In a few minutes, a group of figures came into view as Tesz and the group of clones (plus a droid and comatose Jedi) rounded one last pile of rubble.
“We take it, but if travel gets tough, it’s the first thing we’re dropping.” Duke said as he rose to his feet, getting a feel for his now somewhat alleviated leg.
Duke watched the sun slowly continue to creep down toward the horizon. They were losing daylight, and he was only willing to wait so long for the padawan-
A small train of survivors rounded a like of rubble. Finally.
“Good to see you made it, soldiers. Status report!” Duke barked out toward the approaching group, before adding in a lower tone, only in earshot of Buoy and Legacy, “Certainly took them long enough.”
Tesz grimaced a little internally at the Captain’s call. In her short time around Duke, she had grown to dislike the man. Something about his demeanor struck her as petty arrogance, and she couldn’t say she fully trusted his judgement. Granted, she had a hard time trusting anyone who wasn’t Viego, let alone clones.
But Viego had trusted them. Trusted the council enough to lead these men into danger, and they had trusted him enough to follow.
She’d have to do the same.
Tesz stayed by the stretcher as they approached, lost in her own thoughts as the group approached the Captain’s position.
Buoy was happy enough with that answer and stored what remained of the medkit on his person. He positions himself ready and at attention as the others arrive, though keeps an eye out for more clankers.
“When we get back, we can see if they took the record,” Buoy quips with a light chuckle.
“The General’s injured, and we’ve lost some equipment, but we’re ready and willing to follow orders, sir!”
Scalpel saluted with his free hand, glad to see the others at the encampment.
“Sir,” Wannabe said, closing the gap between him and the captain with rigid efficiency, and as if to spite the clones present (entirely intentionally), he murmured “A word, if you would, sir.” I am so glad I am not capable of retching out my internal components like these organic droids are, or I might do so purely out of protest.
“Sir,” Wannabe paused to look back at the rest of the Clones, his voice preparing its drop from flat to downright condescending. “Sir, I am aware of the hypocrisy of this seeing as I am an artificial lifeform, and am therefore not subject to the multifaceted whims of the more organic droids,” Another look back. “but I regardless find it contemptible the utter lack of protocol and incompetence displayed by our field medical officer in retrieving the General. It is difficult to determine what condition he was in and how his condition was worsened by the idiotic bumbling of this Scalpel unit.”
“Sir.” The droid remained motionless, his blue photoreceptors glowing unresponsively.
“I might remind you, Droid, that we just fell off a Venator, so you might want to check if anyone else needs assistance,” Scalpel commented. “I’m sure that the Commander will agree.”
Scalpel straightens up as he stands, awkwardly shifting a container on his belt.
“He appears to have only minor abrasions to his forearms and legs, though I’m worried about injuries sustained to his head. The computer array in the cockpit fell on him, and while I believe he used the Force to block some of the impact, he wasn’t able to stop the full weight from landing on him. We need to get him somewhere where he can be transferred to a full hospital or a spaceport where we can get him to medical care. I don’t have the tools to perform the necessary procedures, at least without a significant risk of infection.”
He grimaced under his helmet, thinking of the sorry state of his equipment.