into a jerk of the head that made her hiss, holding a hand to its side, but she was pleasantly distracted by the sight of Howzer awkwardly clambering through the doorway with an unwieldy assortment of bags and a box. He dropped it carelessly onto the counter and was by her side in an instant, one hand on the small of her back and the other hovering a millimeter above her cheek as though afraid of breaking it. 

“Stars, you’re awake,” he said, face soft and eyes wide as they searched hers. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a cruiser,” she muttered, tipping her face into his hand ever so slowly. 

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah… We were running in an alleyway, and I think I got shot in the arm…” she gestured to her bicep, where the bacta patch had already worked most of its magic. “And then…” She fell silent, mouth pressing into a thin line as her eyes lowered to the floor. “Then I got hit in the head.” 

Howzer brushed a feather-light thumb across her cheekbone. “Yeah, that’s about what Gregor said too. Well, at least your memory wasn’t affected.”

“I guess so. Maybe we can still be joint founders of the brain impairment club,” she grinned, and again he was subjected to an unprovoked memory of Sprint similarly teasing him after he’d been injured by a Twi’lek spear. Her face fell as she saw his reaction. “I’m kidding,” she said softly. “Sorry…”

“No, it’s okay,” he answered, taking a deep breath and looking back up to her. “It… It was something my brother said to me after I got this.” He gestured to his cheek, and now it was her turn to trace fingers along the jagged edges of the scar. 

“Sprint?” she whispered. He nodded, lowering his hand to rest both on her hips as she stroked his face. 

Aurelia murmured her apologies, and after a small sigh, he resumed a more businesslike manner. “Anyway… We need to make sure you’re alright. The clinic said to keep a close watch on you. They kicked you out early because they needed the room.” The dark look on his face suggested that he hadn’t agreed with this decision. “So even though you’re here, it doesn’t mean it’s business as usual.”

“There is no business as usual these days,” she said with a glimmer in her eye. 

He pulled her a little closer. “I can think of some rituals we could implement… for some stability.”

She laughed, invoking a small pang of pain, and nestled into his chest with a sigh. 

“Oh!” he continued, gesturing toward the box and bags. “I brought breakfast!” 

Aurelia took care to move very slowly this time, inspecting the goods curiously. “For an entire squadron?”

“I mean, I could invite them to join us if you want…”

“I’d like you all to myself, thank you. Well, you and this…” She pulled some kind of warm, gooey pastry out and licked the side of it where some icing had slid down. Howzer watched, squinting a bit.

“Keep that up and we’ll be implementing the rituals right now…” he rumbled, and Aurelia chuckled, careful not to throw her head back. 

“Howzer,” she chided. “I’m an innocent victim of a dangerous mission, to be treated as a delicate flower…”

“I could do that,” he murmured, taking a step closer. Despite all the heaviness and lack of clarity and tumult of their lives, her heart skipped a beat. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly drew her tongue across the icing atop the pastry. He closed his eyes as though pained, then turned away dramatically. “You’re terrible.”

“Didn’t you get used to this kind of thing on Ryloth?” she teased, and he made a face at her. 

“You know that wasn’t my–”

“Oh, I meant with your mirror.”

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“I’m counting on it.”

* * * 

The next few days passed in blessed monotony. Howzer was called to the hangar for mission planning, but none were departing in the immediate future. The other clones busied themselves with sparring, inspecting gear and weapons, and various mechanical repairs and improvements. Gregor’s cooking was a merciful reprieve from the rations bars they relied on when funds were tight. Echo would often disappear in the evenings, and in seemingly coincidental timing, they would find an influx of credits come their way soon afterward. Any time outside of Howzer’s duties was spent with Aurelia in their home. They curled up together on the couch, reminiscing, dozing, chatting idly about everything and nothing. 

Both intentionally avoided certain topics, however. Howzer’s resolve to let up on the stress of figuring everything out and his relentless pursuit of control and safety had been severely shaken by the unexpected twists and turns, and Aurelia’s nagging feeling of being a burden refused to go away. All of that could wait, however, as long as they stayed snug and cozy in each other’s arms. 

