LIVE TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY

Written Works

MASTERLIST HERE

Bad Batch Moments That Live Rent-Free in my Head: A Series.

MASTERLIST HERE

Uncatastrophizing King: ✔️

Tech Refuses to Let a Big Deal, be a Big Deal.

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Honourable Mention

Edits

(I take dark-ass screenshots and balance the light/colours until they look unedited and/or are more aesthetically pleasing)

Tech: ♾

Tech Masterlist Here

Crosshair: ♾

Crosshair Masterlist Here

Hunter: ♾

Hunter Masterlist Here

Wrecker: ♾️

Wrecker Masterlist Here

Echo: ♾️

Echo Masterlist Here

501st + Cody: ♾️

501st + Commander Cody Masterlist Here 👨‍👨‍👦‍👦

Commander Fox: ✔️

Commander Fox Masterlist Here 🦊

Captain Howzer: ✔️

Captain Howzer Masterlist Here 🩵

PREV | NEXT | FOREWORD | MASTER | AO3

Half expecting herself to have gone grey in the century it took them to reach the glorified hallway leading to the speeder lot, she cast a quick glance at her reflection in the tinted glass of a passing door. Though still sticking up in several places from the long-forgotten chaos of her morning, she was relieved to see that her locks remained the deep ebony hue of which she’d always known. Making her exit from the oppression of those tangled halls and duplicate faces, June immediately shoved her still clammy hand to the depths of her bag. Sighing heavily from her nose, she dug around until the rigid edges of her speeder keys found the tips of her fingers.

“Thank you for the company,” Howzer gushed as he followed in her wake, boots crunching noisily atop the gravel with each heavy step. “And for buying the caf. Rex said he’d save me one but I guarantee I’ll get stuck with a pointless cup of decaf.”

She offered him only a fleeting glare and a tight-lipped, unforgiving smile. Even the stones below their shoes could tell the Captain was probing for a laugh… a gentle titter… anything to absolve the tension that had failed to remain behind in the halls of that unwelcoming base, but granting him a polite “you’re welcome,” or “my pleasure,” felt simply too mendacious.

‘It might have been a pleasure had I not just been led like a prized racing fathier through a crowd of rich gamblers,’ she fumed silently, redirecting her gaze back to the ignition of her bike as those beguiling brown eyes wordlessly beseeched for whatever degree of normalcy they’d once established. ‘Might have enjoyed my afternoon off… Now all I want to do is go home and scrub my skin raw.’

Turning her back on his voiceless plea, June deftly unlocked the under-seat compartment and tossed her bag into its depths with a thunk. Once it was securely latched closed again, she wasted no time throwing a leg over the seat and bringing that engine to life, actions fueled by a palpable eagerness to be rid of this entire place for at least a few days. Though her lips parted to offer Howzer some pitiful farewell as she revved that motor, those measly words were halted atop her tongue at first sight of Howzer’s own sudden display of discomfort. Jovial pleasantries lost with the sun as a large cloud bathed their position in shadow, his large calloused hand rose awkwardly to stroke the back of his neck, brows knitted tightly atop eyes framed by an emotion she’d yet to see embedded into those always handsome features.

“Look June,” he murmured, fidgeting fingers finding place on his hips as the toe of his boot trailed uselessly amidst the crushed pebbles below. He paused only to momentarily seek her gaze as he relentlessly did, eyes rapidly surveying her expression while his jaw flexed atop words not yet spoken.

When her silence persisted, he sighed. “Maybe it’s just in my head… but it seems like something is bugging y—?”

“I have to get going,” she curtly interrupted, fearful that if she lingered to acknowledge his continued probes, the sea of acerbic thoughts she’d been struggling to repress for some minutes might just erupt like a volcano and douse him, armour and all, in an irrevocable blanket of venom.

“Alright,” Howzer answered. “But… just so you know. Mal has been a full blown di’kut his entire life. Don’t let anything he said get to you, and—”

“And the cadets in my class just don’t know how to behave off Kamino?” The bite neath her tone stole the remainder of the appeal from his tongue, brown eyes widening as the severity of her displeasure encompassed him like the shadow that had overtaken that speeder lot. “Barracks too crowded for what you had in mind? Or did you pay your buddy to say that so you could parade me past every soldier in the hangar instead?”

“Barracks—?”

Eyes unfocussing under tightly knitted brows, June watched his face contort as he fought to comprehend the accusations now-spilling unbridled past her lips. “And just so you’re aware,” she continued in earnest, hands beginning to tremble atop those cool durasteel handlebars, “I don’t sell day passes to my bed. There are no visiting hours, you horned up Gamorrean.”

