Chapter Three: landfall
...
"Alright boys, listen up!"
Tup jolts back into awareness. His eyes shooting up from the floor to stare at the officer that stands before them.
"Mission briefing!"
Tup is at the back of the mess hall, leaning against the wall as he watches the trooper pace at the front. They are packed into the hall. Barely enough room to move a few feet in each direction. There had to be two companies worth of troopers in the hall. And all eyes were set upon the Lieutenant leading the briefing.
The Lieutenant, a clone with a haircut that conforms to the regs and a large mustache curling at his top lip, glares out over them. HIs armor is streaked with orange down the sides and across his chestplate in a linear fashion. Giving him a streamlined look to his armor. The paint is chipped and faded, making it clear the man is a combat veteran. The Lieutenant raises a datapad above his head and points out over the crowd.
"This is to be your life for the foreseeable future so listen closely!" The Lieutenant barks.
Tup sighs under his breath. The posturing is a bit much, he'll admit. He's been through enough of these things to know that it's only for the shinies in the crowd. Something to keep them from getting too nervous before the battle. A way to give them structure when the chaos starts to reign.
He'd been resting in his bunk when the comm came out for his barrack to make haste to the mess hall for the briefing. He'd been valiantly ignoring his bunk-mates existence, only able to handle so much of their shiny excitement. They still thought going off to war was a good thing, that it would fulfill their purpose in life or some such rot. He knew better, this war held no purpose to anyone other than those in power who wanted more of it. He wasn't going to crush their dreams though, so he did his best to avoid interacting with them.
Knowing that some, many, of them wouldn't come back from their first mission. Hell, he might not come back from his own first mission. And he's a combat veteran from one of the worst campaigns of the war.
Umbara was hell. He only survived by the skin of his teeth. He doubts he could do it again.
The shinies he's bunked with go by Grey Squad. Something they picked up in their training on Kamino together. He hasn't gotten any names, despite them trying. They are led by a 212th Sergeant that goes by Mizer. A trooper that had given him a thorough shebs-chewing when he finally made an appearance in the barracks. Tup can still hear the man's voice growing hoarse with how much he was yelling.
He deserved it though. He knew that, but it didn't stop the kernel of animosity from blooming in his chest at the man. Tup had enough of cruel leadership a long time ago.
Good Soldiers-
I'm free.
Needless to say, he wasn't on great terms with his bunkmates. So he really only spent time in the barracks to rest and regroup. Otherwise he was elsewhere. Wandering the ship mostly. Or taking care of tasks that had been assigned to him. His favorite was when he got guard duty. Sure it was tedious and near pointless, but it gave him peace and quiet. And time. Lots and lots of time. To think, to ponder, to simply be himself without fearing who could be looking.
Granted it has only been a day and a half in space, but that's still a lot of time to be bored. Stupid things happen when ground pounders are bored. Already, he's heard of two fights that had broken out amongst the crew. It was understandable, with how high tensions are before this upcoming conflict. He's just surprised there isn't more.
Things must be different in the 501st.
The Lieutenant waves a hand to his side and the lights dim, he sets the datapad on the table in front of him and presses a button. A hologram springs to life above it. Large enough for everyone to see. Even those in the back like Tup.
"This is Christophsis. This is going to be your home until the Separatists are destroyed on the planet!"
Christophsis. He knew nothing about the planet or of the battle that had taken place on it. He didn't know anything about it. All he knew was that sometime during the conflict, Ahsoka Tano would join the battalion as its Commander. That the mission was a success. But worst of all, news of this battle was never really spoken of in favor of what it preceded.
The Teth Massacre.
Stories of this time were few and far between, but what he did know was that those in the 501st now didn't have a long time left to live. The only person still alive from the massacre in his time had been the Captain. Everyone from the original Torrent Company had been killed over the years. The last one to go being the medic, Coric. Who died on Umbara during the first wave.
Tup wonders if he can do something about it. Would he be able to? Was there anything he could even do? It's not like he could just tell them to not go on the mission. They didn't have a choice in the matter. They were duty bound to follow their Jedi into the worst scenarios imagined. He didn't think he could convince them to betray General Skywalker and he didn't want to. He respected the General. Cared about both his jedi. He could never go against them.
He'd do anything for his Jedi. Anything.
