Summary: "Some of the droids give chase, blasts of red jetting past him and slamming into the untouched bark of the trees with loud, sizzling hisses." Things get rough while defending a Temple sacred to the Jedi Order. One-shot.
The Chill Of War
The first couple dozen missions fly by smoothly- as smooth as can be anyway. Chaotic, exhausting, draining. But there aren't any major injuries among the squad, and Tech begins to forget that it's a possibility- that death is a possibility.
Then they're shipped out to defend Ilum, the planet where the Jedi get the crystals that power their lightsabers. Because, apparently, the Jedi are too busy elsewhere to defend a place of such importance themselves.
It's a shame that the Separatists seem to understand the importance of this place.
There are a lot of droids on Ilum.
They've faced loads of droids before, but this is more than they've ever seen at one place.
Hunter's leaping on top of droids, slashing and hacking with his vibroblade. Wrecker's tossing them around like ragdolls, toppling rows upon rows of them along. Crosshair's doing what he does best, hanging back and sniping from afar. And Tech's racing through with his DC-17s and some thermal detonators, taking out what his brothers are too occupied to.
It's difficult not to slip, the planet's terrain covered in thick layers of snow and ice. At least the droids don't seem to appreciate it any more than they do. Not to mention that they are in the thick of a forest, and there are plenty of trees to grab onto if needed.
And Wrecker's grabbing onto lots of them. He really needs to work on his weight distribution.
Tech's blacks are soaked through, the thermo regulation useless against the snow. He can't help but to shiver a little with each step into the white depths beneath him- at least there are a few patches of scorched ground from the explosions. He makes a mental note to check his and the others' feet for frostbite when they eventually return to the Marauder.
He ducks as Wrecker launches a log over him, at some of the droids. It misses. Drastically.
"I advise against throwing things, Wrecker." He calls pointedly. "It would be rather humiliating to get downed by a log."
"Don't worry, I'll make it up to you if I hit ya!" His reckless brother promises with a laugh, as he knocks some more droids to the ground.
"If you hit him, I'll hit you." Crosshair warns over the comms, having picked up enough of the exchange to jump it.
Let's hope it does not come to that, Tech huffs to himself.
"Focus on the droids, not each other." Hunter growls in response to the sniper's comment.
Tech rolls his eyes, focuses back in on the mission.
More droids enter view in endless ranks, breaking out of their formation to open fire. "Clones! Get them!"
"Wrecker, Tech, with me." Hunter commands. "Head for the source, take it out. Crosshair, you focus on cover fire. Protect the Temple. Call in for reinforcements if I give the order."
"Affirmative." Crosshair responds.
"En route." Tech confirms, blasting down droids as he runs, zeroing in the approximate location of their source as he goes.
He sprints through the trees, his feet throwing up snow behind him. He almost loses his footing a couple of times in his haste, but he manages to get a grasp on a tree to steady himself each time. There's a slope on the left that's quickly turning into a straight, vertical cliff hundreds of feet tall.
Some of the droids give chase, blasts of red jetting past him and slamming into the untouched bark of the trees with loud, sizzling hisses. He swallows back the faintest trace of fear. He'll be fine. He always is- they always are.
He doesn't notice the dark shape following him in the treetops until it opens fire on the pursuing droids and reveals itself to be Crosshair. "Keep going! I'll cover you till I can see the others."
Tech gives him a sharp nod and does as he says.
They've been trained to run long distances, but it's so cold, there's so much snow- his legs are beginning to ache, his lungs aren't pulling in enough air. It's no wonder the droids' circuits are half frozen by the time they've been reaching their position. I knew coming to this planet was a bad idea.
His heart slams against his ribcage. His feet stumble over one another. He lets out a harsh breath through his teeth as he reaches out and catches his arm around a tree to pause and regain himself.
"You need to keep moving." Crosshair warns over a private channel.
"I need to breathe." He snaps back between gasps, trying to ignore the fogginess of his goggles.
"What were you doing, holding your breath?" His brother retorts with a sigh, blasterfire sounding in the background. "Try not to take your time."