“Your hair almost looks like it did when we first met,” she mused, running her fingers through it and feeling him relax even more.

“Yeah. You like it?”

“I don’t know… Are you going to get sucker-punched by a pirate and puke on my floor, or are you going to read me poetry in a park?”

“Ugh. Don’t mention that,” Howzer grimaced. 

“The pirate or the poetry?”

“Either!” he said with a smirk. Her best attempt at elbowing him was a pathetic shift of her arm. 

“Hey, the poetry was sweet! It made me realize you weren’t just a hot piece of–”

“Ssshhh,” he interrupted, touching the tip of his nose to her lips. “I was just trying to get laid.”

A laugh burst out of her, and she rested her forehead against his chin to minimize the wave of pain that it brought on. “And how did that work out for you?”

“I mean…” He shifted his hips against her, earning one last snort. 

“Oof, that reminds me…” Aurelia began, but Howzer saw his chance and took it.

“That it’s about that time?” He wiggled his pelvis again.

“Stoppp,” she smiled. “But really… I heard some… uh… noises… on our way to the depot. On the ship. And it was just me and Gregor and Cerra.”

“Look,” he said pertly. “Sometimes a guy’s gotta do what a guy–”

“No!” she interrupted. “It wasn’t just one person.” She wiggled her eyebrows and now it was she who arched her back to grind her butt against him. He gasped.

“You slept with Gregor?” Shocked dismay. Entirely theatrical.

“Yeah, he’s just… uh… Nevermind, I can’t even joke…”

“Maybe you kept your memory but it looks like your sense of humor got knocked loose…”

“Howzer,” she giggled, pulling her head back to look at him and wincing.

“It’s gonna hurt for a while, according to Big Nurse,” he said, turning immediately serious despite his use of the nickname they’d secretly implemented for the large and in charge woman who’d taken over the clinic when Aurelia had evaded the position after Lennox left . 

“I know, it’s fine,” she pushed, hurrying to continue. “Now stop talking. I think Gregor and Cerra are… you know…” 

“Having a little bam-bam in the ham?”

An ungodly guffaw burst from her lips. 

“He’s filling her out like an application? Shooting the meat rocket into the sausage wallet?”

“What!” she cackled. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Take your pants off and I’ll show you how it does.”

“Gods, Howzer,” she reveled, bursting with fondness. “When do you have time to think of all of these?”

“I was on Orn Free Taa’s security detail for a while, remember? Plenty of time to think, since I was either standing outside the senate or outside a restaurant virtually all day every day.”

“And this is what you’d think about?”

“I don’t have to explain my choices to you,” he smiled, kissing her forehead. 

“You’ve definitely made some questionable ones,” she murmured.

“Well you aren’t one of them.”

Her heart swelled in her chest and they fell silent for a while, connected and content. 

.

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The result of his efforts was fairly satisfying, however. He’d moved their tiny table to the center of the room (a whopping two feet away from its corner) and had thrown a few of the glow rods into an old canister that he’d poked holes into, allowing their colors to illuminate the small selection of snacks he’d gathered. They were arranged meticulously around a single bottle of fizz and two tin cups, and the entire assortment was garnished with the remains of what might have been a few flowers at one point in time. He wasn’t exactly an expert navigator of the underworld, nor did he have the time or resources to venture much further, so while it was a feeble gesture, at least his good intentions would shine through… Right?

He checked the chrono. There was no scheduled arrival time for her return, so he added a few final touches to his little display, then also noticed it might be wise to pick up some of his crap that he’d left around the apartment. After a thorough, wholehearted effort, the place was as spotless as it was welcoming. And he was left with nothing else to do. Except perhaps clean himself.

Strolling into the hangar half an hour later, he was mildly relieved to see Rex, alone with the holotable and a few datapads, and after a fleeting thought of whether or not Rex ever did anything else, he joined him at the table. 

“Couldn’t wait, hmm?” Rex needled, fixing Howzer with a knowing glance.

“For what?” Howzer deadpanned. “I’m here to devote my time and soul to the glorious cause.”