The confusion neath his expression intensified in the wake of that rash, biting insult, and unwilling to spend another second in the presence of the man that had charmed and tricked her into wasting her afternoon of precipitous freedom, she revved the engine again and moved to pull her feet from the ground.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up,” Howzer protested, reaching forward and quickly draping a large hand atop her own, the motion successful in their intent of halting her in her tracks.

June glared down at those gloved fingers, furiously debating if she harboured the gumption to simply rip her hand from under his.

“Go-ahead and call me whatever name you’d like, but only if you’re going to be frank about why you’re upset.” His assertive grip round her fingers tightened as the ghost of a chuckle hovered neath his words; tone stern, yet, obviously lacking both the contempt she provoked, having so caustically forgone the use of his name. “Whatever it was that Mal said to you, I’m sure it was out of line. He’s young, dumb, has an ego the size of a bantha that he can’t help but show off—”

“B—”

“—and it’s my fault for not picking up on the fact that he was pestering you sooner than I did. Whatever he said to you, I’ll give him shit for it, but that one’s on me. Now, you can call them names too, if you really think you need to, but that doesn’t change the uncomfortable truth that the cadets in your class haven’t learned to respect you yet—”

”Well they sh—”

“Yes they should, and like I told you, they will. But we had this conversation at Hutchie’s and it seemed to make sense to you there. I’ll admit I don't know you that well yet, but I kinda feel like I’m missing something?”

Despite the bewilderment still ravaging his handsome features, and the venom neath the words that had spilled so freely off her tongue, his voice remained level and calm. Many years spent conditioning his psyche to both master and maintain stolidity in the most harrowing of situations had clearly proven effective, as the unprecedented confrontation had him not backing away with a roll of the eyes to match her own, but… to June’s dismay, quite the opposite. He leaned forwards, intensifying the swaddle of his right hand atop hers, while his left found purchase on the back of her seat, effectively caging her in on one side.

Though any other act of a similar motion would have seen her wholly rebuke the invasion into her personal space, she simply couldn’t dismiss the fact that having those twinkling eyes hardly a breath from her own failed to bring forth the characteristic wave of caution and disgust. Having Mal’s dark eyes drink in her appearance had stimulated a putrid, frothing hatred in her gut. Howzer’s steady gaze, silently lobbying for the complete exposure of her truth, and the stillness he invited in spite of the assertive grip round her fingers, seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Throw whatever insults you want at me,” the captain continued, “but just tell me what I’ve said or done to royally kriff this up because it’s going to eat me alive for longer than I’d like to admit.”

June suppressed a snort, and still wholly lacking the gumption to tug her right hand out from under his, pulled her left from its white-knuckle grip on the handle bars and began to fidget with a small pull in the red fabric on her thigh.

She hesitated… now that the torrent of caustic and unbridled anger had left her lips, uttering the truth uncloaked from its armour of acerbity felt downright intimidating… exposing. Calling him names was simple, rolling her eyes and watching his face contort atop the snark she so casually spat at him felt near-cathartic. Now? She was left with only the remnants of that once raging ire, now naught but glowing embers smoking softly in the depths of her gut as the feeling of his hand atop hers continued to stomp out the fury that once promised to burn their entire alliance to the ground.

Still June said nothing, fingers fiddling uselessly with the stray thread atop her thigh; the relentless crinkling of massive purple tarps fluttering with every subtle gust abating the stuffy silence she knew it was her imminent duty to fill.

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made when we left Hutchies,” she forced her tongue to form, though they resisted every motion as if suddenly paralysed. “It was gross and degrading… and made me regret spending any time with you.”

“What comment?” Howzer probed instantly. “Please, June.”

A small sigh escaped her nose, the insistence neath his words accompanying the reality that there was simply no escaping this conversation or the explanation she rightfully owed for the about-turn in her behaviour. “It was so casual,” she muttered, tongue darting out to quickly wet her dry lips. “We were talking about how I’d slept in. I said my bed was amazing, you said that it sounded like a place you want to be. And the second we got back on base, you comm’d your friend and asked him about barracks… told him you had company, like I'm some two credit score you can just take to coffee then chauffeur right to your bed.”

“Oh kriff,” he lamented, chin sagging towards his chest amidst an utter defeat until that pristinely cropped hairline wrapping the back of his neck was perfectly visible.

“Look, I’m not sure what you’re after,” June continued lowly in the void of a response, lifting her hand from her leg only to further shirk offering him her undivided attention by scrutinizing her cuticles. “But it’s starting to seem like you have the wrong girl.”

