Farquaran Jungle

15 days after the start of the Farquar Invasion

1011 Hours, GST

Waiting in the jungles was not an ideal thing to do, Headshot thought as he sat, cleaning his deece for the third time since his squad had called. Firstly it was damp. Jungle simulators on Kamino were always a little wet, but this was more of a rainforest. After that, the wild animals. They just jumped out at sitting prey, snarling and spitting. Stang, sims didn't prepare for that. They only did so for being hunted down by a sentient being or a droid. Not just waiting.

And then the boredom of waiting. Headshot knew all about that.

There was a crack of a twig behind him. The trooper was on his feet, pointing his blaster immediately at the general area of the sound. When nothing approached, he slowly, very slowly turned around to face the other areas some creature could hide in.

Stang, get on kriffing double time! He thought, getting just a bit panicky. This predator wasn't showing itself...

Headshot's brain barely processed the shrill screech before he was tackled by something. Something big, clawed, and angry. He wriggled under it's grip for a few seconds, then was flipped over and saw the beast. It was huge, four-legged, with long shaggy fur and a small head. It's jaws, though, were huge, filled with two rows of yellowish teeth. It had two giant fangs protruding from it's maw, and spit dribbled down it's chin, falling in drops onto his helmet and chin guard. It's short tail stump waggled as it leaned in for the kill.

Okay, shabuir, no clone on the menu today.

Headshot held back the thing's fangs as it tried to stab them through his abdomen, struggling to keep a grip. The fangs were smooth, and easily able to slip out of his grasp and impale him.

He shoved the animal away, freeing himself. As it was subdued for a few seconds, Headshot got down on his knees and searched the ground for his blaster.

Not enough-

The beast attacked him again, this time leaping onto his back and forcing him to flip it off.

Kriffin'

He saw the black metal weapon, resting in the crook of a short tree just three meters away from where he was.

Time!

Headshot screamed in agony as one of the monster's fangs, snapped off it's gums and into his shoulder. Pain exploded inside of him, and he gasped for air. He rolled over, blood beginning to drip from the fabric of his black bodysuit. The fang had fallen out onto the forest floor. It was covered in mud and blood. The animal was still hissing, finding it had injured it's prey at the expense of it's tooth.

He stood and stumbled towards the tree where his deece lay. The monster quickly recovered and came bounding after him. Headshot knew if he didn't get the blaster now, he was dead. He was in no way able to fight in his condition.

The beast head nearly got him. It pounced, landing his his legs and dragging him backwards. Headshot screamed as he was dragged into the thing's slobber-filled maw.

The blaster fell out of the tree. It was just in reach of his fingers,so Headshot dragged it to himself and tried to flip himself onto his back. When he did, his leg snapped.

Stang, he though, but the pain was numbed. He went back to the stomach position and held the deece against his side. He closed his eyes. This would only work if luck, or the Force, or whatever was with him. He fired. And fired. And fired. Until the blaster's magazine went out.

The dragging stopped.

Headshot rolled over, the barrel of his blaster smoking, and stared at his handiwork.

The animal lay on it's side, it's tongue lolling out of it's mouth, and smoke rising from the scorch marks of his blaster had hit. Headshot had hit it's leg, forcing it to fall over, then the rest had gotten it's chest and head. Bluish-purple blood began to trickle out of the woulds, and Headshot crawled away, trying to put as little weight on his twisted leg as possible.

He sat down, leaning on a tree for support, and waited.

He lost track of time. A small roba-like animal came out of the bushes and was shot immediately by Headshot. It was small enough that the one blaster shot fried it, so he dragged it over and ate the meat. It tasted a little bit like plasma, but he didn't complain. He was hungry.

As he finished the last of the meat, something on his HUD signaled movement.

"Finally," he grunted, getting his blaster ready just in case it wasn't his brothers. His deece wasn't loaded, of course, but he could make a show of being threatening.

"Headshot?" A voice came over the comms. "Is that you? You're close by if our HUDs are working," Joss's voice asked.

Headshot tapped his helmet to boost the signal. "Yeah, I'm here. You got Chaw with you? I've got some injuries..." He hissed as his shoulder swelled.

Joss didn't answer.

"Joss?"

"Right here, ner'vod," Joss said, stepping through the treeline and in front of Headshot. He grumbled.

