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    Summary

    Eleni’s eyes fluttered closed as Howzer closed the gap between them, and the feeling of her lips parting under his own only fanned the flames that had been burning deep in his stomach. Cham’s hands never left him, still tracing idle lines up and down the back of his neck in a touch that made him shudder, his own hand cupping Eleni’s jaw with something approaching reverence. Eventually he pulled away from her, breathless.  “I want—”

    Howzer cut himself off, horrified. He was in no position to be asking for what he wanted. He could count on one hand the number of times in thirteen years his wants had been considered, and he wouldn’t even need the whole hand to do it. His needs had certainly been seen to — food, water, improved armor, more soldiers — but if it wasn’t necessary to win the war, it wasn’t granted to the clones.

    As soon as he clamped his traitorous mouth shut against those words, Eleni paused, her full, dark lips a hairsbreadth from his own as she murmured, “What is it, Howzer?”

    Cham’s hands stilled on his shoulders, the general leaning so close his lekku brushed the back of Howzer’s neck. “Ask and you shall receive, Captain.”

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