Take my time? In the middle of a mission? Tech scowls, removes his helmet so his lungs can inhale fresh air faster. Though the sky is clear, the cold air is a shock to his skin. He almost wishes he didn't remove his helmet.
"Incoming on your right. You need to move." Crosshair's voice reaches him, and he notices that the blastershots are no longer faint to his ears, that he's growing closer again.
"I am moving." He tells him, pulling his helmet back on and drawing the blaster he'd holstered to hold it.
"Tech?" It's Hunter this time. "Where are you?"
"On my way." He promises with an exasperated sigh, taking one last deep breath before taking off again.
"Hurry up, the droids are catching onto our plan!"
"I am moving as fast as I-" Tech cries out suddenly, as pain flares through his side.
"Tech!" He scarcely hears Crosshair and Hunter's voices.
His side is on fire. His feet scrabble for purchase in the snow, but cannot find a solid hold. His hands toss his blasters somewhere and manage to find purchase in the rock beneath the snow, latching on with an intensity he's never noticed he possesses. His legs swing to the side, and suddenly they're dangling.
The cliff!
Trying to remain calm, he attempts to swing his legs back up onto the top of the cliff. One foot catches for a brief moment, then slips free. His own weight nearly pulls his grasp from the rocks, and the agony in his side reignites full force. He gasps through gritted teeth, and for the first time in many missions, he wonders if he'll die. No. Comm Crosshair. He is nearby. He will not let you fall.
He tilts his head, jabbing the corner of his visor into the button he can't risk pressing with his other hand.
"Cross-" He breaks off with a cough of exertion that makes his side throb worse than it already is. He's hurt- he's hurt bad- and he can't move. "I need assistance immediately."
"I see you." Crosshair returns, his voice strained in an uncharacteristic show of concern. "Do. Not. Let. Go."
"If only it were that easy."
"Is Tech okay?" Wrecker asks nervously.
"What's going on over there? Talk to me!" Hunter snarls. "Crosshair, coordinates!"
"No time!" Crosshair snaps back."Tech, eyes up!"
I do not want to know.
He doesn't, but he tentatively tilts his head to look up anyway.
Oh, that's why he slipped. And why his side hurts.
"Hands up, clone!" The first of the small troop of B1-series droids exclaims, blaster pointing down at his face.
Tech raises a brow, baffled at the machine's logic. "Uh..." That is not possible at the moment.
There's the distant sound of a blaster being fired, and then the droid's head is falling over the side of the cliff, the body crumbling to the side. Crosshair! But he doesn't have the time for relief.
"Attack!" Another droid shrieks. "Open fire!"
"What do we do with this one?"
"I don't know- blast him!"
There's a flash of red, and then he's falling. He doesn't know if he cries out from the agony pulsing through his shoulder. He's not sure if he imagines Crosshair's panicked shout, or if it's really there. His vision is dotted with black, and he's just...falling.
Down, down, down.
Endlessly.
He hears the sound of the air whooshing past him above the beat of his heart.
There's a foggy haze blotting out the alarms blaring in his head.
But he doesn't feel like he should be worrying about the horrible, pounding sensation that projects from two central points in his body, in his shoulder and his side. They feel far away anyway.
The trees on top of the cliff are getting farther away, tan shapes fall from it and past him. A dark figure positions itself at the edge, peering down at him, holding something. A cable extends from the figure, shooting down to him, reaching for him. He wonders what it is.
Tech slams into the side of the cliff with a grunt, his mind slamming back into his body properly- as does the reality of his current predicament. I nearly just died!
His shoulder feels as if it's being stabbed- it is, but just not the way he thinks- and he turns to look at it as a questionable warmth sinks into it. He probably should have been worried at the pain, but relief floods through him at the sight of the end of Crosshair's grapple cable. The claw digs through the pauldron and into his blacks, and his blood seeps out over it in torrents. But it's fine. Because he's not falling anymore.
He lifts his arm up to comm in, but the words that leave his mouth are not the appreciative ones he means to say. "You could have aimed for my other shoulder."
"You could've just said thank you." Crosshair huffs, and Tech can hear the relief in his voice.
