plotted starter for @orderlivedā
This wasnāt good.Ā
Okay, that was a bit of an understatement. This was bad. This was very bad.Ā
It was supposed to just be a routine mission - as much as any mission could be āroutineā. Touch down, take out the droids, provide relief to the units already on the ground. Standard faire. (When had military missions become standard for them? ⦠It didnāt bare thinking about.) It should have been easy.Ā
Of course not.Ā
It could have been worse, he supposed. They could be dead. They werenāt dead, so that was good. Their masters could be dead. He was fairly sure they werenāt, given that that was their transport carrying on ahead. Braig squinted against the swirling dust and smoke and sun to try to make it out. His comm pinged and he looked down to it. The light stuttered, but⦠But it worked.Ā
Sort of.
āHello?ā He leaned into the tiny device, but flinched back when it spat a shower of sparks. He wrinkled his nose in a mix of distaste and discomfort. He was fairly certain that was his masterās voice crackling through, but it was so choppy and distorted it was impossible to make out.Ā
āI-I canāt hear you.ā He works his jaw around the taste of dust and copper. āBut, we--ā He looks around. The Force weighs heavy and stale with death, but thereās a spark there. One of them made it. Judging by the way it stirs, itās Master Billabaās padawan - Caleb.Ā
āCaleb and I are alright. Everyone else is- Down.ā That hurt to say, for more reasons than one. The medic part of him insisted he should lie still and wait for help, just in case. The soldier part of him told him that would get them both killed. The Jedi part said it was a pretty good thing the Force was with them. It always was.Ā
Okay.
Step one was getting out of here.Ā
āHey, Caleb?ā He grunted, worming his way out of the restraints. āAre you awake?ā He squinted at the light, once again searching the clouds.Ā
āāCause I think thatās going to be an awfully long way to carry you, otherwise.ā














