Alone
It seemed to take an age before Ace finally felt warm again after eating his frozen ration. Long enough that he could already start feeling himself get hungry again. He was in no rush to take off his helmet again for a bite to eat, however.
He hoped that sleeping would help take his mind off it. With his suit temperature stabilized, he was no longer in danger of getting hypothermia while he slept. Even Champ's vitals seemed to have stabilized- albeit weakly.
As soon as Ace shut his eyes, he felt certain that Gavyn was sitting with him at that moment in the speeder. The sensation took him by surprise, and Ace quickly looked around. There was nothing, and he remembered that it was probably Gavyn reaching out through the Force. He could feel the joy bubbling inside of him. His Jedi was looking for him. He wasn't going to die trapped in this speeder after all.
Suddenly, Ace heard movement above them. That must be the rescue party! He jumped to his feet. "Hey! We're down here!" He called out. The movement grew louder, and turned to scraping as it hit the top of the speeder. Ace slapped the metal speeder back. "I thought you'd never make it!" He cried out. Gavyn was probably just on the other side of the wall. That was why it felt like he was so close.
Ace didn't hear a yell back, however. Instead, he heard a mechanical whirring. Like a charging blaster. "Gav?" He asked hesitantly. They were going to blow the wall apart. Ace dove for cover behind the passenger seat as the roof of their shelter split open in a flash of red blaster fire.
Flipping onto his back, Ace searched the smoke. He caught a glimpse of a clawed mechanical arm. Probe droid. It dipped inside the speeder, swiveling it's rounded head. Ace gritted his teeth and lunged at it. The probe droid was nearly the size of him, and he managed to grab two of the claws and swing it into the wall.
The noise caught the attention of two more, which started firing from the outside of the speeder. Ace rolled over the struggling droid, holding it between him and the roof spraying sparks and debris in all directions. He wrestled the blaster mechanism on the droid to point through the hole in the roof. Expertly, he fired the blaster and shot down each droid cleanly.
Ace smirked, even with a weapon that was fighting back, a clone was taught never to miss. As for the droid struggling on top of him, Ace ripped out the power unit, disabling the droid with a low whir.
He and Champ were both still in one piece, but their shelter was now far from it. Ace pushed the limp droid off his chest and stood up. The air was completely frigid, powdery snow already piling on the floor. He jumped up and grabbed the torn edge of the speeder wall and pulled himself up into the snow. The two droids lay nearby, still smoking. He wasn't sure if they'd help a rescue team find them, or just help more droids find them.
Figuring that the droids probably had a chance to transmit their location anyway, Ace stacked up the droids on top of one another. It was clearly not random chance, and hopefully would serve as a marker- until the snow piled up around it at least.
Dropping back down into the speeder, Ace's HUD read no difference in temperature. There was already almost ankle-deep snow that had fallen in from the gaping hole in the roof. Their shelter was compromised beyond repair. Sure, the warmth in the power suits would keep them comfortable, but warming up against this kind of cold was going to tax their energy resources.
Ace considered that maybe he should have eaten another ration cube when he had a chance.
The day wore on and the hours slipped by. What had it been? Twelve? Fourteen? More now? Tyro could have checked if he wanted to but he only knew that would make it feel longer, make him calculate in his head the percent chance of finding Champ and Ace still alive. There was nothing that information would bring him aside from anxiety and restlessness; when it was useful, that was when he would look again.
The weather too had let up enough to be boring, flakes of snow floating downwards as opposed to their previous horizontal trajectory, and enough to show that the sun was growing low on the horizon. And so it remained, boring, and yet tense. An exercise in active waiting.
Mostly at this point Tyro was hungry. It had after all been that ten, twelve, or whatever hours since the hurried breakfast he had scarfed down this morning. Mind now on the subject of food he looked around in hopes that perhaps someone seemed to be thinking the same thing. The faces around him showed nothing but discipline.
Tyro realized he was at a loss. Normally he just scrounged up his own food, but he wasn't sure what they had here, or where, or what the rules for consuming it were. If Gavyn were here he would have just bothered him, but he couldn't imagine telling the others he was hungry. To make it worse, he was the one more or less in charge here. In this case he wasn't sure what that meant, other than that begging for food was probably not an ideal leadership tactic.
Perhaps it meant he was the one who was supposed to call mealtime then? Perhaps stuff only happened when he said it was supposed to or...something? Though that would be exceptionally presumptuous. Deciding he was unable to make a good decision on this he decided to not decide.
Another hour passed. Feeling hungry turned into feeling sick. He shifted his position uncomfortably in his chair. It didn't help. He tried again to no avail. Unable to take it anymore he decided he needed to say something. He debated how to start the conversation, trying multiple lines in his head before finally deciding on a desperate and thinly veiled, "Is anybody else hungry?"
"Starving," came the almost immediate reply for Tar.
"Yeah, It's been thirteen hours, I could use something," agreed Sparks.
"Well, we have rationed for it," conceded Stitch. "Mostly it will be important that we are ready as soon as we need to be. Seems like it's time to grab a bite then."
"So what have we got?"
"Dry rats," announced Splinter, fishing a pack of something from the supply cabinet.