"Took you long enough, Sarge."

Joss took off his helmet, revealing a grin. "Well, maybe you could have landed in some place other than the jungle." The other remaining members of the squad followed through.

"Hey," Chaw said, kneeling down to inspect Headshot's leg. "Well, you've got a dislocated lower leg, and a fractured arm. I'll need a brace and some real medical attention to put your leg back in place."

"You haven't checked my worst one," Headshot told him. Chaw took off his helmet and raised his eyebrow. "Turn around, then." The medic pulled his gently forward, and got around to see his back.

His eyes widened and he muttered a curse. "Stang, Head, what d'you do?" Headshot shrugged, causing a stab of pain to go up his spine. "Animals." Chaw analyzed the wound.

"Definitely pierced the flesh, with a minor break in the blade. Infection is coursing through the thoracic area," he said, his brow furrowing with. Headshot sighed.
"You can translate that into basic for me,"Joss said. Chaw rolled his eyes.

"His upper back," the medic enunciated the words slowly, as if he was teaching them new words. "Is getting bad germs inside of it."

"Okay," Headshot hissed. "You have any bacta?"

"Not with me. Paratroopers sustain lots of injuries."

Joss muttered something. "Well, then, let's get him back to General Kenobi. He'll probably have some Jedi magic or something that'll fix him."

Chaw gave instructions for Juol and Six-two to make a stretcher using a tarp he had on him and two branches. He was too injured to walk. Meanwhile, he used a laser cauterizer, a portable device that emitted a low-spec laser into the wound, to close it and stop infection.
"It'll hurt for a while," Chaw told Headshot. "But it's nothing some bacta can't fix. You'll be fine by the end of the day." Joss and Ril loaded him onto the stretcher and began to carry him through the jungle, back towards, where he assumed, that Kenobi's forces were waiting.

Laying on the stretcher gave Headshot time to think. And rest. He did more of the latter. After watching for danger for the last hour or so, he was ready to sleep for a long, long time. He drifted off and woke several times, being in a new place each time. When they finally reached the 2nd Airborne's encampment, he was wide awake.

The paratroopers had enough supplies to take a large village, not the entire capitol of Farquar.

Two patrol's worth of BARC speeder bikes were stationed around the hut that Headshot assumed was the command tent or medical center. Around the edges were four AT-RT, all terrain recon transports, were circling the camp, with ARF troopers mounted on them. There were also one larty, filled with weapons, supplies, and another AT-RT, which had become to be known as the aretee.

Joss and Ril set him down near the tent. "I'll go speak with General Kenobi," the sergeant told him, patting his good arm. He entered the tent, then came out only a few seconds later, with Kenobi. The Jedi knelt down and placed his hand on the fractured arm. "Well, Headshot," he said, putting on a grim smile. "We'll have to get you some treatment. I'll trust my medics to get you fit and ready." Kenobi stood, waved his hand in a gesture for two troopers, apparently medics, to come over. "Chaw already inspected me," he grunted. The general nodded and called for Chaw to instruct the others in healing him.

"Okay, trooper," one of them said. "I'm Lieutenant Mey," he said. "I'm going to sedate you, alright?" Headshot only nodded and submitted as the lieutenant ejected a syringe from his medpac. It was full of greenish-blueish thick liquid. Mey injected it quickly into his upper arm, and there was a little blood. Then he fell asleep.

The next morning, Headshot had a severe headache and had a brace attached to his leg. His arm was wrapped up in a cast, and a bacta patch on the stab would. It hurt, but Mey and the other medic, Silad, had told him if it didn't hurt they would have no way of knowing whether it had healed or not. They had also used their stylus to mark Headshot's bucket with a triage that signaled walking wounded. Since most of the other wounded had been healed by now, General Kenobi had ordered that they would move out by 1500 that day.

"Hey, Head," someone said to Headshot as he mounted up on a speeder. It was Six-two. "Sorry for, er, overreacting?" he said, taking a speeder next to him. Headshot blinked under his helmet. He reached out and clapped his buddy's shoulder. "It's okay, Six-two," he said. "I understand."

There was a long pause, then Six-two responded. "Well, then," he said, placing his helmet on. "Almost time to go. Ready?"

"Yep. Let's get this over with. I want to get back to barracks."