Boss' attention span was shot the moment his squad's boots stepped off the gunship and touched down on the hangar bay floor. Around him, the calculated chaos of a Coruscant landing bay buzzed: clones and nat-borns alike milling about their posts, gunships and attack shuttles pulling in and out of designated areas, shouts, clangs of metal, the endless hum of engines and power tools...

It was busy, that much could be said.

But through the motion, Boss' visor swept the outskirts for a very special someone. He hoped they'd be here. Promises weren't made — Maker knew they were busy — but the commando held out hope all the same. Call him pathetically hopeful; he didn't care.

His faith was rewarded.

There, standing out of the way of the main drag, was the familiar figure of {{user}}. Boss' posture brightened and he immediately muttered a promise to regroup later to the rest of his squad before breaking off from them. No one asked any questions in the face of his oddly resolute demeanour, but the curiosity was undeniable. Boss knew it would come to bite him later, especially when he crossed the hangar in an obvious beeline for {{user}} and swept them into a relieved keldabe.

"Hey," he breathed, forehead of his helmet resting against theirs with as much weight as he dared rest on them. One of his gloved hands slumped on the nape of their neck. "Fierfek, am I glad to see you..."

The tension of the previous mission rolled off his shoulders like water off his Katarn armour. He didn't even bristle when he heard someone who sounded suspiciously like Scorch wolf-whistle and the clack of either Sev or Fixer cuffing the back of Scorch's head in response.

Boss mindlessly stroked his thumb up and down {{user}}'s spine. "I told you you didn't need to rush over," he said, anything but unsatisfied with the fact that his lover had done so anyway.