“No,” Howzer blurted, head snapping upward so quickly amidst their stillness, it near-startled her. “Nothing! I’m— I’m not after anything, promise. ‘Company’ seemed like the best word because… well I don’t really know what we’re… you know? And I thought the hangar would be empty if everyone was gearing down in barracks. I didn’t expect so many crews to land today. And—” He paused to find and affix her gaze again, amber eyes refusing to let her blue depart now that he’d awarded him the attention she had so vehemently denied him since returning to base. “The bed comment sounds bad, I’ll admit it. But I honestly meant nothing by it. Nothing. I’m not after— I don’t want— I just think you’re cool and getting to see you has been… um, well…”

It seemed as if June’s admission had dismantled at least a portion of that unflappability, his features robbed of the eternally composed and collected expression it seemed always to present. It was as if they’d suddenly landed themselves back in 18-S, that weather-worn and war-torn Captain revoking his practiced and embedded stoicism in the name of gnawing discomfort.

“Well…” she started atop another small sigh. “I don’t really know what else to say other than: your version of giving Mal shit better be a firm right hook to the jaw and a year of scrubbing toilets.”

Something resembling an unsure smirk began to peel across his lips, as if not entirely convinced June wouldn’t swing in his direction should he dare laugh at something she hadn’t intended to be funny, but the appearance of that lopsided smile had doused whatever remained of those glowing embers, and she offered an apologetic snort of her own as the clouds overhead parted to bathe them in that familiar resplendent sun.

“I can make that happen,” Howzer assured behind smiling lips, retracting his hands and standing up straight. “And… I know you said you have to go but can w—?”

A sudden, shrill intonation stole her attention, the persistent, bright flash of blue emanating from Howzer’s wrist comm, instantly capturing her gaze and her focus, and as if it were suddenly resuming its role as a beacon of the reality beyond the confines of this dusty gravel lot, it’s unprecedented emergence had June painfully aware that neither of them had all day to loiter beside those monstrous purple tarps and make amends; Howzer was clearly expected elsewhere, yet he continued using his valuable time to heed June’s unexpected conniption and attempt to mend what he could of their fractured companionship.

But that intermittent flash and melody of sharp beeps did not garner the Captain’s attention as they had her own, gloved hand reaching across his body and silencing the chirp with the press of a button, offering it nearly the same regard as the small pebble neath his boot.

“Any chance I can make this whole thing up to you?” he asked her with a nibble of the bottom lip, right eye squinting against the onslaught of that glorious sunshine.

Quickly realizing he meant not to address the summon, a prickly new emotion began to simmer neath June’s skin. “It’s fine,” she answered, eyes darting to and fro between his flashing comm link and the unphased glint behind his eyes. “You don’t need to. Are you going to answ—?”

“It’s not fine, and I want to,” he argued instantly. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

Chirp.

Again, she watched him lazily reach to silence the incessant subpoena, and the stewing sense of urgency that only spending years on-call at a trauma centre could imbue nearly overcame her.

“Are you not going to answer that—?” June probed with a nod towards the flashing on his wrist, but he simply compressed his lips into an uncaring frown of sorts and shook his head. “Um… I’m done work around sundown,” she continued, casting him something near a disapproving look.

“Perfect,” Howzer answered. “Grab your holopad for me, just for a sec.”

Chirp.

Shooting him yet another stern “you should answer that summon,” look, June reached into her side pocket of her pants and retrieved her holopad. She watched through narrowed eyes as he affixed his attention on the screen of her device, gloved fingers tapping remarkably fast as they entered data of some sort into the memory bank for her to reference later. “I think someone is trying to find you?” she mumbled as his commlink chirped for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Probably,” he agreed atop a small chortle.

June raised an eyebrow at him, sitting back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest, unable to fathom the complete void of concern he held for whoever was trying to so urgently reach him. “What if it's important?” she urged, mind filled with the echoes of a million holocalls that had woken her in the middle of the night, demanding she come to work for a code the night staff had not been able to handle on their own.

“Can’t be more important than this,” Howzer replied, spinning her holo ceremoniously atop his palm and handing it back to her, that oh-so-familiar smile now back atop his lips. “Meet me at those coordinates tomorrow night at 2300. You know military time, right?”

“2300?!” June quickly gasped. “What in maker’s-name are we doing out so late?”

But Howzer answered with little more than a shrug, a mischievous smirk, and a very cryptic, “It’s a surprise…”

Wholly unsure what to make of this unusual plan, June pursed her lips and cast him one last searching look, hoping something lurking in his body language might divulge more information than just a set of coordinates and the promise of a late night rendez-vous, but when he simply folded his arms across his armoured chest, there was nothing to do other than to concede whatever he had up his sleeve would remain there until 11:00 o’clock tomorrow night.

