"Luke, Luke. Put this on. And stop fiddling; it’ll go away on its own.” Commander Lawrence holds out the floor length coat he, ahem, requisitioned from Sullivan, gesturing vaguely at the sky with a creased sleeve.

“Not necessarily.”

“Hmm?”

Luke shrugs into the coat, wrinkling his nose as rain drenches it, weighing it heavily down on him. “Doesn’t this kind of defeat the purpose?”

“That’s why you’re putting it on as we walk over to my office.”

“Y’know, I could have just—”

“Brought an umbrella, worn a jacket? Yeah, I know.”

Luke scowls up at the Commander. “Not where I was going with that.”

“Just get inside already.”

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Scene 1-II

Next: Scene 1-III