Buckets: A Star Wars Story

7. Master

We stayed in and nursed blaster burns for the next few days, and with the rumor of a rebel cell launching serious attacks against the Empire, most fieldwork had been called off. Of course, that gave us some team bonding time.

And by that, I mean Aurek pestering Ahuff incessantly as he does. "Hey, Ahuff." He leaned across the mess hall table with a glint in his eye.

"Lieutenant."

"You need a new name. You're one of the boys now."

Ahuff had rolled his eyes so hard at that I swore that they were going to fall back into his head. "I am not "one of the boys"." He even did the air quotes when he muttered that final phrase. It made Besh choke back a laugh.

"You call Dorn "Dorn" now. You're one of the boys. Suggestions, team?"

"I'm thinking... Grek!" Osk snorted out.

"Peth!" Besh snickered his suggestion out.

Aurek had a stupid grin on his face as he slowly said the aurebesh letter of choice, "Yirt." He could barely make the letter out before he lost it, leaning over the table and cackling like an utter madman.

Ahuff looked like he wanted to die as all eyes fell on me for my suggestion. I put down my glass of water and gave a cough, "I mean, as awesome as 'Yirt' is as a name," as Aurek let out a dejected whine when he realized I wasn't seconding his suggestion, I gave Ahuff a sympathetic nod, "I'm polling for Thesh, instead."

Ahuff looked ready to laugh from relief as he forced a nod, "Thesh is acceptable, I suppose."

"Is it because Dorn suggested it? It is, isn't it?"

"No. It's because Yirt sounds almost as stupid as you are, Trooper Aurek."

Aurek's hand went to his chest and he collapsed onto the table with a quiet scream. "He just kriffing shot me."

Despite how Ahuff rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his datapad, I could tell from the slight twitch of his mouth that he wasn't nearly as annoyed as he was acting like he was.

Aurek rebounded and shrugged, "Alright. Lieutenant Thesh," he put on the snobbiest accent he could muster as he said it, making Ahuff cock an eyebrow, "sounds pretty okay. We can work with that."

Ahuff, or should I say Thesh, gave his eyes a sardonic roll, "Oh. Wonderful."

The chatter was nice. I hadn't been with many groups in my time by that point, but Aurek always had a way of making you feel at home. Even if you didn't want to. Thesh was coming around. It may have taken a few more brushes with death and some explosions, but he'd get there eventually. I was about to refocus on my own maps laid out next to my meal tray before me when there was a voice behind me, "Look who it is! Bucket!"

Only one man ever called me Bucket, and I turned to see Sevens, in all of his better-looking-than-me-because-he's-a-pilot glory, striding over to me with one of those cocky grins on his face. Thesh's mouth twitched down into a frown as he watched the pilot saunter over and place a hand friendlily on my shoulder. "Ah, Sevens. Hello," I glanced up at him before clearing my throat and turning to Ahuff. "Ah, right. Sir, this is..."

"Rhan Kaine. Titian Ahuff, yes? My father observed your squadron prior to your accident. He was impressed and rather curious as to how much Ozzel paid you to take that blame for his mistake."

The entire table went as silent as the grave as those words left that man's mouth and every head that wasn't Thesh's trained on him as if we were expecting the ground to literally open up and swallow him whole, or, form the look on his face, that the admiral in question was going to materialize and have him demoted again. Thesh's face finally settled from mortified to purely unenthused as he managed out the words, "Not nearly enough."