“Fine,” she finally agreed, smirking in spite of herself and taking her holopad back. “Now answer your comm before I have a panic attack on your behalf.”

Head tossing back atop a laugh she hadn’t heard in some time, Howzer nodded and brought his flashing wrist to chin level, holding down the blue button until the strobing ceased and turned green.

“Can’t a guy have a piss in peace?” he snarked into the small speaker.

“Longest kriffing piss I’ve ever heard of,” came a disgruntled voice from his wrist. “We are, once again, waiting on you so get your ass back here.”

“I better go,” Howzer uttered atop a sigh, gesturing with a nod to the door behind them.

PREV | NEXT | FOREWORD | MASTER | AO3

PREV | NEXT | FOREWORD | MASTER | AO3

A blend of both the surging desire to not get lost, and the resentment now simmering in the depths of her gut, kept June a full pace behind that teal-painted Captain as he steered them back through the glass doors and down those vapid corridors. Yet, despite that enduring urge to stomp her feet with every step, she trod delicately as she followed him over thresholds of doors she’d never previously noticed, and down flights of stairs she would have never otherwise found; the threat of scalding hot caf cascading down her body amidst one irritable step demanding that she maintain some fraction of composure in spite of the hankering to simply turn on her heel and depart that unwelcome space.

She offered hardly more than curt, one word answers to his continued probes at conversation, and the way he ceaselessly sought her gaze by turning that annoyingly handsome face around to find her eyes every triad-or-so of steps wholly corroborated she was doing a great job at concealing the disdain neath her skin as they journeyed further into the belly of the base.

At the tail end of yet another durasteel staircase, the pair and their teetering cargo were forced into an alarmingly abrupt halt, Howzer briskly (and somewhat awkwardly) shifting what he could of his laden hands to offer some semblance of a salute as a pair of strangers emerged over the threshold just ahead.

“At ease, Captain,” one instructed instantly, voice entirely void of the Clone accent June had grown accustomed to hearing ‘round every corner, and it was this unheralded anecdote that pulled her attention from the floor.

Jedi. A pair of Jedi

Try as she might not to let her widening eyes betray her wonder as they passed, not even affixing her gaze to her shoes could entirely conceal the way her jaw slackened and fell open to gawk in near-childlike amazement as that enigmatic duo casually resumed their murmured conversation and began to ascend the stairs. And though those infamously prosaic robes had June instantly certain of their roles as both wielders of the force and peacekeepers of the galaxy, anything beyond the arcane nature of their power remained largely unfamiliar to her.

The taller of the pair had been the one to acknowledge Howzer’s knee-jerk address, and there could be no mistaking the deep and inherent stoicism etched into those foreign, dark features, brow contracted neath a sense of severity that had June’s presence alone, messy hair and sunburn included, feeling wildly improper.

The second linen-draped wizard was unlike any humanoid species June had ever laid eyes upon, the extravagance of his long pointed ears and the vibrant verdancy of his skin seemed locked in a silent battle for the apex position of what made him so inexplicably enamoring. Perhaps it was the wrinkles embedded around that pair of bright eyes, or the subtle yet knowing smirk atop thin, wizened lips. Or perhaps it was the muffled taps of a walking stick accompanying every mildly afflicted step, that petite frame betrayed by the only thing capable of plaguing a being so intelligent— so commanding… age.

“Comin’?”

The return of Howzer’s voice broke her stupor, eyes glazed whilst peering sightlessly at the spot that recondite pair had vanished, but she offered him only a nod before turning to follow him toward the door steps ahead.

Larger than any June had seen amongst her limited travels around the base, that giant, corrugated durasteel entry was as foreboding as it was oversized, and the nearer they reached that barricade, the more her skin prickled neath a timidity she couldn’t entirely connect to the brief encounter with those Jedi. Yes, they’d enamoured her instantly, but something lay just beyond that doorway that had the fine hairs atop her arms standing erect, and as they trod ever nearer… Howzer shifting to scan his wrist below an infrared sensor on the wall… a near-paralyzing sound met her ears.

Chatter. Laughter. Deep chested, thunderous cries of reunion and delight. Idling engines… unidentifiable yet deafening booms… hundreds, maybe a thousand voices yattering atop each other until one was simply indiscernible from the next amidst that radiating cacophony.

Something to the tune of, “Oh Kriff,” wafted past her as the door slid open to permit their entry, though whatever expletive Howzer had muttered atop his own surging shock was instantly devoured by the sheer din welcoming their emergence. For the second time in as many minutes, June’s jaw fell open. They’d found the hangar, all right… as had all eleven other shoreside battalions.