Good Sol-
Shaking his head from the sudden fog, he glances back to the Lieutenant at the front of the hall. Watching as the trooper points to a dot on the map.
"This is Chaleydonia, better known as Crystal City. This is where the main assault is going to take place."
The Lieutenant zooms in on the datapad and the outline of a city comes into view, making Tup wince. He hates urban warfare. It sucks. It's unpredictable and often scary as all karking hell. It's an environment where any scatter-brained droid with a modicum of training and a blaster rifle could hold down a squad of troopers long enough for reinforcements to arrive and surround them.
He's seen too many brothers die in their ignorance of that fact. He had the feeling he was going to see some more.
Tup's eyes find their way back to the floor. Glad he has his helmet on yet, so no one can see the despair on his face. The next few days are going to be rough, he can already tell. Rough enough that he might not make it through the conflict.
Hadn't he seen enough of the struggle already? Why was he sent back only to live through it some more? What was his purpose even?
How is he supposed to change things when he doesn't have a single clue as to how they went the first time around?
Tup didn't know. And he is beginning to think the person or thing responsible for his displacement didn't either. He'd like a word or two with the responsible party. He'd finally found his rest, been free of the endless missions and death. And now he is right back in the thick of it.
He sighs and looks back up as the lights turn back on. The presentation seems to be coming to a close as the Lieutenant turns off the datapad and sends a stern look out over the gathered troops.
"In a few hours the space battle will commence and we will get on the gunships for deployment. I expect you all to be on your toes when we make landfall. Anything could happen. Keep an eye on your brothers and keep your heads up! We'll show them droids not to mess with the Republic!"
The crowd roars in unison. A cry that promises triumph and destruction. To Tup, it's bittersweet.
He can remember similar moments in his past. He used to be amongst them, shouting at the top of his lungs. But now, he's simply too tired to join in. Too burdened by what's to come to partake in the frivolity. He's the only trooper in the galaxy right now that knows this battle will be a victory.
And he's the only one who knows of the cost that comes after it.
...
"CT-5385!" a rough shove on his arm shakes him awake. He blinks sluggishly, staring blankly up at the bunk above him. "CT-5385, wake up!"
"..it's.." Tup turns to the insistent voice and feels himself freeze up. "What?"
Sergeant Mizer is standing over him in full armor. Orange stripes streak down the man's arms, sending a jolt of something down his spine. A scowl tilting the trooper's lips downward. Mizer scoffs at Tup's frozen form and turns back to the open area of the barracks. "Get up. It's almost time."
Slowly sitting up, Tup can see the others looking at him, apprehensive as he stretches out the kinks from his prolonged nap. He'd fallen into his bunk after the mission briefing, unwilling to take off his armor while he waited for the go signal. He must have fallen asleep while he was waiting. That would certainly explain why his face felt flushed under his helmet.
Certainly not the mind numbing fear he'd just experienced at the potential nightmare he'd almost woken to.
Stretching the last of the slumber from his limbs, he clambers to his feet. Using the top bunk to steady himself when he wobbles. He ignores the looks they send him and makes his way to the refresher. Shaking his head to clear the fog that came from his impromptu sleep.
Closing the door to the fresher behind him, he turns to the mirror and stares at the blank vizor. With bated breath, he reaches up and slowly takes off his helmet. Closing his eyes when the helmet comes free of his face.
"Kark it all." He whispers. "It's just your eyes. Nothing else has changed."
He settles the helmet on the counter and grips the edge of it with white-fingers. Taking in a deep breath, he steals himself for the reveal. Slowly, very slowly, he peaks open his eyes. Vibrant cobalt eyes stare back at him. It unsettles him just enough that the breath is sucked from his wasn't the first time seeing his new eye color. But it still caused a visceral reaction inside him every time
Tup supposes his statement isn't exactly true. Everything has changed. His eyes are just a symptom of the larger disease.
He rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. Now is not the time for a breakdown. He needs to get in the zone. Clear his mind so he can go into this conflict somewhat ready.
He's decided to not do anything yet. To let events play out like they would have if he wasn't there. Granted, he didn't know what those events were. So all he could do is be as passive as he could when it came to making decisions. And hope that he didn't change anything too major.
"Come on! It's time to go to the hanger!" Mizer bangs on the door. Plastoid armor clinking heavily against the durasteel.
