In Command (#1 Post-Order 66 Series)

In Command - Part 1

Sunlight filtered in through the thinning curtains, chasing the last traces of sleep from the captain's mind as he slowly opened his eyes. Lothal's lone sun twinkled through the weave in the curtains, casting dancing shadows across the room. Rex rose, rubbing sleep from his eyes and flexing his joints to alleviate the previous night's stiffness. Hearing the sound of ceramic tinkling in the kitchen outside of the bedroom alerted him that his companion was awake, and judging by the sharp smell, in the middle of making another offensively strong batch of caf.

Rex pulled a loose fitting light blue tunic over his shoulders. While the civilian garment should have been far more comfortable than his blacks and armor, it left him feeling constantly exposed and not like himself. He yanked on the grey trousers that he favored, buckling his utility belt across his hips and slipping the beat-up DL-44 into his hip holster. The weight of it still felt off in his hand, but with practice, he had gotten more used to it. He had never been a poor shot, but the unfamiliarity of the weapon concerned him, and he felt that he couldn't allow for even the most minor slip-up at this point. Not now that he was in the most precarious position he'd ever been in. The war had been nothing compared to the danger that he now faced, embedded deep in enemy territory, and he hoped that the information that they were planning to glean would prove to be worth the risk in the end.

He paused at the door and listened to the silence on the other side. Closing his eyes, he could still smell the caf, and then he heard a sigh barely perceptible through the door. He took a deep breath and pushed through the door for another day.

She had her back to him, staring out the kitchen window, a steaming mug of caf in her hand. The steam rose over her bare shoulders, her dark blue sleeveless tunic hung down her back, slightly too large for her, but cinched at her waist with a chord. He could see her blinking data pad tucked into its slot at her thigh. Her dark brown hair was piled on top of her head in a mess that more resembled a loth cat nest than a preferred hairstyle. He'd never commented on it before, but he felt it pretty perfectly encompassed the technical specialist and her way of doing things: a fly-by-the-seat of your pants mess that still somehow got the job done.

He noted the second mug that was already sitting out for him and the sugar bowl that she had undoubtedly used to make her drink more palatable. He never understood why she made it so strong only to add so many different things to it in order to be able to drink it. Rex had always preferred his caf black, but could just barely tolerate the way she made it most days.

She turned, her electric blue eyes widening slightly in surprise as she snorted into her mug, slopping some of the liquid down her front. "KARK! Good morning. You startled me, Re – sorry." She cut herself off before she finished his name.

"How many times do I need to tell you to not use our real names here? You're going to slip up and get us both killed," he grumbled. "You've GOT to get used to saying it, and I have to get used to responding. We have to start now before we have to go out around people."

She dipped her head in apology, a slight twinkle in her eye. "I thought you hated the name 'Lon'."

"I do, but I understand what's necessary for us to stay alive, Valla." He emphasized her false name, dragging the syllables out, his eyebrows furrowed in a borderline scowl.

She rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug again. "Fine, fine, Lon," she snarked back, mocking his emphasis. She slid the mug across the counter towards him.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he caught the mug just before it slipped off the edge of the counter, reaching for the caf press and pouring some of the nearly black liquid into the mug. "You're careless," he stated flatly.