"Wait what?" Tyro asked quickly, trying to not be revolted as he strained around in his seat to get a look at what horrible thing Splinter might be holding. It couldn't be rats, as in the nasty creatures, that didn't make sense, but then again, who was he to say?
"Dry Rations," Corrected Stitch.
To Tyro's, perhaps he could call it relief, Splinter instead started passing out what looked to be dull, colorless, and way too small cubes.
"Cheers to the Republic," Tracks sighed, popping his in his mouth whole. The others had similarly dutiful if not resigned looks as they chewed, nibbled, and otherwise found whatever method of savoring the sad meal, or simply getting it over with.
Tyro stared at the pathetic cube. The thing was probably engineered to be ridiculously healthy. Even Jedi had their rations, but this seemed to be the extreme version of that. It was only his hunger that made him question it no further as the took a bite, wondering how this small a thing could possibly be enough to tide him over.
It took all his years of Jedi training to not spit the thing out. "Oi! That's revolting!"
He heard a snicker behind him as Tar struggled to contain his laughter.
"They're engineered to contain the exact nutrients the body needs to survive," Stitch explained calmly.
"Yeah, I get that," Tyro sighed. "It's just...unfortunate." The comment was met with another dark laugh from Tar.
"Commander's got a point though," Tracks grumbled. "But you won't be finding anything else out here, so eat up."
Tyro decided Tracks had the right idea about this whole thing and shoved the rest of it in his mouth, chewing quickly and promptly washing it down with a swig of water.
"All the more reason to find them soon so we can all get back and have a proper meal," added Tracks.
Tyro nodded in agreement.
The meal had made him consider their other basic needs too however. If they didn't find Ace and Champ soon they were going to start needing some sleep. "So, about resting, do we take shifts?"
"Thought you were never going to ask!" Roller called out from the front.
"Yes," agreed Stitch. "Shifts is correct. Feeling tired, Commander?"
Tyro quickly considered his answer. Yes, after how little sleep he had had last night, how early he had woken up, and how the day had been going, he was tired. but he was also supposed to be the one in charge here. He couldn't fall asleep like some youngling in the back of a speeder. What if something came up? What if something happened that only he could respond to, or worse, that he didn't sense or do something about in time because he was asleep?
"Uh no," he lied. "I'm good." Well it wasn't entirely a lie. He could hold out, and he had pulled plenty of all-nighters before. Besides, it wasn't even close to that point yet. "Roller sounds like he needs a break though."
"I should probably take one now too," Stitch added.
"And if you're staying awake then," Tracks added to Tyro, "I'll let you watch the navscreen while I get some shuteye. You seem to have figured it out." Tracks seemed like the kind of person who took what he could get when he could get it.
"So I guess you three are first shift then?" asked Tyro.
"I'll pilot for now then," volunteered Sparks.
There was a moment of shuffling about as everyone found their new positions. Tar hopped up into the seat next to Tyro while Splinter took a seat next to Sparks in the front.
"Sweet dreams," Tar teased.
"Aw shut it," Roller spat back, throwing his helmet at Tar.
It was never easy to tell what time it was in space, but a spell of drowsiness told Gavyn that it was getting pretty late. The meeting with the Jedi Council dragged on. It was a massive strategy meeting, going over the victories and losses across the galaxy in the past month. About how to consolidate and redistribute resources where they were most advantageous. There were arguments after argument over which systems to pull troops from. They were not easy choices to make, and the time spent deliberating was justified. As tedious as the politics of it were, Gavyn was glad that he had an opportunity to chime in when he could. As an infantry general, he was one of the few who saw firsthand the plights of civilians and troops alike. He had never been a bright strategist, but he knew reality. That counted for something among the councilors.
Gavyn wandered to the hangar. The crowds repairing the ship on the way seemed to have thinned out a bit. The major work shift must have been over. He caught the attention of the pilots that flew him up, Banks. "Any chance we can make it back down tonight?" Gavyn asked.
"Afraid not, sir." He replied. "Camp is in the dark for another eight hours. It would be too dangerous to fly down in the weather like that until it is optimal."
Gavyn nodded, mouth twisted in disappointment. "Thanks, Banks. Don't forget to get some shuteye." The jedi told him.
"You too, sir." The clone noted. After hardly sleeping the night before, the wear was starting to show on Gavyn's face.
Gavyn made his way through the boarded-up hallways until he found his quarters. He took the opportunity to find and set out a fresh set of robes for the morning before collapsing into his bed. The familiarity of it only made it lonelier. Gavyn could smell Ace on the sheets, and when he closed his eyes, could imagine him standing by the washbasin, about to crawl in next to him.
Without warning, Gavyn cried. He had managed to keep himself together during the day, but with nobody watching and nobody to impress, he couldn't stop himself. This comfortable bed, and this safe ship were his prison while Ace was lost and Tyro was putting his life on the line trying to find him. Every fiber of him told Gavyn that it was wrong, and he should be on the ground and helping that very moment, but his duty was here. Nothing he could do about it.
Memories drifted through his head like ghosts, haunting the night. Although his body was physically and emotionally exhausted, no sleep came to him that night. His thoughts were with Ace and Tyro, far away, lost in an endless torrent of snow.