Letting out a sigh, Tup shoves on his helmet and exits the fresher. He walks over to his locker, ignoring everyone in the room, and grabs his gear. It's only a backpack's worth, and a rifle, but it's all he has. And he's taking it all with him down to the surface. There's a chance he'll never see this barracks again, so it's better to have his stuff with him just in case.
He checks his pack, making sure everything is in it. Pulling out two blaster cartridges, he stuffs them into pouches on his waist. Better to have them on him than in his bag where they'll be useless. Turning back to the squad, he ignores Mizer's look and joins up at the back of the formation.
The trooper in front of him is shaking. Shoulders jerking in minute quakes that give away his fear. Tup almost reaches out to help calm the shiny but stops himself from doing so. Unable to bring himself to initiate contact, so he turns his head away to look at the barracks one last time. Taking in what could be his last look at life without the war. Knowing that soon, he'd be on the ground fighting for his life and the lives of those around him.
Letting out another sigh, he turns to the Sergeant and waits for the trooper's orders. Rifle resting on his shoulder in parade rest. Mizer is looking at his wrist, the comm unit that sits upon it. Waiting patiently for the comm to come through.
A flash of blue lights up on the trooper's wrist. It blinks a few times before Mizer presses the button and answers the comm. "Sergeant, it's time. Gather your men and report to the hangar bay."
"Yessir!" Mizer drops his wrist and gestures at the shiny in the front. "Haddock, lead us out."
The newly named Haddock snaps to attention. "Sir, yes Sir!"
Tup feels himself wilt a little inside. He's tried so hard to not learn their names and now he knows one of them. He can feel his reluctance crumbling. This was not how it's supposed to go.
The shiny starts forward and the rest of the squad follows, almost catching Tup off guard. He has to throw in a quick step or two to keep up. As they make it to the threshold of the door, he can see Mizer looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He can only sigh, when Mizer purposely falls into formation right behind him. Making sure he doesn't disappear again no doubt.
As they come out of the barracks, they run into another squad doing the same on the other side of the hallway. Mizer, seeing them, speeds up and goes around the squad to meet up with them.
"Slick!" Mizer joins the other Sergeant at the front of the two squads. The other Sergeant, Slick, turns to Mizer stiffly. Or atleast, that's what it looks like to Tup.
For some reason, the name Slick is ringing bells in the back of his head. He knows that name, but why? He doesn't know. Tup feels like it's something he should know. Slick is important somehow. Somehow the nearby trooper played a role in the upcoming conflict but he couldn't remember how.
Maybe he dies in the upcoming battles? Brothers liked to tell hero stories of fallen troopers at night when the shinies couldn't sleep. As a way to remember the fallen and ease a shiny's mind before a conflict. Maybe he does something heroic during the fighting that earns him a place in the history of the 501st? But that didn't make sense, the 501st had enough heroics to go around. They wouldn't take stories from a different battalion and add them to their own. Not without it being something major.
Tup doesn't know what it could be. And speculation would only drive him to the wrong conclusions. Might make him do something he isn't supposed to, all to keep the future intact.
"Mizer." Slick nods and waves his squad forward. Mizer takes position at the front of the squad to lead them alongside Slick. "How do you like leading your first squad?"
"It's certainly different." Mizer turns his head to the side. Taking in the squad out of the corner of his eye. Tup wants to scoff. Great. So not only does the Sergeant have it out for him, but it's his first time leading a squad as well.
Very suddenly, he feels bad for the shinies of Grey Squad. The nine of them are going off to war with an inexperienced leader and it's their first conflict. Already he can see the hesitance rising up in some of them. The way their shoulders have started to tense and the low creaking of gloves on rifles runs through the air.
Tup lets out a quiet sigh. This conflict is going to be a shit-show, he can already tell.
"I'm sure you'll be fine, Mizer." Slick bumps the other trooper in camaraderie. "I was nervous the first time too. Just keep an eye on them and you'll be fine."
"You sure?" Mizer asks hesitantly.
Slick lets out a short laugh and nods his head. "Promise."
The word seems to cause Mizer to relax. The tension sliding out of his body. Tup has to admit, Slick seems like an upstanding guy. He knew just what to say to get Mizer to relax. And he had no compunctions about doing so. In fact, he seems happy to be doing it.
