Someone Order this Invasion to Go?

[Latus]

It's all funny. Fragging hysterical. I'm laughing with the ha ha ha, and such. An assassin that heals wounds, a killer that saves. I love being a walking irony which puts a bandage that goes here and there around the arm... tied in a knot to stop the blood flow.

Itani was tireless as he moved onto the last of the major injuries he could tend in short notice. The ride was getting bumpier and he didn't want to be caught flat footed if they were hit. Damned ge'verd pilot might just pull us out of this mess yet. Finishing a final splint the assassin quickly took stock of everyone and everything in the bay; blessedly all in order. Slowly he took a deep breath and looked over at Trin, the armored beauty that he had practically professed his love to. He stood there for a moment staring at her, helmet off, gauntlets tucked beneath one arm on his heavily armored frame. What was I doing? An instant later the ship rocked and swayed violently bringing Itani back to himself.

Ah yes, surviving.

Carefully picking his way between corpse and kin he found himself against one of the far walls lined with braced seats. Ambria's voice reached him but only peripherally; it was more important to ride out the escape attempt than to see to Lia right now. She would find him later... if later ever came. The notion entered his brain only to be silenced by the many ways one can silently gut an unsuspecting target; a much more entertaining prospect and he smiled. The ship rocked violently again and he felt the gravity drive recalibrate, the ship's warning of entering into evasive maneuvers. With one move Itani sat down and snagged his helmet from the hook above the seat. So that's where you went! In another move he was strapped in and pulling on his gauntlets; for the second time that day he was thankful for the armor. With them on he slid the helmet over his head and locked into place, the optical readout coming online with a hum. Clenching the straps tightly Itani closed his eyes as the ride slowly smoothed out and Daryn's voice came over the intercom, slightly easing his fears.

"This is your Captain speaking. We're looking at clear skies for the remainder of your flight. Please limit your movements around the cabin to critical needs only. We will begin climbing up to break atmo i-...."

The break in communication followed by a sharp bank as the Star attempted another maneuver. In the cargo bay Itani's stomach lurched and his eyes shut tighter.

Gorramit Daryn, nar dralshy'a!

He could barely hear himself speak over the sound of two muffled explosions as the starship dodged and weaved, the vehicle pushed to its limit. A third more powerful explosion made Itani grit his teeth and was followed soon after by a loss of equilibrium and flying medical gear. Vertigo set in as the craft dove. The assassin was just about to breath his relief when another explosion rocked the bay. The din of flying bits of gear soon filled his helmet as he felt control fade from the foreword movement of the Star followed no more than a second later by Daryn's voice.

"Everyone, strap yourselves down. Emergency landing procedures are in effect."

Bollocks.

The next few minutes were the longest of Itani's life as he clenched his gauntlets around the seat he was occupying, the feeling of extreme vertigo unpleasant in an equal extreme. He didn't know how long but there were a few lesser rocks followed by a jarring metal tearing grind and screech. His red helmet rapped viciously on the back of the chair and he could feel the edges of his mind turning gray.

And then, it was over. Silence. The assassin could hear breathing within his helmet and realized it was his own. Gingerly he opened his eyes and saw only the blank readout of his helmet. Gorramit, even in the future nothing works. Quickly he compressed a button on the faceplate and the optics began their reboot process. As the screen burst to life he could still see nothing. Only blackness enveloped the assassin. Oh wow, right at home... night vision. The bay lit up with a greenish hue and he sighed. Everything was in disarray. The back of his head began to throb as he quickly undid the straps and stands. Slowly he began to see movement, forms of the other Mandalorians showing their various signs of life and, in one case, death. He sighed once more.

Back to it...

Standing he quickly moved to the other men in the bay checking vitals and other medic-like things. Great show... great show. Thankfully none of them were among the dead save Solus'ad in the next room and his thoughts passed to something else; getting them out safe. Whether the Republic had seen their crash or not there was certainly the possibility that they would soon be discovered. The only way Itani wanted to see that situation was armed. Thanks to Lia he knew the codes for the weapons lockers and moved to them. A quick punch and he was in, the many metal doors swinging open displaying a cache of death. He knew he wasn't military but someone had to take some charge in such a time of crisis.

Arm up, kids. Water pistols and toy swords are not allowed in the field.

