Dear Reader, a repost with some corrections. A little bit of gruesomeness here, but not too bad. Enjoy! CS
Chapter 8 Trees in the Desert
"In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they're still beautiful."
Alice Walker
"Captain. Captain! Rex!"
Someone was definitely calling his name – and with great urgency.
"I hear you. I hear you. Just . . . give me a second." Rex wasn't sure if he'd spoken out loud or not. His thoughts were jumbled, and a persistent ache nagged at his right shoulder. For a moment, he was back on Pylotta, hunkered down in the death pit with two injured men to care for—
Two injured men. Two injured men.
That thought was the jolt that opened his eyes. He was not in the pit.
He was lying on the ground. The ship had crashed. He was still alive.
He was not looking through the filmy visor of his helmet, but rather the unfiltered view of unaided vision. Sixer, one of his 501st troopers, was looking down at him with a combination of worry and determination. As he tried to sit up, the pain in his shoulder cascaded down his side, and he drew in a sharp breath.
Sixer helped him sit up. "Where are you injured, Sir?"
Rex, seeing the wreckage around him, and now with the details of what had happened flooding back into his awareness, forgot about the pain. He scrambled to his feet, shrugging off Sixer's attempt at assistance. "What about the others? What are our casualties?"
"We just started looking, Captain," Sixer replied. "It's only been a few minutes since we came down."
"A few minutes? Then I wasn't out for very long," Rex half stated, half questioned.
"No, Sir. Sempe and I pulled you out of the wreckage. Sempe's gone back to look for the others. We were afraid the ship might explode—"
"There won't be any explosions."
Rex and Sixer turned towards the speaker. It was Zinger. He was limping across the disturbed sand, and bright red blood traced a thin line from his cheek down his jaw and neck. As he drew nearer, he continued speaking. "Three Point jettisoned the fuel tanks before we landed."
"Smart man," Rex nodded.
"Where is Three Point?" Sixer asked, and in his tone, it was clear that he feared the worst.
"He and Moog are with Little Ride," Zinger reported. "He got pretty banged up."
"Is he going to be okay?" Rex asked.
"I don't know," Zinger answered honestly. "He was unconscious when I left."
"What about you?" Sixer asked. "You've got a lot of blood coming from that laceration."
"Huh, I'll take it," Zinger dismissed. "You should see my helmet. Wheel broke loose and cracked it right down the middle. That would've been my head otherwise, so this little knick doesn't bother me at all."
"What about your leg? You're limping."
"It's not bad. Pulled muscle, maybe. I can help you look for the others," Zinger insisted. Then, he nodded towards the other half of the broken ship, "There's Commander Cody."
Cody was pulling himself up over the top of a great crack in the fuselage, and once on top, he turned and reached down to pull up Double Barrel (or DB for short) and Ajax, both 501st soldiers, both of whom appeared to be uninjured.
Rex directed Zinger and Sixer to go help Cody while he went to the other part of the wreckage. It appeared that the ship had torn in half between the first and second bulkheads, and there were pieces of debris scattered over a narrow swath between the two parts. The first thing Rex noticed as he headed for the front half of the ship was that, powers be praised, there were no bodies or body parts in the open space between the pieces. That didn't mean no deaths, but it gave him some small inkling of hope.
He was able to enter the crumpled remains of the front half through the tear line, and here he immediately came upon Slip, Gernot, and Bounce, the first two being his own men, Bounce one of Cody's. They were climbing up through the collapsed support struts that had somehow pushed up through the metal floor from the lower cargo hold. Rex helped pull them out the last few steps, noting what injuries he could see but grateful that they were alive and apparently not seriously hurt.
"Is anyone else down there?"
"Pitch and Tip are helping Puzzle. Looks like a broken leg," Slip replied. "We came up to see if there's anyone else we can help."
"What about Echo? Fives?"
"Fives is down there," Slip replied. "He was trying to get through the bulkhead to Echo and Kix. I don't think he was having any luck."
"We may have to go in through the bridge," Rex put forth. "This part of the ship is nearly folded in two. Look around. See if you can find another way in."
As the other three headed off on their task, Jesse and Hardcase approached from the other piece of the ship. They, too, looked as if they'd taken a beating but come out relatively unscathed.
Rex met them at the corner of the wreckage.
"Commander Cody sent us over here to help," Jesse announced. "He's got everything in hand over there."
"Any casualties?"
"None so far," the lieutenant replied. "But he's still looking. So far, we've accounted for 11 on that side." He began reciting names. "Including yourself, twelve."