“Sure,” Rex nodded. “Anyway…”

Time passed, strategy was discussed, and Howzer kept trying to shrug off the nagging accusation that he was only using half his brain while the other half was absently listening for any sound of any approaching spacecraft. 

* * * 

Murky dreams floated through Aurelia’s head as the ship sped through hyperspace on its way back to the base. They were sporadic and random, with no chronological order and many missing details. 

Fumbling to catch a blaster; it landed in her lap in her seat on the ship. “Just point and pull,” Cerra said.

Breathy moans of passion.

Dark alleyways with sinister shadows from shifting neon lights and broken beams cast from windows and doors.

“Teach me? With a blaster?” 

The steady beeps of the ship’s controls.

Striving to be a soldier. Burdening Howzer.

A muffled cry of climax.

Searing pain across her shoulder. 

Point and pull, point and pull.

* * * 

It felt like ages when the familiar sound of landing gear reached Howzer’s ears, and he left Rex mid-sentence to trot out to the platform. The ship dropped with a messy thunk, and he made a mental note to tease Gregor about that later. Stabilizers hissed as the gangway lowered, and his thinly-restrained joy was immediately pulverized by grotesque fear at the sight of Gregor rushing toward him with a limp, blood-splattered form in his arms. He ran to meet the commando, eyes full of fear as the extent of her injuries became visible. 

Aurelia’s arm was messily wrapped with some gauze, a bacta patch sticking out on all sides, but her head was entirely covered with some kind of blanket or shirt… There had been a feeble attempt to clean off the blood, but it was everywhere – her clothes, her ears, the sides of her neck. Her face was barely visible beneath the cloth, and her peaceful expression of unconsciousness was a jarring contrast to her gruesome appearance.

Without his permission, Howzer was back on Ryloth, explosions echoing in the distance and flames engulfing nearby houses as he dug through the wreckage. He didn’t even notice how the wreckage scraped his hands as he pushed and pulled, fueled on by the muffled cries for help. The last thing he saw was Sprint’s mangled body, pinned by the rocks and beams that had taken his life, and the small Twi’lek boy that he’d given it for.

Then the same fear and powerlessness jerked him back into the present.

* * * 

“Okay. The details now,” Howzer commanded over the steady beeps and whirrs in the small room at the med clinic. His gaze was evenly fixed on Gregor, hands resting awkwardly on his legs as though they were barely able to resist being tightly clenched into fists. Aurelia had been cleaned up, scanned, and treated as much as possible; now it was just a wait for her return to consciousness.

“The supplier’s a karking idiot,” Gregor began, holding his hands up as Howzer opened his mouth. “Cool your ion engines.” His giggle was immediately quelled by a flicker of abhorrence. Howzer remained motionless. “Alright,” he continued, “The supplier scheduled two pickups at once. Two different clients. And apparently didn't inform either of us. So we show up, the other guy gets spooked cause he didn't expect us, and... Let’s just say our negotiations didn’t work so well.” Another involuntary chuckle. “We got out to the alleyways and worked our way back to the ship. Aurelia got shot in the arm, well, grazed…” 

Howzer shifted his weight. There was more.

“...and…” Gregor paused, eyes flitting from one spot on the wall to another. “She ran into a durasteel cross-beam and knocked herself out,” he finished lamely.

Howzer stared, dumbfounded. 

“I mean… It was really dark, and there were guys everywhere…” Gregor offered. “Oh! And she got a few good shots off!” 

Howzer sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand. She shouldn’t have been there in the first place. And she needed to be able to defend herself. She shouldn’t be so helpless. But she shouldn’t be out in the field at all. But in these times… 

“Look,” Gregor interrupted his thoughts, “All things considered, it could have been much worse. You and I both know how kriffed up the galaxy is right now. We can’t even protect ourselves, eh? Unless you booked your own stay at that imperial facility, heh. I definitely didn’t make a reservation!” Howzer glanced at him, initial flare of indignation tempered by the memory of their shared experience in that area. 

“I get it,” he responded, as unconvincing as it was pessimistic. 