Withdrawing a few daggers and pistol for himself his mind immediately swung to Lia. Oh great job, Itani. Think of weapons before your own sister. Cringing at the possible retribution he would receive he turned toward the cockpit in time to see his sister stumble out of the gangway, Daryn over her shoulder. The assassin smiled. They looked torn up but alive at least. Approaching Itani nabbed a roll of gauze from the floor and addressed Daryn. A few quick wraps and tear and the moderate head wound the pilot had taken was bandaged if only temporarily. Nodding at Lia he moved out of her way. Her own wound caught his eye as she stumbled by and he quickly tore another length of gauze, wadding it up and stealthily stuffing it in the hole in her armor. Glancing up at her reaction he shrugged.

Argue when we are out of this place, ori'vod. Slap me stupid if you wish but only after I've had a look at you. That will be your birthday gift.

It was an odd thing to remember and an odder time to remember it but Itani was beyond caring. A kind word could make the difference here. Nodding to her he skulked to the hatch out of the cargo bay and began fiddling with the controls. They looked damaged internally and with the lack of lighting the power could certainly be out. Crashes tended to do that. After a few moments the act proved futile and he turned away from it. In the night-vision mode something on the opposite wall caught his eye; it looked like the holds manual release. Shaking his head he approached it, covering the massive cargo bay of the Star in so many steps.

A manual release hatch... oh, how original.

[Jace]

"Everyone, strap yourselves down. Emergency landing procedures are in effect."

That was all that registered in Bane's mind, even through the pain of his wounds. He had assumed that their mission was hard enough, to get shot down on the way 'home' was not expected. Of course there was always the possibility but who would have thought? They had infiltrated a Republic base, they had killed so many soldiers, how could they lose now? Lose. Maybe it was not losing. They had accomplished what they had set out to do, was that not accomplishment?

In any true Mandalorian's mind though, there was a different thought. They wanted to die on the battlefield. A vibroblade through their chest, even a blaster bolt from an enemy soldier. Getting killed in a transport ship, to Bane, that was embarrassing. Though this was different then most cases. It was true that during an invasion, that many ships didn't even make it to the ground. Those in the transport ships didn't even get a chance to prove themselves on the battlefield. In honesty, that was one of Bane's biggest fears. Twas not a fear of death or anything of the like, but a fear of uselessness. A true soldier was not one that didn't fear anything, but one that acknowledged his fears and persevered despite them.

Bane came to in a midst of noises, lights, and a significant deal of pain. It only took him moments to realize that they had crashed and his current situation was a result of that. The Mandalorian's vision finally began to focus on his surrounding. He could see the blinking lights, the sparks flying from various different places. Bane slowly got to his feet, barely able to keep upright at first. Numerous seconds later he finally steadied his balance. Gathering his surroundings, Bane noticed a figure in the corner. For a moment, he believed that that the body laying there was still alive.

He moved over to the body, a little shakiness in his steps. Then Bane steadied himself, rooted his feet, and bent over to pick up the body. He carried Mandalore's body on his shoulders and out of the ship. Step by step he carried his dead leader's body from the broken wreckage and onto the ground. He stumbled but managed to keep his balance for a few more yards before buckling to his knees. The general managed to lay Mandalore's body on the ground before turning onto his back and clutching his side. Bane's wound had reoppened, but he had managed to save Solus'ad's body. There were still many battles to go, death would not come to him yet.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

“Bring him back over here. I’ll tend to him. The others…”

Negative. Grab yer gear an’ a kit, you’re playin’ doctor on the road.

With that she kept on down the walkway and down the short flight of stairs down to the main bay where the others were, the sound of movement reaching her audio input and thus her ears. Good there was life.

“Arm up, kids. Water pistols and toy swords are not allowed in the field.”

Itani…thank Manda…that meant that the lockers had been opened. Glancing around, her helmet swiveled from one side to the other as she allowed a few mandos pass in front of her before hitching Daryn up on her shoulders a bit more and pulling her rifle from the straps she’d hurriedly shoved it into, hitching it over her shoulder, careful not to clock Daryn in the head in the process. A blaster cartridge was shoved into the empty weapon on her hip and pulled out before carefully being switched to her right hand as her left held Daryn steady. With no Bane in sight, Mal and Sol dead, Ambria seeing to the injured and Trin out of sight as well, she felt obliged to give some simple orders. They were mandos and could do most of the thinking themselves, but a little direction never hurt.

