Thirty


The Expansion Region

Umbara

46.5 hours after deployment.

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Waxer strode with purpose, dodging other men, there was no mistaking his anger.

"Stupid di'kut," he was heard to mutter as he pulled the awning across and entered the field medical ward, scanning the rows of wounded, looking for one in particular.

And there he was.

Clad only in the top half of his body suit, Boil was sitting upright and giving the on duty medic a hard time.

Waxer couldn't help but smile.

This was Boil at his best.

And worst.

"So it's true?" he said as he quickly leaned forward and brushed his lips over Boil's forehead.

"Yeah, can you believe it?"

"What I can't believe is that you're on report for an unprovoked attack on the AT-AP driver!"

"He asked for it! Backing up that shabuir of a thing on the top of me!"

"Dragged him down on one leg I hear?"

"Yeah, that's him over there," Boil said and cocked his head to the left. Waxer followed his line of sight and was initially horrified to see a trooper with his face covered in bandages and bacta patches.

"Well, if my campaigns over due to his stupidity, so is his."

He then laughed and Waxer joined him in his mirth. He could never stay angry at him for very long. Boil may have been hot headed, but he was fiercely protective of his unit and took his role in the war seriously.

And then there was their special bond, the one that had seen them through the ups and downs over the past two years, together.

Always together.

For all intents and purposes Boil looked fine but when Waxer's eyes wandered down his right leg, he noticed it was hidden under a plethora of bacta and ice.

"Completely blown. All four ligaments. They'll reconstruct it back on Coruscant."

"Does it hurt?"

"Only if I move."

Boil looked around. The makeshift medical centre was full to the brim with men injured during their most bitter battle to date. All would be evac'd as soon as planets surface was under full Republic control.

When that was going to be was anyone's guess.

Kenobi and Commander Cody were being hauled over the coals by the brass over their tardiness in not capturing the Umbaran capitol sooner. But what they hadn't expected was an army of humanoids with some of the most advanced weaponry they had ever seen.

Waxer had just come from a debriefing and felt optimistic for the first time since hitting dirt. There were still pockets of Umbaran holdouts though, causing more headaches for their Republic counterparts.

They had been more than worthy opponents for the 212th.

And the 501st apparently.

Boil stopped feeling sorry for himself for a moment to take in his lover's full appearance.

"You're heading back out?"

It was obvious.

Waxer was in full kit; he hadn't even bothered remove his rifle from over his shoulder.

"Yep, just got new intel. Krell has reported a group of rouge Umbarans wearing stolen 501st armour. Opportunistic shabuirs. I am taking a platoon out in 5. I have to say, I'm kinda looking forward to showing these cerulean brothers how it's done in the 212th. Think I will even mark them on my armour in 501st blue, just to remind them how good our aim is."

"Copy that."

Waxer blew out a long breath and leaned forward, planting a searing kiss on Boils mouth, hovering just a moment longer he whispered, "don't cause any more trouble."

"Stop worrying will ya?"

"I'll stop by when we get back."

Boil grabbed his hand and held it tight, "for Numa."

"Always."

It was their personal message to each other.

Boil reluctantly let go and watched as Waxer silently set his chrono. He then stood to leave the tent, giving a quick salute to the on duty medic, "keep an eye on this one."

"Will do lieutenant."

As he went to leave he turned and flashed Boil the most enormous of smiles.

Boil didn't know it then, but it would be the last time he would see his best friend.

And chosen life partner.

It would be an image he would call on over and again, closing his eyes and reliving that perfect moment, never allowing Waxer's smile to diminish or wane.

Boil flung his head back onto the pillow after taking a look at the poor bastard he brutalised in the bed down the way.

If it weren't for him, he would be marching out there too, killing more of the filthy shadow people who had the audacity to…

Wait a sec!

Boil's eyes opened in an instant.

Umbarans wearing Republic uniforms? That's impossible!

Boil sat bolt upright and swung his legs off the cot.

"Argh!" His right knee had other plans.

"Wait," he yelled at the top of his voice, alarming the med team in the tent and waking some of the other patients, "wait, Waxer! Wait!"

"Are you in pain?" The medic came rushing over to help place him back down on the bed.

"Get off me!" he screamed before continuing, "they're too tall! The Umbarans are too tall for our armour! WAXER!"

"Get me a sedative over here a-sap."

"What? NO!"

Boil had to act and fast, with all the energy he could muster he sent the medic flying across the room.

"I need help over here," came the reply from the floor and a team of men came as if from nowhere to hold Boil down while a hypo was unceremoniously jabbed in his neck.

Boil couldn't move; no one was listening to him as he continued to yell obscenities at the medical staff.

But it was too late.

The jibberish he was talking had been perceived as pain or delayed shock. He never got the chance to explain himself or get a communiqué out to Waxer.

"No,' Boil mumbled as the pharma's began to take effect.

"They're too tall," he said as his eyes closed, "they're just too …"

.

Boil dressed as if for any other shift. He thought about taking a few things he knew would fit down into his armour; a toy that was once Numa's, Waxer's handkerchief and a green crystal they had found together on the surface of Ischbar.

All items that were individually worthless but collectively held so many memories they had become priceless to the pair.

But they were no longer a pair.

He was alone and about to leave Coruscant and the army forever.

It didn't matter to him whether they managed to escape or not.

This was it, either way he wasn't coming back.

He looked at the array of items and closed the locker. It was time to move on, without Waxer and without the farce the Empire had become.

"Heads up." Chopper knocked twice on the architrave and disappeared.

It was time for him to as well.

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