Countless plastoid-clad bodies moved in scattered groups of organized chaos, bustling around the confines of the most immense room she’d ever set foot in. The same effulgent sunshine that had blanketed their journey to Hutchie’s and back some minutes ago poured mercilessly in both ends of that truly colossal enclosure; the opposing pair of unfathomably large hangar doors rolled upward and parked inches from the ceiling to unbridle every beam of that resplendent, fall sunshine. Though despite its unquestionable power, that flood of radiance failed to reach the distant inches of that space, much of the perimeter left in shadow.

June blinked lamely from her position on the outskirts of anarchy, eyes now drawn to the center of the room where a battalion of troopers in kits of white and green stood rigidly in lines, shoulders back, arms straight, chests high, feet moving only when instructed by the imposing soldier pacing menacingly in front of them. But only the remnants of those sonorous parade calls met her ears through the muddled mixture of movement and machinery. Directly across that gargantuan space, half a dozen gunships were parked along the wall, cockpits empty and doors thrown agape whilst a handful of half-armoured men unloaded crates from their depths in near-perpetuity. Furthest on the left, a now cargo-free gunship idled in place, engine sputtering rhythmically whilst the trooper veiled by the glare atop the windshield cocked his neck and shouted requests to his companion— a soldier naked from the waist up, forearms and chest gleaming neath a sublimely thick layer of grease and sweat while he paced round the nose of the vehicle, twirling a spanner in hand.

“Maker,” escaped her lips in little more than a whisper as her eyes watered atop the hundreds of different coloured troopers meandering before them, the ire and contempt once surging in her gut somehow abated by the exposure of that stunning crowd.

Lost in the stupor of enormity, it wasn’t until a flash of teal crossed her unfocussed eyes did she realize Howzer had pulled ahead by a few paces, that immaculately crisp hairline shifting to offer a smatter of loitering troopers in purple and white a nod as he passed their splayed position around a collection of upturned crates. Again eager to not lose her guide through this seemingly infinite labyrinth of identical faces, magicians, and machinery, June hurried to follow in the Captain’s wake.

Though hardly a dozen steps into the throng passed underfoot before it met her ears, and whether the mental state of which she’d battled whilst entering that rabble had attuned her senses for such ribald whispers or not, only seconds ticked away before her skin burned amid a submergence into unwanted attention and the characteristic need to abscond.

“Oy vey,” one of the soldiers Howzer so-casually acknowledged murmured as she passed, and though the urge pluck one of those scalding cafs from its holder and toss the entire emerald cup in his face surged anew, June upheld her taciturnity and ignored him.

“Stars, Howzer. Where did you find her?!”

“…Kriff, I love chicks with glasses…”

“Maker have mercy…”

“Meh… I like ‘em better blonde. Brunette’s always seem to have too much attitude.”

“I know. That’s the turn on…”

“Maker, now there’s something to look at…”

Had the room suddenly quieted? To what distant void had that deafening din of chugging engines and mindless chatter vanished? To what other dimension had that oppressive and egregious noise suddenly jumped? Despite physically seeing those thousand or so bodies continue to amble around her, the very air in that gargantuan room suddenly felt grotesquely still, and though rage had erupted a rhythmic thundering of blood in her ears, nothing… nothing… proved loud enough to drown out those salacious comments… those stomach churning remarks that had June simply wishing her very existence could vaporize on demand.

“Eyyyyy, there’s the Cap! I found him!”

“You didn’t find him, Jigs. He walked into your presence…”

“Same shit.”

“Literally not at all…”

June lifted her gaze only high enough to watch her companions' large boots falter in their subsequent steps, toe turning outward hardly an inch to address the summon he obviously recognized.

“Mornin’ Jigs,” Howzer answered casually, cadence halting entirely and stopping June in her tracks. “Mornin’ Bruiser.”

“Better steer clear of the south wing, sir,” the first, more gruff voice advised. “41st just landed, and the hush-in-the-halls is: they’re hunkered down for the next few rotations. Ponds is gonna be up yer ass looking for all those outstanding brief reports.”

“Karkin’ stars…” Howzer grumbled, head tipping back amid an exasperated roll of those amber eyes. “I guess I’ll just keep usin’ the regular excuse until it stops working. Ponds is a good guy. I’d be shocked if he…”

The rest of the Captain’s sentence fell upon sunburnt ears now attuned to a series of unidentified steps approaching from behind, the solid heels of those plastoid boots dragging nonchalantly yet noisily on the stone floor only inches behind her.

“And who do have we here?”

June turned to peer over her right shoulder, caf trays creaking slightly as her wrists continued to revolt against the weight of their cargo, and though her brow raised inquisitively at the unannounced newcomer, the rapid eradication of personal space between them instantly removed all doubt as to who he was addressing.