Makes Tup wonder what had happened to the trooper. He must have been beloved by many of the brothers for his story to still be told so late during the war. Maybe he could change this? Make sure the trooper sticks around to tell his own story? Tup doesn't know how he is going to do that, but he'll find a way. Somehow.
"We should get going." Mizer says, looking down at his wrist. "Otherwise we'll be late."
Slick nods and waves his squad forward. "Come on boys, time to go."
Together, the two squads make their way down to the hangars. It's a long walk, so it gives Tup enough time to think as they go. It's all he's been doing the last few days. Thinking. Trying to come up with a plan of action. A way to minimize the casualties in these conflicts. To give the 501st a fighting chance at making it through the war.
He still doesn't have any clue as to how he's supposed to make a difference.
And now he's going into his first conflict unprepared. Sure he has the training and experience to see it through to the end. But can the same be said for the troopers around him? No. It cannot. He's stuck on a squad of shinies, most of whom will die in the upcoming battles and he can do nothing to stop it.
Good Soldiers Follow Orders
He shakes his head. Trying to clear the fog. He feels a jolt of panic grip his soul. Umbara flashes behind his eyes and it sends his heart rate skyrocketing. Shadows start to creep in at the edges of his vision. The rest of the walk is a blur. He doesn't remember most of it, so when they reach the hangar, it comes as a surprise.
The hangar is packed full of troopers loading into gunships. He lets out a breath at the familiarity. This is something he is used to. It gives him a chance to calm his beating heart and prepare himself for the upcoming conflict.
"Come on troopers," Slick barks at his squad and his men all tense up. As if they were about to leap off a tower without a jetpack. "Let's find our ride!"
Tup watches them run off. An odd feeling tingling at the back of his brain. Telling him to be aware of something he can't see yet. The only problem? He doesn't know what he's supposed to be looking for.
"You heard him." Mizer turns to them. "We should do the same."
Tup sighs as the others snap to attention and follow the Sergeant forward into the hangar. He takes in his surroundings. Watching troopers run back and forth, engineers make last minute preps on gunships, and droids zip through the crowded room. It's chaos, and yet. It's an orderly chaos. Everyone in the hangar has a purpose. And they're set about accomplishing their purposes.
It's refreshing to see.
After so long without the familiar chaos, he's gotten complacent. Gotten spoiled. And now it's time to get back into fighting shape. So, he takes a deep breath and tries to center himself. To forget about the future and the past and just live in the moment.
"This is our ship, boys. Climb aboard!" Mizer orders, standing in front of a gunship with a scantily-clad Togruta painted on the nose.
He doesn't recognize the ship, but that's to be expected. He wasn't a part of the 212th in the past, (future?), so he wouldn't know who the pilot is. If he is being honest, he barely knows any of the 501st pilots either. Only a few and those were circumstantial.
He's the last one onto the ship, so he'll be the first one off the ship when makes landfall. It's one of the more dangerous spots on a gunship. He's the most likely to be shot during departure. Tup doesn't mind the spot. If anyone is going to go down first, it might as well be him. That way it'll give the shinies a chance to make it.
The blast doors on the ship slide closed, sending the hold into darkness before a light kicks. Bathing their white armor with a menacing red glow. He takes the time before launch to check over his weapon. Making sure it's in working order. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a few of the shinies follow suit.
"Attention VIP's. This is your pilot speaking. Please make sure to keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. If you feel like you got to throw up, please feel free to do so. Inside your bucket. I don't need you stinking up my ship!"
"Bolt," Mizer sighs. So he knew who the pilot was. "Don't scare my shinies."
"I wasn't scaring them." The pilot protests. Genuinely sounding hurt over the comm system. "If I was scaring them, I'd tell them that we're more likely to be shot down in space than we are to make a crash landing. Either way, survival rates are low."
"What did I just say?" Mizer complains up at the ceiling.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tup sees a shiny shift nervously in place. The trooper reaches up with both hands to grip the handle above him. He has to look away. Hit by a sense of deja vu at the sight.
He used to be that trooper.
Used to be. He isn't that person anymore. And he didn't think he would ever go back to being that person. The trooper from before Umbara is long gone.
"Sorry Mizer." The pilot didn't sound apologetic. "Trying to lighten the mood."
Mizer sighs in response. "Wonderful attempt, Bolt."