“Alright,” Gregor sighed, rising to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it. Maybe you can calm yourself down with a nice little cuddle.” He giggled, waggling his eyebrows toward Aurelia. “I mean, when she’s awake, of course. Or not, I don’t know.”

“Mhm.” As the commando took his leave, Howzer rolled his stool closer to Aurelia’s bedside, taking her hand in his. His thumb traced idle circles across her knuckles, then he brought them to his mouth for a kiss. 

* * * 

The familiar smells of home that welcomed Aurelia back into the world were as soothing as they were confusing. Her brain flickered with memories of an experience that didn’t match the reality of where she was. Unfathomably comfortable beneath the warm covers of their bed, she shifted a bit to glance around the room. The small movement provoked a reverberating ache throughout her head, and she clapped her hands to it, regretting that instantly as well. There was a dull pain in her arm, but it was nothing compared to the thunder between her ears. 

A need for the refresher finally forced her to get out of bed, then she ventured out into the main living area. Their table had been moved, and she felt a bit confused as she took in the unusual array set out upon it. Fizz, cups, a can with holes in it, crumpled petals? At least there were snacks. She peered into the canister, noting dull, clear tubes inside. Odd. 

The door slid open, startling her into a jerk of the head that made her hiss, holding a hand to its side, but she was pleasantly distracted by the sight of Howzer awkwardly clambering through the doorway with an unwieldy assortment of bags and a box. He dropped it carelessly onto the counter and was by her side in an instant, one hand on the small of her back and the other hovering a millimeter above her cheek as though afraid of breaking it. 

“Stars, you’re awake,” he said, face soft and eyes wide as they searched hers. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a cruiser,” she muttered, tipping her face into his hand ever so slowly. 

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah… We were running in an alleyway, and I think I got shot in the arm…” she gestured to her bicep, where the bacta patch had already worked most of its magic. “And then…” She fell silent, mouth pressing into a thin line as her eyes lowered to the floor. “Then I got hit in the head.” 

Howzer brushed a feather-light thumb across her cheekbone. “Yeah, that’s about what Gregor said too. Well, at least your memory wasn’t affected.”

“I guess so. Maybe we can still be joint founders of the brain impairment club,” she grinned, and again he was subjected to an unprovoked memory of Sprint similarly teasing him after he’d been injured by a Twi’lek spear. Her face fell as she saw his reaction. “I’m kidding,” she said softly. “Sorry…”

“No, it’s okay,” he answered, taking a deep breath and looking back up to her. “It… It was something my brother said to me after I got this.” He gestured to his cheek, and now it was her turn to trace fingers along the jagged edges of the scar. 

“Sprint?” she whispered. He nodded, lowering his hand to rest both on her hips as she stroked his face. 

Aurelia murmured her apologies, and after a small sigh, he resumed a more businesslike manner. “Anyway… We need to make sure you’re alright. The clinic said to keep a close watch on you. They kicked you out early because they needed the room.” The dark look on his face suggested that he hadn’t agreed with this decision. “So even though you’re here, it doesn’t mean it’s business as usual.”

“There is no business as usual these days,” she said with a glimmer in her eye. 

He pulled her a little closer. “I can think of some rituals we could implement… for some stability.”

She laughed, invoking a small pang of pain, and nestled into his chest with a sigh. 

“Oh!” he continued, gesturing toward the box and bags. “I brought breakfast!” 

Aurelia took care to move very slowly this time, inspecting the goods curiously. “For an entire squadron?”

“I mean, I could invite them to join us if you want…”

“I’d like you all to myself, thank you. Well, you and this…” She pulled some kind of warm, gooey pastry out and licked the side of it where some icing had slid down. Howzer watched, squinting a bit.

“Keep that up and we’ll be implementing the rituals right now…” he rumbled, and Aurelia chuckled, careful not to throw her head back. 

“Howzer,” she chided. “I’m an innocent victim of a dangerous mission, to be treated as a delicate flower…”

“I could do that,” he murmured, taking a step closer. Despite all the heaviness and lack of clarity and tumult of their lives, her heart skipped a beat. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly drew her tongue across the icing atop the pastry. He closed his eyes as though pained, then turned away dramatically. “You’re terrible.”