Alrigh’ we’re about a mile an’ a half from a safe zone to the north, we’re movin’ out. There’s Republic out there, don’ need ta tell you ta be cautious. No more heroes tonight please, just watch each others six as we get outta here. If yer injured stick to someone who ain’t, power is out so we’re gonna open the Manual Release Hatch on the side here. Ba’buir the left engine wall is damaged, punch through there and meet us outside….dammit Itani what’re ya doin’?

She hadn’t been able to see what her brother was doing half behind her as he dressed Daryn’s injury, her eyes having elsewhere in the ship as she looked for Bane the Invisible (he may as well be right now for all the organized chaos going on). Ark’s giant frame stalked through the large hanger toward the double doors to the engine room and pried the doors open. The bright green and black of her night vision shifted as she moved her head and spotted the gauze around Daryn’s head and nodded to her brother. Without another word she started toward the MRH. That was about the time Itani decided to shove a wad of gauze into her injury. Her helmet was, obviously, still an emotionless mask, but behind it she winced and hissed.

Gorramit Itani! Go get other people pa--

“Argue when we are out of this place, ori’vod. Slap me stupid if you wish but only after I’ve had a look at you. That will be your birthday gift.”

Thanks for reminding me…some birthday…

The grumbled reply was to no one since Itani had already vanished off in the direction of the hatch and was getting it opened. Following up after him, she waited quietly for several moments before catching the attention of one of the other Spec Ops team that wasn’t injured.

When he gets this open, take a peek outside an’ let us know if it’s clear.

Turning back to the others she gazed out over the small crowd and sighed.

When I give the go ahead head out an’ spread yerselves out a bit. No use makin’ us a big target…keep ta smaller groups but lets try an’ stay in sight of each other.

The hatch swung open and the Ops member she’d recruited headed out…once the all clear was given, she gave the others the go and the mandos headed out into the waning night. Ark had taken the rear, finding Bane and Sol’s body there near one side of the Star. Grabbing Sol’s body once more, he’d started off just as Lia had come out of the Star. She’d had to be certain she was the last one out…it wouldn’t do to leave someone behind. Finding Bane there, she headed over to him.

We have ta move Bane, c’mon. Ain’t far…think ya can keep up Old Man…Sir?

She smirked behind her helmet at the old joke. Gore covered though she might be, the armor covering her still glinted in places under the stars and moon. Blue, black, red, gold, green…the armor itself symbolized reliability and justice, the red stripes to honor her father and Rish, gold lettering on her kama for vengeance…then there was the gold crusader emblem (vengeance) with a green Ordo aliit symbol overlay on one shoulder and a green Shiros aliit symbol on the other…duty. Ordo…heh…never thought I’d be an Ordo, much less one tryin’ ta help take over a planet…go figure. Well, back ta work.

She’s waited just long enough to get some kind of reply from Bane before moving out after the others.

[Mr.Bøbert]

"Augh!"

Zeth hated getting injured. Well, who didn't? But he hated it more then most, mostly because it involved someone else patching him up. Wounds were weakness. He didn't like showing other people weakness, even other Mandos, even Mando doctors and medics.

So here he was, alone, in the refresher, with all his armor except his left arm's and his helmet still on, trying to inject painkiller into his arm. It wasn't easy. The stupid ship kept bucking side to side, up and down, rolling, swerving... He'd have to have a word with the pilot.

And finally, the ride smoothed out.

"This is your Captain speaking. We're looking at clear skies for the remainder of your flight. Please limit your movements around the cabin to critical needs only. We will begin climbing up to break atmo i--"

Uh-oh. He'd stopped talking, that could only mean something bad...

"Oh, osIIIIIIIIII--"

The kriffing ship tipped over on it's side, spilling Zeth onto the wall. He couldn't tell what was wall, floor, or ceiling anymore. The ship began swerving again. Zeth was slammed against the walls--or floor or ceiling-- again and again. He was cursing colorfully in both Basic and Mando'a.

Then something hit the back of the ship, jolting him violently into something that shattered beneath his weight. Something exploded outside, muffled by the walls of the ship.

"Everyone, strap yourselves down. Emergency landing procedures are in effect."

Finally, The ship was level again, but they were going down. Zeth looked around frantically for something to strap himself into. But this was the refresher. Who'd be stupid enough to be in the kriffing refresher while the ship was being shot at by a kriffing swarm of kriffing bloodthirsty Republic fighters?

