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The Backwater Tavern's chaos had reached a crescendo, with fists flying and curses echoing off the walls. Cooper was in his element, dealing swift justice to the trio of louts who had pushed him past his considerable patience. His broad shoulders and quick fists made short work of the tall one and the stocky brute, but the third troublemaker had scrambled onto a table, brandishing a chair like a lion tamer gone rogue.

You wanna play King of the Hill, jackass? Cooper barked, dodging the chair as it came hurtling down. He grabbed the table's edge and tipped it, sending the man sprawling onto the floor with a satisfying thud.

Cooper, catching sight of Cassian’s intervention, arched a bushy eyebrow. Well, ain’t you just a shiny knight in leather armor? Between the two of them, there wasn’t a lot of fight left, pretty soon Cooper was catching his breath and headed towards the counter.

Maker’s breath… Cass? He squinted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. What in the fade are you doing here? Thought you were off somewhere sticking your neck out for people who don’t deserve it.

He let out a sharp snort, grabbing a broom from behind the counter. You don’t write, don’t visit, but here you are, waltzing in like some damn hero. You think this is your grand comeback? Helping your old man knock a few heads together?

@Cassian Maxwell