Tup shakes his head. Closing his eyes to block out the red hue, he feels the ship start to hum under his feet. Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself for what's to come.
"Alright boys," Bolt chirps. "Off we go!"
The ship lurches under him. His non-dominant hand shoots up to grab the handle above his head. The takeoff came without much warning. So much so that it catches him off guard. He grunts as the gravity inside the ship takes hold.
He opens his eyes when he feels the ship pass through the reflector shields of the cruiser. The red hue is nearly blinding, he has to blink a few times for his eyes to focus.
Riding down to the surface is nerve-racking. He's completely powerless to the fighting that's going on in the space around them. Something he always hated. He has no control while in flight and it bothers him. Bothers him more than it had any right to.
The ship jerks to the side and rattles from a blast that had gotten too close. One of the shinies lets out a cry as he crashes into the side wall of the ship. Tup turns to make sure he's okay, but the kid is already picking himself up from where he'd fallen.
"You alright?" Mizer yells over the sound of the engines.
The shiny nods while some others help him back to his feet. "Yessir!"
"Hold onto those handles boys!" Mizer barks. "The ride can get bumpy!"
"Sir!" a few of them reply.
"ETA, thirty seconds to landfall!" Bolt's voice crackles over the comms.
"Alright boys listen up!" Mizer starts. And Tup can hear the way his tone changes at the seriousness of the situation. "I want you to keep your heads up and your eyes open. We don't know what we're dropping into so be prepared to move! With any luck, we'll all make it through this."
Tup crouched in preparation. His fingers playing with the safety of his rifle, ready to flick it off at any moment. He felt the gunship make a swooping motion and grew tense.
The red light flickers and turns green.
The doors slide open on both sides of the gunship. A bright light blinds him for a moment. But he pushes through it and takes a step off the ship. He blinks his eyes to clear them.
He turns to look around the ship. Searching for threats. When he sees something out of the corner of his eye.
A streak of red light shoots right at him. He freezes in place. There's no time to move. No time to do anything but close his eyes and accept his fate.
He feels something hit him in the side. Sending him to the ground. Feels the air leave his lungs.
He's on his back. Eyes blinking open to stare up at the underside of the gunship. Someone is yelling. But it's muffled. He can't understand what they're saying.
A helmet invades his vision as the gunship takes off. He stares up at it. It's not Mizer, but one of shinies. He can feel a hand moving over his body, probing at his side.
"...eight-five?" The voice is muffled, but he can still understand them. The hand probing his side reaches up to Tup's helmet. Fingers curling under the lip to pull it over his head.
Tup grabs the hand to stop it from pulling his helmet off. "..what?"
"Eight-five! It's alright, it looks like just a flesh wound!" The shiny tries to reassure, but Tup feels a burning sensation shoot up from his side.
Tup feels a bit of kinship blossom in his chest towards the shiny. Not many troopers would stop to help an injured brother like this. At least not for a long time anyway. After Umbara, things had gone downhill. Troopers were more worried about their own skin than their brothers. Something Krell had unfortunately instilled in them.
"..who?" He hisses. His nerves around the wound were on fire.
"It's Tyre, come on." Tyre grabs him by the arms and starts pulling him to his feet. "We're falling behind! The others are taking part in the assault."
Tup groans as he's pulled to his feet. Looking down, his side is a mess of black char and blood. Still smoking from where the bolt had hit him. Making him wonder if he should even be moving, let alone getting to his feet to head off to battle. But the shiny is still at his side, keeping him standing.
"That's it Eight-five! You got this. Do you need some bacta? I don't have any bacta." The kid sounds like he's freaking out, so Tup grabs him by the arm. Hoping to calm him down.
"Easy." He grunts. Eyes searching the battlefield and letting out a wince. All around him is destruction. Bolts of blue and red energy fly across the landscape, hissing angrily as they go. He can see white armored bodies lying nearby and has to look away. Knowing that those troopers were already beyond saving.
"Sorry, Eight-five." Tyre clenches his rifle harder in his hands. "I didn't-"
"Tup." He breaks in.
The shiny pauses, head tilting in Tup's direction. "What?"
Tup sighs, looking down at his wound and probing the edge of the blackness, hissing when he feels pain shoot through his body. "Names Tup."
"Oh." Tyre mumbles. "Okay. We gotta go Tup."
