Naked Clones in the Jungle
Part II
"No!" Barriss cried out again, sinking to her knees. She placed one hand on his bare chest, directly over his heart, and another over his chest wound.
Most of the men just watched her, completely silent. But two of the clones, Tag and Sabre, squeezed out between the hole in the bars, and began gathering up weapons from the downed droids. Arms full, they squeezed back into the enclosure and distributed the weapons amongst their brothers. They worked completely silently, not wanting to disturb whatever it was the Jedi was doing to their fallen Commander.
Barriss closed her eyes and focused.
It was then that she felt it. Faint, but still there.
She moved both hands over the wound now, and focused her energies, deeply and rhythmically. She kept searching deeper and deeper, for that little bit of life force she had felt… the tiny spark trying to draw it out.
"What is she doing?" one of the men whispered.
"Jedi Healing," Bryce responded, then shushed him.
All of the men watched in silence, waiting for their fierce padawan to perform a miracle in front of their eyes.
Gree felt himself drifting further and further away. It felt good to finally rest.
He heard a voice calling out to him. The voice was familiar, and he felt drawn to it. He sensed he'd need to wake up to respond to the voice. Reluctant as he was to give up all this good, comforting sleep, which he felt he'd rightly earned, he couldn't resist the call of that voice.
It was that same cool voice that had called to him earlier… the one that parched his thirst. It was the same voice that always mended his pains each time he was in the infirmary. He instinctively trusted that voice, and moved toward it now. It was the voice of healing, and light. This was a different kind of light than the blinding sun which had cruelly burnt his skin for the past many days. This was the type of light that kept the galaxy from falling into dark days.
Gree's eyes snapped open suddenly, causing the men surrounding him to let out a collective gasp of surprise. The red-haired clone took a deep, shuddering breath, and then began to cough. The action caused his chest to tighten painfully, but he ignored it.
Pushing through his discomfort, he forced himself up on his elbows, "Sitrep?" he demanded. A wave of pain hit him, along with a fit of dry coughing. He clutched an arm over his chest, and groaned.
"Commander, you need to take it easy."
"Barriss Offee," Gree breathed the words out, as if those two simple words could explain everything.
He tried to push himself to a sitting position, but only made it hallway. He hissed in pain, his face tightening up.
Barriss was instantly by his side, "You're not fully healed. Go slowly." She took in the state of his skin, and sighed, "And, you have other injuries, as well."
Gree shook his head dismissively, then scanned the area around them, taking in the sight of all the downed droids. He scanned the encampment, looking for signs of fresh enemies approaching. He must have seen something that put him on alert, because he frowned and said: "We need to get out of here."
As he took in the sight of the men arming themselves, he nodded with satisfaction, "Tag, Sabre, good work."
Barriss turned and saw two of the sunburnt clones grinning as they passed the weapons around.
"Aw, you know us heavy infantry guys, sir," said one of the clones, stepping forward and handing one of the blasters to Gree. "Always first ones to the weaponry."
Gree nodded, "Thank you, Sabre." The clone commander automatically went to tuck the blaster into his belt. He glanced down at his bared skin, and then growled out, "Let's get out of here… with our kit, if possible."
Barriss stared out toward the encampment thoughtfully, "I saw what looks like a storeroom on the way in."
"Lead the way," Gree said, gruffly, his voice still hoarse. As he struggled to rise, Tag and Sabre stepped in to help him up. He nodded his thanks.
"Aw, no more heavy than trying to maneuver around an AV-7," commented Tag, cheerfully, as helped the Commander along.
Gree glanced back and forth between the two heavy gunners who were supporting him. Tag and Sabre. Ah, yes. The most cheerful pair of heavy gunners in the entire 41st Elite. The two clones continued to support him as the exited their prison of the past several days.
Barriss led the group, lightsaber in hand, but they met no resistance. She slashed through the lock of what looked to be a storeroom, but found only droid parts. They quickly searched several other rooms, but found no signs of their wayward gear. Their search was cut short by the telltale sound of metallic marching feet.
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