She swallowed and flicked her gaze upward, eyes narrowing as they fell upon the familiar features of a soldier fresh into deployment; that expression wholly unplagued by the imminent gnaw of chronic tactical cognizance; cheeks still round with the imbued youth and innocence of which all humans are born; endless rotations in the elements yet to strip that teal kit of its vibrance. A “shiny”, she’d heard this type of soldier referred to as. A shiny… and a gallish one at that.

“What?” she near-grunted back at him, stomach sinking like a rock in a well as she watched his brown eyes dance up and down her figure.

“I’d love to think you’re our new medic, but…” he started, pausing only to permit the nauseating smirk atop his lips to spread even further toward his dark, glimmering eyes, “...the Maker doesn’t like me that much.”

June snorted openly and held his gaze, a near-pitying smirk playing across her own lips as the sheer stupidity of his assumption laid bare just how green he truly was. ‘Do I look like a medic to you?’ she nearly asked, though withheld the sentiment, as hearing any further opinions about her appearance from this pathetic excuse of a soldier might send her over the edge.

“I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing…” she settled on offering, narrowed eyes boring into him with an intensity fueled by the rage erupting in her gut. “Someone has to put your eyes back in your embarrassingly empty head. Might as well be one of the leading surgeons at GRMH.”

A repressed chorus of guffaws and snickers echoed just beyond her awareness. Too attuned into watching that repugnant smirk fall from the corners of those lips, June kept her chin high and her narrowed eyes locked upon the young, pompous punk. To her dismay, his smile only broadened, thick brows lifting in something near-surprise, as if the notion of achieving the mentioned accomplishment was nothing short of appalling for someone like her.

A patronizing, low whistle pushed past his lips as he continued to circle her, and though the tiny hairs atop her arms stood erect in warning, she held her ground as firmly as she held those leaking, nearly-forgotten trays of caf, refusing to offer him the satisfaction of either retreat or submission.

“Surgeon, eh?” he muttered, potent wafts of peppermint radiating from that smirking cavern and drifting relentlessly into her nose as a disgustingly thick wad of green chewing gum rolled about his molars. “Doctor. Blue Eyes, MD. I’m surprised Howzer would step within six feet of you, considering how scared he is of injections. But me—?” (June felt her nostrils flare beyond control as he stopped in front of her, peering down that infuriatingly familiar, straight nose with an unnervingly steady gaze), “—Well, you can do whatever you want to me. I’m not scared of anything.”

Seemingly plucked from his own conversation by the mention of his name, Howzer’s profile appeared over the shoulder of her assailant, the expression of mild-curiosity shifting near-instantly as his eyes landed upon June and the ire that had flushed her face so intensely, her sunburnt back now paled in comparison.

“What’s going on, Mal?” the Captain interposed atop an uncharacteristic sternness as he turned to join the exchange, brows knitting above rapidly darkening eyes, gaze darting to and fro between June’s reddened yet unmoving features and his teal-painted fellow. Whether he picked up on the discomfort of their close proximity, or if he was simply unwilling to wait any longer for an answer, Howzer quickly clashed his helmet against the young trooper's chest plate and pushed him backward two paces. “You hear me?” the Captain gruffed.

“Nothing’s going on,” was the only response that brazen trooper granted his Captain’s requests, narrow shoulders offering a little more than a casual shrug before placing his gloved hands on his hips. “Just saying hi to your friend, here.”

June watched the Captain shift his narrowed gaze from the instigating soldier, to the smattering of tertiary troopers loitering only steps behind, many hurrying to veil the varying degrees of guilt neath their own expressions, finally back to June whose chest still heaved atop a fury she hadn’t felt in many years.

“Clean this shit up,” Howzer commanded to the group at large, gesturing with his helmet-laden fist to the long-forgotten remnants of a card game that must have captured and held all their attention prior to the fiasco at hand. “Hell Squad, report to Lieutenant Love upstairs for PT. Everyone else, report to Spades in barracks until I say otherwise.”

“Great,” an unknown young trooper in teal on Mal’s left side grumbled as he stooped to snatch pieces of his discarded gear from the floor next to a series of crates-turned-couches. “Extra PT. Thanks, di’kut.”

“Whatever,” Mal grumbled back. Clearly more perturbed by having this sickly, flirtatious exchange stolen from him, he smacked his gum at June as he backed away, casting her a wink so unpalatable that her stomach near-heaved.

“Let’s go,” Howzer mumbled quietly some seconds later, amber eyes following the five members of Hell Squad as they proceeded to follow orders and eradicate any evidence of their card game. “You first.” He gestured with his coffee-laden hand toward a heavy steel door on the outskirts of the room directly ahead of them, and jumping at the opportunity to set the pace for her escape, June hurried toward it.