Tup nods. Limping forward, he nudges the shiny with his elbow. "Thanks."
Tyre perks up, shoulders dropping from their tense posture. "Sure thing!"
"Let's go." Tup starts jogging towards the battle lines. Ignoring how every step pulls angrily at his wound. He feels the pain blossom into a full body ache as he goes. The shiny is right on his tail, easily keeping up with his wounded pace.
His eyes scan the battlefield in search of a medic, while he keeps an eye out for the rest of Grey Squad.
Find Grey Squad first. He thinks. Then find a medic.
Better that he return the shiny to his squad first before he searches out a medic. The wound is cauterized from the plasma bolt, so he doesn't have to worry about bleeding out. Right now, it's only the pain that is his biggest concern. And he can deal with some pain for a little while if it meant that a shiny would be reunited with his squad. Safety in numbers and all that.
By the time they make it to the front line, Tup feels winded in a way he hasn't felt in a long time. He curses his younger body for being so out of shape. Curses himself for not being fast enough to dodge that blaster bolt. Curses his whole life leading up to this point.
He ducks behind some cover, debris from a building nearby, and searches the line for Grey Squad. Tyre drops to the ground next to him, out of breath but for a different reason. No doubt the shiny is going through what every trooper goes through in their first battle. The adrenaline dump during the first fight is always insane.
Scanning the line, he catches sight of Mizer's familiar armor a few meters away from them. So he nudges the shiny with his hand and points in that direction. "Go."
Tyre nods and is about to move, when he seems to notice Tup not doing the same. So the shiny crouches back down next to him. "What about you?"
Tup sighs, peeking over his cover to see the droids about a hundred meters away, trying to advance but slowly being pushed back. He points to his right, across the front line where he can see a medic tending to the wounded. "Medic."
"I'm coming with you." Tyre protests, causing Tup to let out another sigh. He figured something like this would happen.
"No," He points at Mizer once again. "Go."
Tyre shakes his head. Gripping his rifle tighter in steady hands. "They're fine. I'll follow you, the squad sticks together."
I'm not a part of your squad. He wants to say. But that wasn't true, not anymore. He's lost everything he worked for. Once again a line trooper for the 7th Sky Corps, his former squad doesn't even exist yet.
Sighing again, Tup turns to stare at the shiny. Trying to convey a thousand words with only a look and feeling like he fails.
If Tyre follows him, he won't be in the fight. Won't be alongside his brothers, wracking up a kill count, watching their backs. He'll be following Tup to get treated and possibly sat out. This battle is going to go on without him.
Is Tyre able to accept that?
"You sure?" He asks. The question is a loaded one and Tup isn't sure the shiny fully understands what he's asking.
Tyre nods once, head peeking over the cover only to duck back down when a shot comes too close for comfort. "I'm sure."
Tup sighs, but nods in acceptance. "Fine."
He clambers to his feet, still ducked behind the cover, and prepares to make the run across the line. He takes in the shiny, who grows tense. Then he turns in the direction of the medic. "Ready?"
"Yeah." Tyre responds.
"Okay." He feels himself tense. Waiting for the perfect moment to move. He just has to wait for a lull in the droids firing. He has to- "Go!"
He takes off in a dead sprint. His injured side sends jolts of pain through his body. To his credit, the shiny easily keeps up with him. The run is a long one. Or at least it feels like it. He keeps his head low as he moves, which is smart because the blaster bolts start flying in his direction as he moves. Red bolts of energy that hiss by his head.
Mid-run, he looks behind him to make sure the shiny is still following him and is happily surprised to see him keeping pace.
Ducking one last shot to his head, he throws himself into cover next to the medic who is treating a trooper with a leg wound. The medic looks up for a second, his helmet off, so Tup can see his eyes scan his body. Instantly, the medic catalogs his wounded side. Evidence by the way the trooper's eyes seem to narrow. The medic glances at Tyre, but goes back to working on the wounded trooper when he doesn't see any injuries.
"Sit." The medic orders. Gesturing to the space next to the wounded trooper. Tup winces, but settles in next to the wounded trooper, who turns his helmet in Tup's direction. Tup gives him a thumbs up and the trooper returns it shakily.
Tup turns to Tyre and gestures for the trooper to get down. Seeing as the shiny had been standing up behind the cover. When the shiny crouches down next to him, Tup points at a spot on the edge of the cover. A little nook that nobody seems to be occupying.
