What happened to Fennec and the strategy officer?? Not that I’m 100% on board with the queen
Hoth is horrible.
Horrible, terrible, awful, the worst.
You pull your winter jacket tighter around yourself and shift. You’ve got so many damn layers on you feel like a momma shaak rolling around on the ground of the newly claimed Grand Army of the Republic communications base.
Talon Squadron, spearheading the recon/foundation mission, is sprawled around you. The Commander and the General are in the far corner, heads leaned together as the both get some shut eye on the ammo crates. Somewhere in the small room, Hauler is snoring. You can hear Lucky talking in his sleep.
You give a ragged sigh and roll over. The thin thermal blanket beneath you is nothing. The other officers look just as miserable. Shae’la and Goji are curled into a tight ball together across the room.
Things hadn’t gone as planned.
With a howling blizzard raging above ground, only so much work was done before Nyx called a break -- it was time for shut eye, for now, until the storm let up and they could get more loads from the LAAT/i’s in.
Fennec makes a face.
“Cold?” he whispers.
You jump.
You hadn’t realized he was awake. His helmet gave no indication. You place your hand to your chest and nod, swallowing down the shock. “Freezing. I can’t feel my toes.”
He moves, then, digging into the pack on his hip, and tosses you four hand-warmers. Fennec bends, taps the composite of his boots and gestures to your thick winter soles.
“Put ‘em in there,” he says, “And wiggle. It’ll help.”
“Thanks, Fen,” you sigh, feeling the warmth from the packs kick up through your mittens immediately; you’re fast to unlace and shove the little packs into your boots. He’s right. It helps immediately.
“’Course.”
He’d be lying if he didn’t wanna offer to warm you up another way.
... No -- not like that. Like, in his arms kind of “warm you up”. Pervert.
Hoth sucks.