He hurriedly found his helmet, secured it on his head, and braced himself in the hatchway.

Osikosikosikosikosikosikosi--

And the ship crashed.



~~~



Zeth awoke, sore in a thousand places. In fact, he couldn't find any place on his entire body that wasn't sore. He was certain his left arm-- the one that had already been stabbed, and wasn't wearing armor during the crash-- was hurting even more, and his right ankle wasn't feeling so great either. Probably sprained. And his head felt as if someone had flown full-speed a starfighter into it.

...Starfighter...

Oh, right. He was in a ship. They had been trying to escape from Republic Forces after sabotaging their base, clearing a way for the rest of the Mando army... And had been shot down. Perfect.

He rolled onto his back, and found what he'd crushed: the painkiller. Oh, joy. Perfect. Wonderful. He sighed. At least his two pistols and the lightsaber were still intact.

He slowly hauled himself up to his feet, trying to ignore his muscles' screaming protests. He could hear voices echoing through the hallways, and he had to see if everyone else was still okay. ...And he needed new painkiller. Alot.

He limped back to the medical room, and found quite a few mandos had survived the crash. He melted into the small group of armored warriors, slipping over to a cabinet, grabbing some more painkiller, and stabbing it into his left arm. The stinging and soreness began fading away instantly. He could probably use it if he had to. He sure didn't want to, though.



After a few more minutes, the Mandalorian survivors were headed out of the crashed ship into the night.



((Terrible ending I'm rushing...))

[Mara]

Her mind still a bit fuzzy from the beating it had taken during the turbulence and subsequent crash, Ambria could only blink at Italia as the other woman snubbed her and proceeded to give her orders. The dark-skinned woman knew they were of the same rank now, but a part of her still hadn't come to terms with the promotion. The part of her that knew that only one of them had been training in the army since before she was 18. And then another part of her was surprised that she was even spending her time thinking about that when there were much more important things to bother with. A third was glad she was not thinking about Turin or Solus'ad.

But there was no time to deal with all that now in her thoughts. There were sure to be wounded after that crash, more than just their pilot. Ambria didn't notice Itani come down and start dressing the unconscious man's wounds, nor did she see Bane pick up the body of Mandalore and carry him away. Or notice any of the others. Her muddled brain was only focusing on the few things she needed to focus on: get medical supplies, her rifle and her helmet.

Turning from the mayhem where Italia, Itani and the others were, Ambria went back towards the medical bay, only partially noticing that the body she had strapped down to the small cot there was missing. She dug around, finally finding her medbag with its contents strewn around. Salvaging what she could, she stuffed it full with bandages, kolto wraps, syringes, vials full of medicine and whatever else she felt they could need.

When she swung the bag over her shoulder, she had to brace herself with her arm against a bulkhead, blinking hard to clear her vision. She checked her head again, and again her glove came back clean. Still only a bump. But it sure did hurt. Thinking she had just a headache, perhaps a mild concussion but nothing serious, she popped a pill before going on search for her rifle. Sure that she would be feeling better once she got in the fresh air and moving around.

She vaguely heard Italia talking off in the other part of the ship along with the noise of various weapons being checked, cocked and assembled but tuned the noise out. Those guns were good and all, but she wanted her rifle, the one she had left near her helmet upon getting to the Star. Ambria had good memories of that weapon, and even though she still had her two blasters in their holsters, she wanted it back. Even more badly than her helmet.

Ambria looked around the mess, having to squint sometimes to see clearly, looking for anything resembling her rifle. She headed towards where she had seen it last, hoping it hadn't traveled too far. And hoping that her helmet would be nearby as well. Just then a crash interrupted her thoughts, and she thought they had been attacked again. Quickly stepping back to the hallway, she peered around the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed the hulk of Ark halfway through the ship's hull. Nothing to worry about.

Except time, that was. With a way out, hearing also the whirring of the manual release, Ambria knew she didn't have much time before the group moved out. She also knew no one would leave her behind, but it would be best not to make them wait. There could be injured outside. And also the enemy. She needed to make haste, and started looking around at double time, tipping over boxes and looking through the scattered debris. A glint of yellowish orange came to her, and she pulled her helmet out. A rapid check conferred that it was okay, just a few dings and dents, but that the HUD wasn't functioning. So she just stashed it under her arm and continued looking for her rifle.