"Go there." He points down at Tyre's rifle. "Use that."
Tyre nods, scrambling over to the nook and peaking over the edge of the cover. Tup watches him bring up his rifle and aim it at the droids down range. He watches the shiny pull the trigger for the first time, his body slightly jerking at the recoil, before he readjusts and sends more shots down range. Every shot visibly giving him more confidence.
Satisfied that the shiny is occupied, Tup turns back just as the medic finishes up with the wounded trooper's leg. The medic turns, shuffling over to Tup's injured side. Tup hears him hiss as he takes in the state Tup has gotten himself in.
"How are you still walking?" The medic asks, but Tup thinks he's talking more to himself than to Tup.
Still, Tup shrugs his shoulders in response. Ignoring how it sends jolts of pain up his side.
The medic shakes his head and reaches into his bag. Pulling something out from the depths. "I can give you painkillers and some bacta, but that's all I can do for right now. You'll have to come find me after the fighting is over."
Tup nods in agreement. Accepting the situation with ease. This isn't the first time he's been injured in the field, so he knows how these things go. Didn't mean he had to search the medic out later though. He could just take care of his own injuries later, he didn't need to be stuffed into the med-bay for who knows how long.
The medic gives him a stink-eye, as if he can read Tup's mind, but doesn't say anything. He sets to work covering the wound in bacta. Tup winces when the medic prods the wound a touch too harshly. He's about to say something when the medic suddenly sticks him with a stim-shot in the side, causing him to let out a grunt of pain.
He slowly turns towards the medic, hoping his glare is felt through his helmet. But the medic is already turned away, packing up his bag.
"Find me after." He orders. And then he's off. Working his way over to the next trooper that needs his help.
Tup sighs, clambering into a crouch. His eyes scan around him. The shiny is still where he left him, occasionally ducking down when a blaster bolt gets too close to his head. Tup takes a few steps over to the shiny and falls to a knee at his side.
"Alright?" He asks.
Tyre turns to him and nods his head as he ducks down behind cover. "Yeah. Are you okay? I saw the medic leave."
Tup nods back. "Yeah. I'm good."
"Good. Should we find Grey Squad then?" Tyre asks. And Tup lets loose another nod. He checks his rifle, makes sure it's in working order. When he's satisfied it's working, he turns his eyes back across the front line.
He's curious. The line hasn't moved at all for a while now and the droids are steadily being pushed back. Makes him wonder why they aren't advancing when they have the advantage. Granted, he wasn't paying attention during the mission briefing, so he doesn't know for sure what is going on. All he knows is that he needs to fire his weapon at the droids until they stop moving forward.
And that's all he needs right now.
With a grunt, he climbs to his feet. Tyre follows suit and together they take off back across the line. Running is easier this time around, due to the painkillers coursing through his system. When they make it back to Grey Squad, they find Mizer sitting behind some cover putting a new blaster cartridge into his rifle.
He looks up when they arrive, "Where…?"
Tup can feel the man's eyes drop down to his scorched side. Luckily, he doesn't have to say anything because Tyre speaks up for him.
"Saw a medic for his side." Tyre crouches next to the Sergeant. "How's things around here?"
Tup crouches at the edge of the cover and brings his rifle to his shoulder. Taking aim at some droids he can see in the distance. A distance that has stretched to reach out to almost two-hundred meters by this point.
"We've been steadily pushing them back." Mizer says, finishing up with the cartridge.
Tyre nods, "Why haven't we made any advances?"
"Our orders where to form a perimeter around the landing zone," Mizer shrugs. "We've done that. We're just waiting on reinforcements."
Tup pulls the trigger and watches the droid he was aiming at fall over in the distance. He switches targets and pulls the trigger two more times. His targets crash to the harsh ground. Never to stand back up again.
"What reinforcements?" Tyre asks, and Tup can see the shiny join him out of the corner of his eye.
"The five-oh-first." Mizer says. As if he doesn't just drop a bomb on Tup in the process.
Tup feels his breath catch in his throat. Finger pausing mid-trigger pull.
Oh.
"Really?" Tyre sounds breathless.
Mizer nods, joining them in shooting over the top of the cover. "Yeah, they're coming up behind the Seppies. Going to pinch them between us so it'll be easy shooting."