Rex did a quick mental calculation. "That's 20. Only Kix and Echo are unaccounted for. Go see if you can help find a way in there. I'm going to see how Cody's doing."
"Yes, Sir."
Rex headed for the rear half of the ship. He climbed up on top and then jumped down into the labyrinth of warped and bent metal, utterly unrecognizable as what had once been part of the passenger bay and the rear cargo hold.
"Cody! Where are you?!" he called out.
"Wait! I'll send someone!" came the reply, and less than a minute later, Sempe appeared, peering up through a spiral of metal struts and beams.
"This way, captain."
Rex followed, carefully picking his way through sheered durasteel plates, shards of what had once been jumpseat supports, and a jungle of dangling cables and wires.
At length, they arrived in what was ostensibly the back portion of the passenger bay. And here, they found Cody and another 501st troop, March, tending to the final member of Rex's contingent, Keeper , who was sitting on the floor, complaining not so much about the pain but rather the fact that he had been the one to be injured. His right arm was clearly broken, and the right side of his chest plate was awash in blood. All the same, his demeanor was upbeat, and Rex wondered if maybe he wasn't slipping into shock.
"How's he doing?" Rex asked, hunkering down.
"He's a bit giddy. We shot him full of painkiller. We should be ready to move him in a few minutes," Cody replied. "Everyone else?"
"So far, everyone's accounted for except Kix and Echo," Rex replied. "I've got men trying to find them." A pause. "No fatalities . . . so far. We've got some injuries, but I'm not sure how severe yet. Everyone's been running around, and I haven't had a chance to take a look yet."
Cody looked up with something like disbelief in his eyes. "No fatalities?"
"Let's hope it stays that way," Rex replied.
No sooner had he finished speaking than his wrist comm buzzed.
"Captain Rex, this is Jesse. We need you to come over here. Quickly."
"What is it?" Rex inquired.
"We've found Kix and Echo. Sir, we need you over here. You'll have to come in through the bridge and down the ladder," Jesse repeated. He sounded more agitated than Rex had ever heard him before.
"I'm on my way," Rex acknowledged. He looked to Cody, who turned to March and Sempe.
"You two have it from here. I'll send a couple men back to help lift him out."
With that, both captain and commander headed for the other side of the wreckage.
They scurried up the side of the ship to the smashed windows of the flight deck and crawled inside. Here, much to Rex's relief, he saw Little Ride sitting up and speaking coherently, Moog's arm around his shoulders, steadying him.
"How is he?" he asked.
"He's going to be okay," Moog replied.
"Good, good," Rex said, the relief audible in his voice. "Stay with him." He and Cody continued through the bridge and then picked their way down what had once been the ladder leading to below decks. Now, it was like some crazy piece on an obstacle course. Once at the bottom, Rex called out.
"Jesse?! Hardcase?!"
"Back here, captain!"
Rex made his way through the wreckage, Cody fast on his heels.
They came to the barely recognizable area behind the first bulkhead that had served as the ship's small medical station. On one side, they saw Echo sitting on the floor, fully awake and alert, seemingly none the worse for the ordeal, Fives and Gernot beside him. On the opposite side, Jesse and Hardcase were kneeling down in front of Kix, who was sitting awkwardly against the crumpled outer wall. Right away, both officers noticed the pallor of the medic's face and what was clearly a tightly held attempt at self-control.
Rex dropped to one knee. "What is it?"
Kix lowered his eyes without moving his head and both Rex and Cody followed his gaze. In the small gap below his armor's breast plate, a blunt piece of metal was protruding.
If there was one thing Rex and Cody both had become skilled at, it was controlling any expression of shock or horror.
Jesse spoke quietly. "It's clear through. It's one of the metal supports from the jump seats. It must have gotten twisted up in the crash and bent away from the fuselage. It looks like the impact threw him right on top of it."
"Is it still attached to the wall?"
Jesse nodded.
"Where's a medi-scan?" Cody asked, motioning to Hardcase and Gernot to start looking.
Rex reached out and put his hand on Kix's shoulder. "Hang in there, Kix. We're going to take care of you."
"Y-you can't take-take it out," Kix gasped. "I'll bleed—to death."
The bluntness with which he said this made Rex's heart drop into his gut. "We're not going to let that happen."
"It has-has to stay in until we—we get to a med-medical fa-fa-" He couldn't finish and fell silent, his breathing shallow and labored.
"Don't try to speak anymore. Just take it easy," Rex said, and within him, the part of his soul that demanded every situation be solved, every wrong righted, and every bad turn made good, rose up and took over. He turned to Cody. "Can we cut it?"
