#18 A Bad Day Gets Worse
Before the last of the debris had stopped falling from the crumbling buildings, Rex was already sprinting out to meet the advancing droids. Only a moment behind was Coric, followed closely by the wounded trooper. It took Goose a few moments longer to stagger to her feet, but once she regained her balance she cautiously followed where they'd gone. Her first priority was to locate anyone injured in the blast. Apart from that, she didn't have the faintest idea of what to do next. Battle was not her strong suit.
Not far from her, a trooper lay on the ground, clearly wounded, and writhing in pain. Other medics were too busy dealing with their own issues, and could not get to him. She was his only chance, and yet…the risk was immense. Rank upon rank of battle droids was descending on their position, and, caught off guard, the troopers were desperately fighting back. Blasts from their own heavy cannons were echoed by volleys from enemy tanks. Blaster bolts from both sides streaked past her, seeking their targets. If she tried to go help that trooper, there was a very sizable chance she'd end up killed in the crossfire before she made it two steps.
Her heart leapt into her mouth, and her stomach knotted in fear despite her attempts to take deep breaths. She couldn't just leave him there, it was her responsibility to save his life. It was the only reason she was there, really. Goose took a shuddery breath and tried to quickly think of a good way to stay alive. If she ducked down and ran for her life, she might just make it. But she dithered for a moment, knees shaking as the adrenaline shot through her. She was a doctor, not a soldier. This was insane. She belonged in the safety of a medbay, not in the danger and chaos of battle. That first day on Christophsis had been dangerous, yes, but at least then she hadn't actually seen the fighting. This was different.
Muttering a string of curses, she finally resolved to take her chances and just go. Keeping her head down, Goose dashed out from the relative safety of the sidelines, tripping slightly on some rubble as she went. In panic, she dove to the ground and slid the rest of the way, a stray blaster bolt narrowly missing her flailing legs. She was sure that idiotic stunt would leave her with some bruises, but at least she had made it. Grabbing him by the ankles, she dragged the wounded trooper, trailing blood behind him, into better cover behind a heap of debris and started to assess his injuries.
He was only semiconscious, and murmured incoherently as she pulled him closer to her with a grunt. The trooper's left arm was all but gone, blown off on impact. Shrapnel studded his torso, but it did not appear that much of it had penetrated the armor, for once. Working feverishly, Goose tied a tourniquet to the stump of his arm in a bid to stop the bleeding, then started to empty her pockets in search of something useful. She didn't have a medkit with her, but over the past couple of days she had accumulated bandages and packets of gauze.
Desperately, she packed as much gauze as she could find into the stump, tying everything down with bandages. She rummaged around his personal medpack next, giving him a hypo of morphine as soon as she found it. Goose wanted to cauterize the stump, which would at least stop the bleeding, and do more to try and save the nerves. If she managed to pull him through this, it was possible he could receive a cybernetic arm as a replacement. However, that option would go out the airlock of his nerve endings were too badly damaged.
Goose felt for his pulse, and grumbled with frustration at how weak it was. For just a few moments, she was so absorbed with that trooper that the rest of the battle melted away and she nearly forgot about it. Then a massive blasted erupted not far from where she knelt, perhaps only ten feet, and showered bits of pavement and clods of dirt all over her and her patient. That was far too close for comfort. Her heart resumed its erratic pounding in her chest, and once more adrenaline coursed through her. She needed to hurry up.
There was nothing more she could possibly do for his arm, because she lacked both the equipment and the luxury of time to care for it properly. She moved on to his chest, which was peppered with shrapnel, and decided the only thing for her to do was to take off his chestplate and see what damage there was. As she struggled to unclasp the armor, Goose became increasingly aware of how tenuous her position was. She could be overrun by droids any minute. Her field of vision was limited by the rubble heap she was taking refuge behind, and she hadn't the slightest clue whether or not they were winning.