Tup feels his heart sink at the good news. Realistically, he knew that the 501st was going to be a part of this conflict. He knew they were in theater. But, without having any visuals of them since he woke up, he's kinda forgotten about them
Well, not forgotten. Suppressed maybe, but not forgotten.
There is a lot to unpack with the 501st. They are, were, his home. His whole life. And now the distance between them is too far. Would he try to make it back into the battalion? Would he work his shebs off to make the cut? Is it worth it even?
A blaster bolt hits the piece of cover in front of him sending dirt and debris into his helmet. He jerks back, nearly falling onto his behind.
"You okay, Tup?" Tyre grabs him by the shoulder, pulling him behind cover.
Tup grunts out a stilted, "yeah."
Tyre nods and peeks around the cover to take a few shots down range. He ducks back when a blaster bolt streaks by his head. Tyre turns to look at Mizer. "When are they supposed to arrive?"
Tup slides over to another piece of the cover to shoot over the top of it, and sees Mizer duck down out of the corner of his eye.
"Right about.." Mizer peaks his head over the top. Watching the droids in the distance.
Tup sees the fireball before he hears the explosion. From behind the droids, a massive fireball streaks up towards the sky. He can see droid parts start to rain down out of the fire. Bolts of blue fire begin peppering the droids from multiple angles. Most devastating comes from behind them.
"Now." He can hear the smirk on Mizer's face.
A cry rises up within the front line. Troopers begin cheering loudly at the sight. Many of them leave cover to stand out in the open as the droids begin panicking.
Tup lowers his rifle. Letting out a sigh as the blaster-fire reaches a crescendo. Already he can see the droids start to fall in droves. But he knows this is only the start. The Separatists are too entrenched on the planet for this to be the end of the fighting. This is only a few companies worth of droids. There is an entire army on the planet. He just knew it.
Soon, the battle comes to an end as the final droid falls. He lets his muscles slowly unclench, causing his side to throb uncomfortably. Around him, troopers start to cheer. Rifles being raised over heads and fists being thrown into the air.
Tup rises to his feet. Standing as tall as his injury will let him. He feels heart grow a little lighter. This is a good start to the conflict. A successful assault that would keep the trooper's morale high going into the next fight.
But he knew they would win this battle. He didn't know how, or how long it would take. But he knew it would be a Republic victory. So he had to have a little faith in the process. There wasn't anything he knew to change right now. The only thing he could do is be the best he can be. To make sure he kept as many brothers alive as he could.
They would need all the help they could get when it came time to go to Teth.
"Hey," Tyre pipes up from next to him. Tup turns to see him looking over the members of Grey Squad. "Where are Haddock and Wurth?"
Tup watches the members of the squad turn their heads away. Mizer lets out a sigh that makes his stomach curl in a way it hasn't in a long time.
"I'm sorry Tyre, they didn't make it." Mizer breaks the news and the others all seem to slump.
Tyre seems to freeze in place. His previous joy over a successful battle wilting away into the blue dust of Christophsis. "Oh."
Tup has to look away. Unable to see the trooper lose whatever innocence he had left. He can remember that happening to him. It's not a great feeling.
"Where are they?" Tyre drones. Voice going dull.
Mizer only seems to sigh, but he does wave Tyre off into a different direction. The others follow as they make their way to where their batchmates lay unresponsive.
Tup doesn't follow. He already feels like he's intruding just by being here. He didn't want to be even more in the way. So he stayed put. Turning his eyes out over the remains of the battlefield. He can see troopers in the distance making their way through the debris of battle droids. Every once and a while, a trooper stops and puts a shot into a downed droid. Making sure the droids stay dead.
He lets out a sigh when he catches a hint of 501st blue in the crowd. He knows he'll have to face them eventually. The only way for him to make a difference is to make sure he joins the 501st like last time. Then he can start making changes. He just doesn't know what needs to be changed.
That is one of the biggest gripes he has with his current soiree into the past. He hasn't lived through most of these events. So he doesn't know what to do about any of them.
He wishes Fives was here. Fives lived through most of this. Fives would know what to do. What to change and what to protect. Would know how to go forward from here.
Sighing, he turns away from the incoming troopers and searches the area for Grey Squad.
Maybe he just needed to wing it.