Tech smiles, leans his head back against the rocky cliffside behind him. "Thank you, Crosshair."
"Wrecker, get over here."
"Why?" His confusion is almost amusing enough to drown out the sound of blastershots.
"I am currently hanging off the side of a cliff."
"Oh, yeah- be right there."
Wrecker takes a few long minutes to arrive.
The first jerk to the cable is received without a warning, and Tech gasps as it tears at his shoulder. His hands instinctively fly up to grasp the cable tightly.
"Wrecker's got you." Crosshair belatedly informs him. Hunter's barking an order at him in the background.
"I noticed." Tech wheezes.
There's something about being within talking distance that sends a wave of relief through Tech before he even touches the ground.
Hunter and Crosshair are mowing down the droids that had followed Wrecker and the sergeant to the cliffside. Crosshair holds Wrecker's giant automatic blaster, and each shot sends his body jerking back with a recoil greater than his sniper's. The Firepuncher rifle itself is in Wrecker's grasp, as the cable- Tech's literal lifeline- is still connected to it.
"Hey, bud, how you doing?" Wrecker greets when there's only a few feet of cable left between them.
"I have been better." He replies, breathless between the exhaustion, pain, and loss of blood.
"Not that I don't appreciate hearing your voices, but just get him up here already." Crosshair advises. His voice is as detached as usual, now that Tech's nearly safer- because there is no way to be truly safe in the heat of battle- once again.
In no more than a moment, Wrecker's heaving Tech up onto land- solid land, he thinks in relief- and is carefully removing the claw from his pauldron. He can't help but to sink to the snow in relief, doubting the stability of his knees anyway.
"Aren't you cold down there?"
"I will worry about that later."
They quickly find that the claw is stuck in the armor, and Tech resolves to simply taking the pauldron off. His wounded shoulder doesn't appreciate the blast of frosty air, and he's reminded again of the rising chances of hypothermia and frostbite. He casts the thought aside- there's a battle raging on mere yards from him.
"Crosshair." Wrecker calls the sniper's attention as he retracts the cable- they hadn't used it before because of his injuries and the risk of dislodging the claw if he hit the side of the cliff too hard. He tosses the weapon over to him.
Crosshair has to drop Wrecker's huge gun to catch his own, and it lands on his foot. He hisses, pulls his foot free, and replaces the giant at Tech's side.
Wrecker retrieves his own gun and rushes off to take his place at Hunter's side, beginning to lure the droids away and head off to the source to take it out as planned.
"Kriff, your shoulder's bad." Crosshair swears, dragging him a few feet further away from the cliff, reasonably uneasy about being so near to it. "You alright?"
"I just need a moment to regain my bearings." He pants, giving a small nod that sends the planet spinning around him again. He gasps in surprise as his head plunges into the snow.
"Right." Crosshair mutters, snorting. "Guess that means you're down then."
He shoots up so fast that he's almost nauseous. "No- a bacta injection and a stimulant should suffice for the time being."
"You got some?" The sniper asks skeptically.
"In my pack." Tech confirms, carefully shrugging it off.
When he hears it plop down in the snow, he realizes how distant the sounds of battle already are. He wonders how Hunter and Wrecker are holding out without them.
"Quit worrying- they're fine." Crosshair growls, pulling out the medkit and lifting off Tech's helmet. "Your skin's too pale. Losing too much blood."
"I am sure it is not that bad." He murmurs in response, his voice much weaker without the voice modulator strengthening it. He frowns at that.
"I'm taking you back to the ship." His brother decides.
"There is no time for that. Hunter and Wrecker are fighting an army, Crosshair. They will not succeed without our help." He knows that Crosshair's blaming himself, at least for his shoulder- but the mission must come first. He wills his brother to understand. I do not blame you.
"Fine, but I'm wrapping that up. And if you die, I'm going to kill you."
"Reasonable."
"Just do me a favor and stay close, will you?" It's more of an order than a request.
Tech nods. "That would be wise."
Ilum isn't lost. Not this time.
Somehow, they all make it out alive.
But the others do their best to never leave Tech alone on a mission again.