‘I told you,’ her mind repeated on an infuriating loop with every step forward, ears pounding with the rhythm of her own incensed heart. ‘Men are pigs. Even the likeable ones. You thought Howzer was different? How about now.’

Utterly silenced by the torque of that ashamed revelation in her gut, the gleaming shard of hope that had once championed for Howzer amidst all their previous encounters could no offer no rebuttal— there was simply nothing to say or do or think, other than to concede that this had been a huge mistake; Challa’s gift of an afternoon off, now nothing more than the culmination of reproach and regret. Though, as intensely as her hatred burned for that impudent, peppermint-breathing nerfherder, Mal was merely the catalyst for the reignition of her potent misanthrope; her present irascibility burned hottest inward, as there was no denying June had landed herself in this position by granting a smidgeon of her trust to the teal-painted Captain that had, somehow, fooled her into thinking he was intrinsically authentic. And though her eyes burned neath a shame words would not properly elucidate, any potential for tears was furiously blinked away as she finally reached that door, unwilling to grant any of those men the satisfaction of knowing their behaviour had quickly dismantled the hardened shell she’d once manufactured to be impenetrable.

Concealing what she could of the scowl distorting her face by bringing her empty caf cup to her lips, she paused in front of the oversized steel entry and waited for Howzer to scan his ID chip below the sensor that would finally permit their freedom.

A welcomed albeit stuffy silence encapsulated the dark corridor beyond; its blatant contradictory existence to the bustle of which they’d just left felt immediately smothering and… prickly. Robbed of any potential distraction by the vapidity unfolding as that heavy door clunked closed, the relentless, painful throbs in her arms of which she’d consistently rebuked could no longer be ignored; cold hands beginning to tremble neath both the weight of those stacked cafs and the vaporization of glee that had once distracted her from the discomfort.

Unsure of which undistinguished door guarded their destination, June stopped and waited for Howzer to overtake her, desperate to simply vanish into the air behind him until she could be free of that man, these cafs, this place, the ache in her elbow. But…

“Sorry I left you hanging there for a second,” he offered the moment he’d reached her side, turning and searching for her gaze. “Truthfully, I didn’t think the hangar would be that crowded, and once Jigs starts talking, it’s hard to get him to st— uh oh…” Remnants of her grievances must have remained apparent atop her blue eyes, as his own features quickly fell into something near-dejection; dark brows lifting first in undeniable surprise, then recognition, lips falling apart, twinkly eyes softening as they darted near-urgently across her poorly veiled expression. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” June grunted at him, raising that empty caf cup to her lips again and forcing her throat to bob neath an empty, meaningless swallow.

To her already frothing annoyance, Howzer didn’t appear convinced, jaw flexing atop clenched molars as unbridled hesitation stiffened his posture. “Are— are you sure?”

”Yup,” she bit back. “Though my left arm is half a second away from completely separating from my body, so if we could just hurry up and drop these off?”

The void of a response drew her gaze upward for little-more than a second, and though locking onto those amber eyes for even a moment failed to grant her the gleaming assurance and solace they once did, there was simply no ignoring the way that once-cherished, sharp jaw continued to flex as he surveyed her, lips thinning atop an unspoken rebuttal as he, instead, digested her obvious disdain in silence.

‘Stop looking at me,’ she wordlessly demanded of him as a frustrated snort escaped her nose, unable to stand the way his eyes mercilessly sought any semblance of the understanding she would never give him. The energy between them, whatever it once looked like, had shifted too drastically for June to consider offering him the answers of which he silently lobbied; the pendulum had swung too far, every butterfly that had once flit about her stomach had been incinerated by the volcanic eruption of anger and betrayal, and… somehow… the adventure to Hutchies felt like a distant memory. It seemed a lifetime ago that June had clung to Howzer’s elbow for comfort amidst the bustling crowd in that cozy caf house. He was just another man now.

“Sure, sorry,” he answered, the furrow between dark brows finally softening as his eyes finally left hers in favour of the trembling flimsi tray still cradled against her chest. “Let me grab Keeli.”

Her gaze fell a little too eagerly for it to have been a mere shift of focus, though in his own haste toward the second door on their left, Howzer thankfully missed the way she’d hurried to roll her eyes at that dark, cold floor.

June sighed heavily, heart still pounding atop the adrenaline that merely walking across the main hangar had demanded. Though her old white sneakers had accumulated their fair share of grime and distress amidst her many Coruscanti miles, they beamed as if new against those dusty, dark, stone floors. Relishing that moment of quiet isolation, she lifted her left leg amid an attempt to rub a glorified scuff from her toe with the back of her pants.