A few moments later she was jogging back to where the others were, medbag slung over one shoulder, her rifle over the other, helmet in hand. Ambria merged quickly into the group and headed down the ramp with them, just squeezing in front of Ark's large metal body.

After everyone was out, including Italia, she surveyed the group. Everyone seemed okay for the moment; all were standing save Bane, and that didn't raise any alarm for her. They had all just survived a crash. If they all hadn't been Mandos, she would have expected much worse from the group of them. Plus, it looked as if he was the one who had taken Mandalore's body out. All in all, they looked to be able to wait until they were sufficiently from from the crash site before she looked to their wounds.

With a final glance behind, she and the others continued away from the Star, senses alert for any danger of ambush. Ambria breathed in a breath of fresh air. Her head was feeling better already. Despite the circumstances, things were going all right.

She walked fairly alone, the next Mando about three meters to her left, as they all keep a spread-out formation for security. Ambria didn't try any smalltalk. She didn't recognize the man, him being one they rescued; plus, silence was preferable for more than one reason. But the silence didn't distract her with thoughts of their dead, her dead. As she kept her senses tuned for any danger, she pushed those thoughts further back, tucked behind mental barriers she was rebuilding ever since the incident with the Togruta Mando before leaving for Shogun. A moment of weakness that she wouldn't let happen again. The past would never again torment her.

So focused she was on her tasks that she didn't notice the medicine she had taken wearing off, or rather, having no effect at all. Her head was throbbing, and she had to blink a couple of times to clear her vision. Ambria stopped in her tracks and ran a gloved hand over her face, rubbing it as if she were just sleepy and needed waking up.

A few seconds later, though, her head feeling heavy and muddled, her vision blurry, she was falling, her one biological knee buckling as she fell awkwardly, her prosthetic knee still pin-straight. And she swore heavily, realizing in the back of her awareness that she was letting the team down. And hoping she wouldn't be gone long as she hit the dirt and blacked out.

[Latus]

Gorram this talyc, atin, lev'i, piece of junk. Open!

Even with his armor, Itani was struggling to pop the emergency hatch. Motion in the cargo bay had built to a peak; men running here and there arming up and caring for the wounded, Italia's voice ringing over the din of activity. On top of that Ark's massive form was finally online and addressing the far cargo doors as if they were so much tissue paper. Good to have him on our side... but for this damn release... Sure Itani was wiry but in no way a weakling, his strength augmented by the armor in exchange for dexterity strained against the damaged release, both gloved hands gripping the sturdy bar. Glancing about in desperation he spied a piece of pipe that had come loose from the crash. Scooping it up he jammed it into the recess. Foolproof systems don't take into account the ingenuity of fools. A grin spread across his helmeted face as he felt it give slightly then a bit more. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of his fellows approach the door and, with one final massive tug the lever snapped upward, ejecting the hatch with a rush of air.

Everyone off! Watch that first step.

Indeed the drop to the ground was sizable but the hatch acted as a kind of ramp making it workable. Sliding down it Itani touched a finger to his helmet, the night vision sharpening, a small round readout appearing on the lower left of his vision. On it he saw blips behind him; motion blips. Another smile crossed his face as he gently drew a vibrodagger from its holster, the hilt capped by a tiny button; a fun little surprise for his enemies. The sky was still black save for tracers and explosions, the crystal outcrops stretching away from him. Glancing back at the group again he watched as they started to move down the ramp and into the darkness. Quickly he replaced a dagger in his belt. Touching his helm again he opened a channel to the special ops team. If this worked he didn't want to be shot on accident by a skittish ally.

Vanishing. I'll blaze our trail... just follow the bodies.

Another touch and a way-point swam into sight. Quest marker is... 7913 feet that way. If there were going to be soldiers, and the fates suggested there would be, he was the least likely to be seen, armor and all. Sure he was most at home in urban crowded environs but he crystals that comprised Shogun's terrain were not very luminescent this late at night. Shadows were in no short supply. Quickly giving the others a lopsided farewell he sank into the background, delving into years of practice, and vanishing into the darkness. The noise the armor made was inconvenient but not impossible to work with; even more of a challenge. On soft loam and undergrowth he made no sound whatsoever, on the Shogun crystal soils his footsteps were like the wind that was blowing. Carefully he stepped foreword, picking his way around the jagged formations of crystals without making a sound. They would have to move slow because of the injured so the assassin could take his time.

