“Man… ow. That wasn’t good.”
Scalpel gets to his feet, grasping at a nearby power conduit.
“Are you all right, Commander?”
He looks at Tesz, who appears to be in shock. Practically everyone would be in shock now, he thought.
Oh, how he loved the Force.
Or how much he would if it actually did anything for him.
Wannabe’s eyes briefly disconnected from Tesz Nel’Sha to look at Viego Norr and see that, yes, the Force had chosen to secure him. Or Tesz had; if he was being honest, Wannabe had absolutely no idea how the force actually worked. In spite of that, however, he felt no compunction over blaming the Force for everything it didn’t do.
One of those things on the rapidly growing list of insufferable offenses committed by the Force was not securing him in any way, as the impact against the second tower threw him into the floor, loosing his grip on the poor pipe, and the resuming fall threw him into the ceiling before dropping him into the floor again.
Aside from a couple scuffs and dents, Wannabe appeared to be in working order, although he had to reholster his blaster. Struggling to his feet in time to hear Scalpel’s inquiry, he angrily strode over to the now rescued medic and proceeded to get right up in his face.
“Secure. The. General.” He hissed, blatantly undisguised fury in his voice. Tesz’ condition drew his head back towards the Padawan, and he broke from the Clone to descend onto one knee and visually observe her in the event she may have been injured. “Master, I must confess the Republic’s concept of a twin-tower system is plain terrible. May I issue a formal complaint when we return?”
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“Aah! Yes, right, right…”
Scalpel begins applying bacta to the few external injuries on the Jedi. I wish that droid would be quiet, he thought.
He hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but it would have to work. If it at least came with some Bacta in there, they would be in decent shape. If not, the Captain is going to have a lovely walk.
Collecting the kit, Buoy scavenges only a bit more before returning to the gathered group. Then the question about injuries was asked.
“Just a broken heart from lost brothers. Nothing that blasting clankers can’t heal.” Buoy answers.
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Suddenly lessening his pull on the sled to walk straight, Legacy glanced around in shame to see if any other troopers heard the captain’s remark
Hoping that nobody else actually was in earshot when the captain slid the comment, Legacy raised his voice a bit to half-yell “No sir!”
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“None that I’m aware of, sir!”
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Tesz’s response was simply nod, a far off look in her eyes.
There didn’t seem to be any more injuries on top of what the girl had already sustained, and the same would go for the rest of the clones.
Tesz began to nod again before stopping herself, seemingly snapping out of a daze, shooting the droid a bemused look. “Uh, yes?”
Then something seemed to click in her head as she stood up. She wanted to look after her master, but, but the medic was already doing that. No, right now she had to lead. Like he would have.
“Yes, you can issue that complaint, but lets focus on returning, first.” She replied with forced confidence, trying (and somewhat successfully) trying to project loud enough for the whole group to hear.
“Make sure my master is safe to move, then lets start heading toward the front of the ship.”
It would work well enough, and the General seemed safe to move, carefully at least, though he was still unconscious.
Duke nodded, a rare look of pride creeping under his helmet. Maybe working with these boys would be better than the last few squads. Maybe they actually had a chance.
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Huh.
Wannabe rose to his feet and looked slowly at the two Clones assembled there, the excuse of a medic applying the last bacta to Viego Norr’s unresponsive body. I didn’t think that would actually work. Okay, good for me, I suppose.
His eyes traveled in search of his lightsaber. It’s possible one of these geniuses might have eaten it.
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Scalpel finishes applying the bacta, then starts building a stretcher using the wreckage. It was pretty easy, using only wires and some metal beams, as well as some cloth from the remains of a nearby room that had some large cloth pieces, decorated with the Republic’s symbol.
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Grime, who, while enjoying the conversation, didnt enjoy hanging from the tipping of the bridge. “Could someone help me?” He asked,
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Buoy doesn’t notice Legacy’s injury yet, but who knows how long that might last. In the meantime, he tries making use of the medkit to help with the captain’s leg situation.
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It was, thankfully, still on the Jedi’s belt. How it managed to stay on during the crash was anyone’s guess.
The stretcher would come together fairly quickly.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Tesz said, muffling a cough as she looked up, obviously embarrassed at the oversight. “Just…sit still. This’ll probably feel a little weird.” She asides she closed her eyed, reached to her hands, and gently began lowering Grime to the ground.
After throwing a glance toward the stretcher and giving an approving nod, Tesz spoke. “All right, everyone ready to get moving?”
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Duke winced as the paratrooper worked, the Captain’s grip noticeably tightening on a beam protruding from the rubble behind him, fighting the urge to slap away Buoy’s painful, but helpful, hand.
The injury was nasty, armor dented and digging into the flesh. While he wouldn’t be able to provide any sort of permanent solution, Buoy’s administering of the medkit did provide at least some relief fo the time being.
“What’d you manage to scrounge?” He called out toward Legacy, more of a distraction for himself from the pain more than anything else.
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“If someone will help me with this stretcher, it’ll be much appreciated,” Scalpel says.
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“All the walkers are wrecked, so I grabbed my gear and pulled out the comms/jamming brick and the cannon off the front, plus something to power them both.”
“Theyre all pretty heavy together but we should be alright if we can spread the weight across three of us”
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“I’m pretty sure I said my skills is making falling look cool, not a item lugger,” Buoy jests.
As he finishes up work on the captain he asks, “How heavy is that thing? And how easy can it be ready for support fire if we’re ambushed?”
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Ignoring Bouy’s joke at first, Legacy adresses his questions
“The cannon itself isnt all too bad, just cumbersome. The other two on the other hand might need to be rotated out once in a while if we’re going to be trekking a ways.”
“Its an AT-RT cannon, not a Z6 buddy, I wasnt lucky enough to be assigned specifically to anti-infantry runs.”
“If we had another rider around yet, Id give it fifteen seconds together, probably another second to charge.”
Knowing the captain was injured and doubting the other clones, Legacy tossed a fat guess onto the table
“Since we dont, Id say thirty plus to firing”
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Wannabe once again gripped his blaster.
“I am not familiar with the solar cycles of this location.” He looked about at the abnormal flora of the planet. “It may be little time before we lose all daylight.”
Wannabe sighed. The consistent struggle of only having one gripping hand.
Assuming Grime picked up the other end, Wannabe began pushing towards the front of the vessel.
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“Will it be worth dragging it along then? That’s a lot of time to get blasted. Might have to abandon it if we get attacked. Hopefully it doesn’t get damaged, if we can return for it.” Buoy adds, thinking aloud.
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“Lets say we fought a tank without it when we get out of here, but bring it with just to be sure, eh?” Legacy joked, though a noticeable bit of annoyance and frustration was beginning to creep into his voice
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“If we’re fighting a tank, our best hope is mobility and getting in close. Even if–” Buoy stopped for a moment and then resumed. “Whatever, it’s the captain’s call.”
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