Beep.

“Keels! Gimme a hand here.”

But Howzer’s booming summons near-perfectly matched the tone he’d used to interrogate his young, gum chewing comrade, and it sent a shiver down her scorched back. And though the urge to abscond was becoming nearly overwhelming as the seconds turned to minutes, the gift of distraction from the oppression of her own mind wafted down that prosaic hallway by means of a blended cloud of laughter, casual chitchat, and the grating rumble of chair legs scraping atop the floor.

“I’m buying caf for like sixteen people.” Howzer’s previous admission whilst waiting in front of the register at Hutchies rang about her ears as a familiar, scruffy-looking face, adjacent to an equally scruffy-looking maroon pauldron, emerged atop that threshold.

‘Sixteen captains,’ June deduced, instantly recognizing the meticulously crafted and startlingly unique graphic buzzed into his cropped, dark hair. Mindlessly, her gaze darted toward that gaping entryway behind him as if the third missing puzzle piece, that blond haired, blue-pauldroned Captain she’d observed bantering with these two some time earlier, might intrinsically know his presence was missing and depart the sightless fray beyond to join them.

Amidst the shift of her gaze, Keeli’s dark eyes locked momentarily onto her unfocussed blue. The double take that had preceded the affixture of his attention was so insouciant… composed… as was the subtle way his left brow cocked atop the burgeoning confusion of her unexpected presence.

Breath held behind pursed lips, June’s fingers twiddled apprehensively against that flimsi cup still clutched in clammy hands, skin prickling as she watched bridled thoughts swirl behind that unknown gaze. But to her surprise, he offered nothing more than a respectful nod before shifting his attention to his summoner.

“This is the cadet you wrangled to go get your fancy caf?” he queried, lips miraculously void of the knowing smirk that so-clearly swaddled his every word.

“Don’t start,” Howzer answered curtly, wholly unable to disguise the plea behind his features as he shook his head lightly.

Only partially acceding his fellow captain’s request, Keeli quickly snatched the flimsi travel trays from Howzer’s hand and turned on his heel, the echo of his contemptuous yet obviously amused snort echoing around that dark corridor as his grimy and abraded pauldron retreated.

Once his counterpart had vanished, Howzer wasted no time closing the space between himself and June, olive features hardened behind what could only be described as a sense of suppressed bashfulness, as if mildly humiliated by his fellow Captain’s leering query. And though she preferred it to the hardened facade he’d mustered to shut down the peccant young trooper, not even the reemergence of that once-beguiling twinkle could assuage the toxic doubt propagating in the depths of her gut.

“Gimme two seconds and then I’ll walk you back.” He spoke in near-whispers, seemingly nervous that too loud of a sound might further derail this providential encounter.

“‘K,” June grunted in response, though he’d since turned and disappeared into the unseen chaos of that secluded briefing room.

“Those four are decaf!” she heard him shout seconds later. “The rest are regular, and you di’kuts better save me one. I’m going for a piss.”

“Oh come on, Howz. We’ve been waiting on you for an hour already!”

“Then five more minutes won't kill you, will it?”

June listened to their banter with a thumbnail clamped between her teeth. Though that near-unignorable spraff promised at least a mild distraction from the achy and flaccid feeling cresting down her now-freightless arm, Howzer was moving with more alacrity than expected, teal painted kit reappearing atop the threshold only moments later.

“Let’s roll,” he offered, suddenly spry atop an unprecedented sense of determination, tone confident and near-jesting as he reached her side and placed a guiding hand between her shoulder blades.

But that innocuous touch had June’s shoulders jerking upwards, skin prickling, eyes clamping closed for the span of a breath, scuffed sneakers taking her eagerly two steps to the right until his touch fell away.

“Oh kriff, sorry,” Howzer lamented, palms lifting in surrender in front of his armoured chest. “Forgot about the sunburn.”

“It’s fine,” she quickly fibbed, throat bobbing to swallow the alarm that had shot past her lips by means of an audible gasp, its intonation still echoing around that soundless corridor in the void of her deliberate omission… the void of her divulging that the true nature of her reaction had little to do with scorched skin.

Quickening her gait to maintain a pace and a half between them, June led herself back toward the now harrowingly familiar hangar door just ahead, hardly paying attention to, yet acutely aware of, Howzer’s tactfully wordless presence over her left shoulder. Whether the troopers meandering around that giant space had lost interest in her foreign appearance or simply moved on to more pertinent tasks, June neither knew or cared, but they permitted her a degree of peace as the pair traversed back across that bustling garage.