"I'm sure we can," the commander replied. He turned to Jesse. "Find something to cut that with." The he raised his voice. "Slip!"
Slip came over. "Yes, Commander?"
"See if you can figure out where we are and get communications up. We need to see if we're in communications range with the fleet. We need to let them know what's happened." He lowered his voice. "He's going to need help right away."
"Yes, Sir."
After Slip had left, Cody spoke quietly to Rex. "Looks like we've got a big problem on our hands." And he wasn't referring only to Kix, but rather to the entire situation.
"We can handle it," Rex answered, and it was more than wishful thinking or insincere encouragement. Rex never gave up the fight. He had the utmost confidence in his men and in his own ability to lead them.
Hardcase returned with a medical scanner.
"I hope it works," he said, handing it over to Rex. "Everything is busted up."
Rex activated the scanner, wishing they had another medic with them, for his medical skills were nominal. But even with his limited knowledge, he knew he was looking at a grave situation. The metal support rod was two centimeters square, and it had done a good deal of damage passing through Kix's body.
The protruding front end was covered in blood and small bits of flesh. It wasn't an acute point but rather a dull end, and it was easy to see how it would have done significant harm.
"What—what is this?" Rex asked, looking at the fuzzy image on the scanner's screen.
"Kidney? Liver? I don't know," Hardcase replied, adding, "It looks like it went right through the intestines—"
"Show me," Kix strained.
Rex showed him the scan.
"Yeah . . . that's a mess." He seemed unwilling to comment any further, and his head drooped against his chest.
"What can we do?" Rex asked. "Is it safe to give you a painkiller? Or a—a sedative? What can we do, Kix?"
"Coagulant . . . low dose," came the mumbled response. "Pain hypo. No sedative." He swallowed. "Stay warm." After a brief silence, he spoke once more. "Others . . . injured?"
"Don't worry about that right now, Kix," Rex said. "We'll make sure everyone is taken care of."
Jesse rejoined them. "I found the laser torch. We should be able to cut through with this."
Hardcase grimaced. "Where's a Jedi when you need one? A light saber could cut through this easily."
As Jesse began to cut through the rod, Rex pat Hardcase on the arm. "Stay with him. Find a field stretcher and a blanket." With that, he and Cody checked on Echo, who assured them he was okay. They then headed for the ruined bridge where Little Ride had been evacuated and now Three Point and Zinger were scavenging through the wreckage for anything that might still be working. Slip was with Moog, trying to salvage the communications equipment.
"Any luck?"
Moog shook his head. "Everything's dead and . . . beyond repair, Sir. The distress beacon seems to still be working, but who knows where we got knocked out of hyperspace. They may not even know what system to look in. A beacon's only good if they have a general idea where to look." A pause. "I sent Bounce out to take some scans. There's nothing nearby. Remember that complex we passed? It's the closest, about 150 klicks due east. It's all desert in between."
Rex sighed. "I don't know if we can risk staying here until someone finds us. We're going to run out of water soon, and we only have enough hydration tablets to last two or three days for this many men. Our suits will offer some protection from the heat, but if it's going to be like this every day, we won't last long. It's already 46 degrees. It doesn't look like the sun has even reached apogee yet. I don't see that we have a choice. We're going to have to try and get to that complex."
"150 klicks across open desert," Cody frowned. "That's not going to be easy. And don't forget, our own forces might be looking for us, but so will the Separatists. They were hell-bent on taking us down. They must know what we're carrying."
"They won't rest until they know we're destroyed," Rex agreed.
"Or captured," Cody pointed out. He looked out through the broken window, his eyes scanning across the desert. "I agree. We have to move out. I think it's safest to move at night and take whatever cover we can find during the day. If we can cover 25 klicks a day, we should be able to make it."
"25 klicks a day is awfully fast for moving across sand," Three Point chimed in. "And with injured men."
"We have to try. We have no other viable options," Cody replied. "We can't stay here. Have Jesse take whoever's not helping the injured and start salvaging anything that might be useful, but nothing that we can't carry easily. We don't want to get weighed down. You and I will make sure the wounded can be moved. We'll leave as soon as everyone's ready to go, in case the Seppies are already here looking for us. We don't want to be anywhere near this ship. We'll travel through the night, then cover down during the day."
"Got it," Rex acknowledged, and he set his shoulders. "We should probably dismantle the beacon, too. The Separatists can detect it just as well as our own forces."
Cody grimaced. "You're right. We'll do it. Now let's get going."