By this time, Jac had very nearly forgotten Bristler's transgression this morning. Even if he had not, his options were limited when it came to picking clones to accompany him. Whatever his faults, Bristler was exceptionally well-suited to close combat, which seemed a very likely possibility.
Jac chose Bristler, Dusty and three others. He knew that, when it came to ambush scenarios, numbers often did more harm than good. Too many clones all yelling and shooting at the same time equaled nothing but chaos. Best to keep the numbers down and their orders strict.
He put Dusty on point. He would have taken it himself, but knew that, without him, these kids would probably lose all cohesion. That's why you needed a commander, if not in rank, certainly in station. Having seniority on this lot, Jac was understandably in charge. His experience was what would keep them alive in a hairy situation.
Jac admonished Dusty not to forget to keep an eye on the trees overhead. He couldn't recall a time when a Eglamork had been spotted on the ground. Almost always they were hanging from tree limbs. But, on the other hand, Jac had never seen one go on the offensive. It was possible they attacked from the ground. As they were winged beasts without legs, this seemed an unlikely strategy.
Traveling swiftly, without beating the bushes, they soon found where the squad had been attacked. A swift count of the bodies revealed that there were two still alive, or that had been alive long enough to leave the scene of the massacre. It hadn't been a battle, not really.
"Looks like they headed off this way," Dusty said, spotting boot marks in the mud.
"We'll head out after them," Jac decided "be careful, there may still be enemy forces in the area,"
Though they had run across some recently blasted droids, they knew that Jac was not speaking of Separatist troops. He was talking about Eglamorks. The search party moved on. But Jac hung back, taking a last look at the scene.
He was about to go on when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. At first he thought one of the troopers was still alive, but he soon realized that there was something underneath the dead clone. Shifting the body aside with the muzzle of his rifle, Jac found himself face to face with an Eglamork.
He raised his blaster to fire, but hesitated. The small creature looked stricken, one of its wings looked as though it had been just about ripped off. This little one had bitten off more than it could chew. Truly, it had killed its adversary but, in so doing, it had doomed itself.
Even so, it opened its alarmingly large mouth. Jac realized that the lower jaw could unhinge and allowed the killer venom fangs to snap forward into a biting position. The Eglamork writhed on the ground and hissed, but it couldn't fly at its hated enemy.
"You're a brave one, aren't you," Jac observed dispassionately.
Born and bred for a single purpose, Jac had never thought to show mercy to man or beast. His job was to kill the enemy, plain and simple. But time had made him wise, and he knew the real objective was, in the end, to preserve life. In a strange way, all the killing was really about saving lives. This creature could do him no harm, but it might yet save his brothers.
If an anti-venom could be produced and gotten to stricken troopers before they died, it could be an invaluable means of defending themselves. But, more importantly, a surviving member of the enemy in their midst might teach them something of the habits and form of communication used by the creatures.
Carefully, Jac pinned the creature's head with his rifle and picked it up by the neck with his free hand. Immediately, its tail wrapped around his arm, seeming almost reflexive in its action. It wasn't powerful enough to do any harm.
"This will be interesting," Jac said, awkwardly slinging his rifle over his shoulder and then pulling out a smaller, one-handed version of it.
"What the hell are you doing with that?," Bristler asked when Jac had caught up with the others.
"Whatever I damn well please," Jac replied, in no mood to explain himself.
At sight of Bristler, the captured Eglamork folded out a frill of bright green skin that sat just behind its head and hissed fearfully, its large eyes seeming even bigger than they really were.
"I don't think it likes you, Bristler," commented one of the others, chuckling.
"The feeling is mutual," Bristler sulked.
A mile farther on, they found the survivors. And the female Eglamork. While her cohorts had been more than happy to execute a sudden ambush, pursuit was not in their line of interest. Their energy was best saved for things they could actually eat. Coming upon unsuspecting clones was one thing, chasing them a very different thing. But the she-Eglamork with the blood-red wings was intent upon leaving no survivors. That is, until a flavor in the air told her of the approach of the one whom she hated most.
A moment later, the search party found the survivors, one of whom was standing very still in an attempt to avoid provoking the Eglamork which was draped around his neck. His relief at seeing Jac was palpable. While this particular rookie, like the others, had been inclined to give Jac a hard time, now he was in the thick of things he couldn't help but look to one with more experience than he.
"Don't move," Jac advised, then added to those he'd brought with him "hold your fire,"
This was an important command. For, while they didn't intend to fire yet, they wouldn't hesitate if the Eglamork bit or moved away from their brother. Jac didn't want that. He'd seen enough to know that the problem didn't lie with one rogue Eglamork. The creatures, however primitive, were attempting to eradicate the intruders, waiting for their chance to spring an ambush and leaving no survivors.
The captured Eglamork squeaked at sight of another of its kind, perhaps calling for help. The she-Eglamork raised her broad, flat head and flicked out her tongue. Then she hissed and parted her jaws. In an instant, the killing fangs had snapped into place. But she didn't strike, instead hovering where she was, a large eye turned in Jac's direction.
"Jac...," Bristler growled tensely, every instinct screaming that he should fire, fire now, before the beast had a chance to bite. He might yet save his brother.