“Didn’t you get used to this kind of thing on Ryloth?” she teased, and he made a face at her. 

“You know that wasn’t my–”

“Oh, I meant with your mirror.”

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“I’m counting on it.”

* * * 

The next few days passed in blessed monotony. Howzer was called to the hangar for mission planning, but none were departing in the immediate future. The other clones busied themselves with sparring, inspecting gear and weapons, and various mechanical repairs and improvements. Gregor’s cooking was a merciful reprieve from the rations bars they relied on when funds were tight. Echo would often disappear in the evenings, and in seemingly coincidental timing, they would find an influx of credits come their way soon afterward. Any time outside of Howzer’s duties was spent with Aurelia in their home. They curled up together on the couch, reminiscing, dozing, chatting idly about everything and nothing. 

Both intentionally avoided certain topics, however. Howzer’s resolve to let up on the stress of figuring everything out and his relentless pursuit of control and safety had been severely shaken by the unexpected twists and turns, and Aurelia’s nagging feeling of being a burden refused to go away. All of that could wait, however, as long as they stayed snug and cozy in each other’s arms. 

“Your hair almost looks like it did when we first met,” she mused, running her fingers through it and feeling him relax even more.

“Yeah. You like it?”

“I don’t know… Are you going to get sucker-punched by a pirate and puke on my floor, or are you going to read me poetry in a park?”

“Ugh. Don’t mention that,” Howzer grimaced. 

“The pirate or the poetry?”

“Either!” he said with a smirk. Her best attempt at elbowing him was a pathetic shift of her arm. 

“Hey, the poetry was sweet! It made me realize you weren’t just a hot piece of–”

“Ssshhh,” he interrupted, touching the tip of his nose to her lips. “I was just trying to get laid.”

A laugh burst out of her, and she rested her forehead against his chin to minimize the wave of pain that it brought on. “And how did that work out for you?”

“I mean…” He shifted his hips against her, earning one last snort. 

“Oof, that reminds me…” Aurelia began, but Howzer saw his chance and took it.

“That it’s about that time?” He wiggled his pelvis again.

“Stoppp,” she smiled. “But really… I heard some… uh… noises… on our way to the depot. On the ship. And it was just me and Gregor and Cerra.”

“Look,” he said pertly. “Sometimes a guy’s gotta do what a guy–”

“No!” she interrupted. “It wasn’t just one person.” She wiggled her eyebrows and now it was she who arched her back to grind her butt against him. He gasped.

“You slept with Gregor?” Shocked dismay. Entirely theatrical.

“Yeah, he’s just… uh… Nevermind, I can’t even joke…”

“Maybe you kept your memory but it looks like your sense of humor got knocked loose…”

“Howzer,” she giggled, pulling her head back to look at him and wincing.

“It’s gonna hurt for a while, according to Big Nurse,” he said, turning immediately serious despite his use of the nickname they’d secretly implemented for the large and in charge woman who’d taken over the clinic when Aurelia had evaded the position after Lennox left . 

“I know, it’s fine,” she pushed, hurrying to continue. “Now stop talking. I think Gregor and Cerra are… you know…” 

“Having a little bam-bam in the ham?”

An ungodly guffaw burst from her lips. 

“He’s filling her out like an application? Shooting the meat rocket into the sausage wallet?”

“What!” she cackled. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Take your pants off and I’ll show you how it does.”

“Gods, Howzer,” she reveled, bursting with fondness. “When do you have time to think of all of these?”

“I was on Orn Free Taa’s security detail for a while, remember? Plenty of time to think, since I was either standing outside the senate or outside a restaurant virtually all day every day.”

“And this is what you’d think about?”

“I don’t have to explain my choices to you,” he smiled, kissing her forehead. 

“You’ve definitely made some questionable ones,” she murmured.

“Well you aren’t one of them.”

Her heart swelled in her chest and they fell silent for a while, connected and content. 

.

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