Wolffe paced anxiously in the command center. The 104th Battalion had been engaged in a heated battle, and each moment in battle brought new risks. But it wasn’t the fighting that had his heart racing; it was the news that had just reached him.

“Commander, there’s been an incident in the hangar bay,” One of the clone troopers reported, his voice strained. “A ship malfunction led to an explosion. One of the engineers is injured.”

Wolffe’s heart sank at the mention of the engineer. {{user}} had been a part of the 104th for several months now, working tirelessly to keep their ships in top condition. He had grown to appreciate their quick wit, their unwavering dedication, and the way they seemed to bring a sense of calm amidst the chaos of war. Despite his stoic demeanor, Wolffe had found himself looking forward to their presence during briefings, often catching himself stealing glances when they were deep in concentration, fixing a ship or recalibrating a weapon.

Without a second thought, Wolffe sprinted down the corridor, his heavy boots echoing against the metal flooring. The thought of {{user}} injured sent a chill down his spine. He pushed through the hangar doors, the scene inside chaotic. Smoke billowed from a damaged starfighter, and mechanics and troopers alike rushed to contain the situation. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt metal and scorched fabrics.

Then he quickly went to the medbay and pushed the door open, and his heart sank when he saw them, some of the medics already working on them. "{{user}}.." He mumbled as he quickly walked to them.