But Jac was keenly aware of the fact that there was much more at stake. He wanted that Eglamork alive, but he couldn't figure out how to manage it.
"Hold," he insisted, eyes on the creature, which spread its wings, perhaps trying to look menacing.
The one in his hand was beginning to struggle, twisting and writhing about his arm, trying to break free of his careful, but firm, grasp. It squeaked more insistently now, and the other responded to its cries. Her head bobbed up and down rapidly, threatening to strike, but never quite doing it.
The clone upon which she sat was beginning to tremble from having stood perfectly still for a long time. His movement seemed to irritate the creature, who hissed at him and struck at his helmet. Her fangs raked down the visor, but didn't pierce it, leaving only scratches on the armor and no damage to the trooper inside.
Bristler raised his rifle, but Jac used his free hand to stay him, grasping the muzzle and pointing it down firmly, sparing only a momentary glance at the kid.
"That thing is going to kill him, and you want us to stand by and watch!," Bristler snarled.
At sound of his voice, the she-Eglamork raised her head and swung to face him. Her frill, not unlike that of the other, only blue, spread about her head and her eyes seemed to flash. The red wings flapped and her mouth opened wider. Suddenly, she sprang at him, mouth agape.
She moved faster than the eye could track. Shots were fired, but missed. She was brought up short of her target by something blocking her way. Her fangs buried themselves in shoulder armor, their tips just barely cutting into skin. She had gotten Jac, who dropped to one knee when she hit him.
Though the clones didn't know it, the startled Eglamork had not injected her venom. Her bite was designed in such a way that she had to actually release the poison. Striking sooner than she meant to, against something she had not intended to hit had caused her to instinctively withhold her poison. She now slithered to the ground, shielded from the clones by Jac's body.
The survivors of the ambushed squad almost had a clear shot at her, but she slithered up onto one of Jac's boots, knowing somehow that the clones wouldn't risk hurting him. Perhaps she had noticed that no shots were fired while she perched on one of the clones.
"I said hold your fire!," Jac spat.
His mind had finally connected the dots. While he couldn't know that this Eglamork was the same one Bristler had kicked, he did now recall the incident this morning. His mind had quickly concluded that the Eglamork had a special reason for hating Bristler, otherwise it would have bitten the clone upon which it sat. It wouldn't have picked a distant target when there was one close by. That was poor strategy, something the Eglamorks had not shown thus far.
"How long does it take the venom to take effect?," Jac asked of the survivors.
"Seconds, I think," one answered "but it doesn't kill right away,"
"That's what I thought," Jac replied "I'm not feelin' it,"
"What?," Bristler demanded "what do you mean?,"
"I mean I haven't been poisoned," Jac said irritably.
"But the snake bit you," Bristler protested.
"Take these kids home," Jac ordered, ignoring him "that's right, the lot of you. Head back,"
"But what about you?," asked one of the survivors.
"That's none of your concern. Move along,"
Obediently, if reluctantly, the youngsters moved off, leaving Jac alone with two Eglamork.
"Flying Death, eh?," he said, addressing the creature on his boot "now I know why,"
She looked past his eyes, to the creature he still held captive. He looked in its direction. It was quiet now, wide eyed and panting, but no longer fighting.
"If I let you go, you promise not to bite me," Jac said.
He didn't expect it to understand, but he put it down anyway, carefully aiming its head away from himself, and also careful to keep his movements slow so as not to provoke the snake sitting on him. The smaller Eglamork slithered free with a hiss, and turned to face him. But it couldn't fly at him, not even if it wanted to.
"I don't know if you can survive with that wing," Jac told the creature as it coiled up to keep an eye on him "but I'm afraid I can't help you with that. You'd bite me,"
The she-Eglamork slithered off his boot and joined the other, flicking her tongue rapidly over the smaller creature's head, as if to assure herself that this was who she thought it was.
"I do have a med-kit, but I doubt you'd let me help," Jac said, easing into a sitting position and pulling out the med-kit.
It was not kindness that drove his actions or, anyway, he told himself it wasn't. But improving relations with these dangerous animals was the only way he was going to protect his men.
To his surprise, the injured creature slithered into reach and presented its side, its enormous eyes calm, but wary. Jac quickly patched the broken wing as best he was able, and the creature slipped away to rejoin the she-Eglamork.
"Now, I want no more trouble with you," Jac said firmly, knowing full well the creatures couldn't understand his words, but hoping they could infer his meaning "I'll keep my men in line, and you keep to yourselves. We don't want to be here, but we've got orders to stay. So, if you keep on killing us, I'll have to do something about it. Nobody wants that,"
The creatures sat looking at him, gazing with wide, intelligent eyes. Intelligent enough, hopefully, to realize that there actions were unacceptable, and must come to an end. Hopefully, they could see that Jac was in charge of these men, and that he didn't want them to harm the Eglamorks.
That was a lot to ask of mere snakes, but all he could do was hope.
"Well, I'd best be getting back, before they send a search party out to look for me,"
He rose and walked away, without once glancing back to see if the snakes were following. He was confident that they would not attack him. At least, not right now.