The group moved, slowly but surely. Every step they took Itani saw, every hobble, every shuffle. Ark's motion read as a massive blotch surrounded by the special ops group flanking him. Itani only led by a hundred feet or more when he happened to notice a blip vanish. Even from so far away he heard a body hit dirt and he cringed. Whoever it was he was too far away to help them now. A new blip on the opposite edge of the readout gave Itani pause. Gently he stalked foreword until his target came into view; one republic soldier. His rifle was up, scanning up, down, around, Itani could even hear the breathing. A semi-lit eyepiece gave the man's position away immediately and the assassin froze.

Solo tango identified. Asking to tea...

The soldier, even with his new republic equipment, walked right past the red and black armored assassin. Taking a sharp breath Itani struck, dagger shooting out and embedding itself in the man's kidney, his free hand coming up and around to muffle a shout. All that registered on his feed was a gurgle as the body sank to the ground. With a yank and flick of the steel blade he sank back into the crystalline plant life, efficient as ever.

Tea and biscuits served point oh three clicks north... hurry up back there.

[Meira]

The adrenalin had started to wear off. The shock of seeing Mandalore's lifeless body was fading with it. In its place, exhaustion was setting in. Trin hadn't gone through the worst of this mission by any means. But she was tired, as she was sure they all were. So it wasn't hard to smile and nod her head when Itani had told her to clear out and away from the wounded on the ship. She wandered out of the hold and found herself a nice little nook where she plopped down her tired bones. Her head leaned back against the cool metal wall and soon enough, her eyes were fluttering closed into the empty bliss of sleep. Even as the ship began to shake as evasive maneuvers were taken, Trin felt the motion as if on a boat slowly rocked by gentle currents.

That is until the ship started to go down.

Trin awoke, eyes wide and chest already rising and falling with her accelerated breathing. Her ears were ringing so loud she could hear nothing else as the ship shook violently, and there was a sharp pain around her eye that pulsed with every beat of her heart. That strange feeling in her stomach told her that they were descending, and fast. What she wasn't able to know was that they were already about to crash.

On impact, Trin found herself flying down the corridor. Unprepared, she'd been unable to grip anything, much less strap herself down. Had she been able to hear, she'd have heard the cacophony of the metal of her armor banging against the metal floor, walls, and ceiling as she was thrown like a rag doll. She came to a halt against a door, upside down with her legs above her head that was jammed at an awkward angle against the floor under the weight of her armored body. Seconds later her helmet, which had been set on the ground beside her as she fell asleep came tumbling towards her and collided against her chin, causing her vision to blur and her stomach to turn. Darkness threatened to envelop her mind, but Trin struggled against its advance, forcing herself to roll over, then stand.

She leaned against wall for support her hands grasping tenderly at her side where she was sure a rib or two was broken. Then, the door malfunctioned, opening suddenly and sending the woman tumbling through into the main hold where her vod were already starting to abandon the ship. She let out a cry of pain as she hit the floor, her already twice wounded cheek colliding again. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, but could go no further until a passing soldier offered her his hand. She grasped it and he pulled her up, taking her arm over his shoulder to support her weight. Trin didn't know the man, but at this moment she didn't care. She managed to scoop up her helmet as he walked her out of the ship.

Once back on the turf, the other soldier set her down on a crystal formation and moved to secure the perimeter. Trin was barely able to get out a thank you before he disappeared into the swarm of other soldiers around her. She took stock, noting that her two blasters were still in their holsters on each thigh. She took them out, one then the other, to check for damage. They seemed to be fine. Her pack was somewhere in the jumble of debris of the crash, it wasn't worth locating now. She could get new equipment when they got out of this hell hole. So she dawned her helmet, cracked visor and all and waited for her HUD to load.

"Tea and biscuits served point oh three clicks north... hurry up back there."

Itani's voice caused the woman to stir. All at once she felt the sudden pang of the thought of him dying, the fear of not knowing his fate, and then the relief of knowing he was alright. She had to catch her breath at the flood and wait for the dizzying feeling to subside before she attempted to stand.

When she did make it to her feet, she unholstered one of her blasters and hobbled over into a small formation that was preparing to move. She positioned herself in the center, hoping that the pace of those around her would encourage her to keep up and push through the pain of each step. They began to move, and Trin kept her mind focused on seeing that man again. If nothing else. She would keep moving until she found him.