She suddenly became aware of a new sound from the battlefield, in the direction of the advancing droids. It was a loud metallic shriek, as if of metal grinding on metal, accompanied by the high-pitched whine of something reminiscent of a laser canon. Overcome by curiosity and no small amount of trepidation, Goose chanced a peek at whatever it was that she was hearing. She immediately regretted it. Three towering Octuptarra tri-droids lumbered into view, monstrous automatons with a trio of laser cannons rotating on their bulbous heads.
Although she recoiled in fear, Goose was unable to look away. Where had those things come from? With their strange, insect-like legs they advanced on the clones holding the line. It was unnerving to watch them as they lurched almost drunkenly at them with a disconcerting three-legged gait. She saw a few blaster bolts bounce off the armored shell of one as if the shots had been pebbles rather than lasers. If even a direct hit could not penetrate that armor, how could they ever hope of bringing down such a monster? And there were three of them.
Above the din of the battle, the order of attack faintly reached her ears. The line of clone troopers rose up to charge, and even as she watched a bolt from a tri-droids turret smashed into a trooper's head, easily lifting him five feet in the air as if he was a rag doll. His helmet shattered in the blast, and she watched helplessly as his jaw was torn off, fluttering through the air like a wounded bird, trailing blood. The trooper's lifeless body thumped to the ground, and even from five yards away she could see clearly the ruined, gaping hole that was left of his face. Seemingly unaware, his comrades climbed over his body and continued the assault.
"Oh, kark," she gasped.
Goose felt her stomach knot, and bile rose up her throat. Somehow, perhaps through sheer willpower alone, she mastered her bowels and managed not to vomit. But the troops were charging the droids now, and that meant casualties. Lots of them. Working quickly, she finally pried off the trooper's chestplate, and was relieved to see the damage there was no more than superficial. At this point, there was not much more she could do, and had to go see if there were others she could help. In case anyone else came across him, she scribbled his current pulse and dosage of morphine on his helmet with a marker, which had stated to wear out after so much use.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Goose prepared to go search for other wounded men. It seemed the fighting was now close-quarters, and she shuddered as she watched a trooper punch a droid's faceplate. That would accomplish nothing more than breaking all the little bones in his hand. She wanted to help as soon as she could, but it was still extremely dangerous. There was the possibility the droid forces would be so preoccupied with the clones that she could move around relatively safely, but she did not want to test that theory.
Keeping low to the ground, Goose darted from cover and sprinted over to the next wounded man she saw. He'd been shot in the leg, but was otherwise all right. While she set about bandaging the wound, she happened to glance up and see Skywalker balanced precariously on a tri-droid's head, glowing blue lightsaber plunged into its carapace. She wished him good luck. Not long later, the massive droid fell to the ground with a massive crash. The other two soon followed suit.
At first she had only believed herself to be imagining it, but after a while it became clear that the sound of blasterfire was more and more erratic. Risking another glance, Goose poked her head up in time to see a few tanks and the end of the droid column become engulfed in flames and blasted to bits by the Republic's heavy cannons. She breathed out a long sigh once she saw the remaining droids start to turn back. For some reason, they'd given up.
But that mattered little to her. Finished with the trooper's leg, Goose started to pick through the rubble, limbs tingling somewhat from the aftereffects of the adrenaline. The shooting had stopped, and the cannons subsided. As if to seal their victory, a Republic supply shuttle glided down from the sky like a blessing to land just behind the front line. It was the most welcome sight in the galaxy to her weary eyes, and she silently rejoiced. The Resolute must have returned from resupplying, carrying with it the reinforcements and supplies they desperately needed. She hoped more shuttles would arrive soon.
Moving through the rubble in a daze, Goose skirted around craters in the street, searching for wounded troopers. She had survived that, somehow. But she wasn't sure just how much more of this the Republic could take. As if they were suddenly released from a trance, the troopers around her started to do the same, helping their wounded comrades. Upon finding another wounded trooper, this one quite badly injured, she called for a stretcher. Then she got down to business.