Prologue: Collectors of the Dead

 ~Other Stars~

an alternative timeline Star Wars story

~Book 1 Prologue: Collectors of the Dead~

22 BBY, after the first battle of Geonosis, before the battle of Christophsis,

before the first episode of The Clone Wars

    The fighting was over for the day by mutual agreement of the two warring sides and the pair of medics searched the battlefield in a race against the setting sun. The floor of the valley undulated with low hills, once covered in waving grasses now largely burned away and trampled. The hills cratered by heavy shelling. Only the marshy area at the valley's lowest point was largely untouched.

"Receiving signal, dead ahead."

Clad in white armor, individualized with blue markings and the red patch of the medical corps emblazoned on their shoulders, they hurried to chase down the source of the distress beacon. They were armed with blaster rifles, but the enemy had already retreated into the foothills. The light was dying fast as the pale sun sank behind the rounded mountains that enclosed the valley.

"Kix, we're about out of time."

"We're close, dammit."

The one called Kix paused atop a low rise and held up a scanner as he tried to pinpoint the beacon. "I swear signals bounce off these damned hills," he said in growing frustration.

"Easy, brother."

"Sorry, Dustoff. My fuse's been getting short lately. I think the signal's coming from near that overturned tank."

It was a Separatist Armored Assault Tank, the hover vehicle of thirty plus tons lay upside down, it's shovel shaped bottom facing the sky, its bent cannon half buried in the ground. As the medics came around its side, they spotted the trooper laying still and silent in its shadow. Kix and Dustoff hurried to his side. Dustoff felt for a pulse as Kix scanned him for signs of life.

"Nothing. Not fast enough for this one." Kix let his hand sink, resting the bioscanner on his knees as he sat back on his heels.

"Blaster wounds to the chest. Lots of burns on the tank too. He must've tried taking shelter here and gotten pinned down." Dustoff ran his hand over the side of the tank. "Look at this!"

Kix looked up and spotted the deep scratches and gouges around the rim of the tank's lower section. "Like the others we've seen. The scavengers probably tipped this one over, or even tossed it like that tank half sunk in the marsh."

"Yeah, I think it's time to go." Dustoff pulled the trooper up by one arm and slung him over his shoulder. "We've already stayed too long, here it comes."

Dusk had fallen and as soon as the mountain shadows grew deep, fog poured out of the heavily forested slopes. The leading edge was as thick as a cloud bank and the fog raced across the valley floor like an army of spirits in full charge. There was little point in trying to outrun it.

"Hope the boys back at camp remember to turn the lights on." Dustoff quipped with forced cheerfulness as he watched the billowing wall rush towards them.

Kix resisted the urge to lean into it, as though he were bracing against a crashing wave. In an instant his world changed, from the solidity of black dirt and burnt grass to an ethereal realm of swirling white. The soldiers' helmets could be equipped with lights, but the powerful beams tended to create a blindingly bright area of reflection immediately around the user. Instead he and Dustoff pulled out small pen lights. The dimmer illumination seemed to penetrate further into the fog.

"Let's get a move on before we get turned around." Dustoff clipped his light to his belt and began to head back the way they'd come.

Kix clipped his light to his rifle.

They walked cautiously through the fog. Their footfalls strangely muffled.  A monstrous shape loomed out of the swirling mist. It was a downed AT-TE. The six-legged Republic Walker had been hit by a mortar a couple days ago that blew out its midsection. Its front sets of legs remained locked in an upright position but its rear legs had folded giving it the character of a giant kneeling insect. Someone had placed a small fusion lantern on top of its "head", turning the tank into a landmark for any troopers trying to navigate in the fog.

"Just need to follow its tail straight to the camp," Dustoff said.

Kix was slowly swinging his rifle back and forth, sweeping the light through the mist. "I think we're clear."

"As far as we know, they've never actually attacked a Republic trooper." Dustoff adjusted the weight on his shoulder as he walked.

"As far as we know they carry away bodies, turn droids into confetti, and not much else. We don't know if the troopers they take started off dead or alive." Kix continued to scan the fog as they traveled.

They came up over the crest of another hill and spotted a thickening in the fog directly ahead of them. It was close, the mass of the hill had hidden it. The medics froze in place as it twisted serpentine and a pair of shining sapphires came into view. They stilled their breathing as if they could avoid its notice as it gazed directly at them. It was little more than a vague impression of a large curving shape, as if a twisting column of the fog itself had solidified. It faded in and out with every whorl of the restless mist, devoid of color or texture save for the intense glow of its eyes. It hung there unmoving, blocking their path.

"Think it wants the corpse?" Dustoff whispered.

Kix tightened his grip on his rifle.

The creature contemplated them a moment more, then the sapphires turned away and the rest of it melted into the fog.

Dustoff let out the breath he'd been holding. "Something large as a rancor should make some damn noise."

"Lets go." Kix hurried down the hill forcing Dustoff to catch up.

"It could still be there!" Dustoff twisted to look around nervously.

"Near or far, those things could sneak up and you'd never know what grabbed you. Let's just get the hell out of here."

*****

    The camp was a temporary base for the Republic Army that became a little more permanent with each passing day as the fighting within the valley dragged on. It was supposed to be a quick campaign. The Republic fleet of starships had swept into the system before the Separatist fleet could arrive to defend this planet, and bombarded the enemy bases on the surface.  Then they dropped off half of the 501st Legion to scour what remained and eradicate the surviving machine soldiers of the CIS.   The army divided up by battalion and chased down the battle droids. General Skywalker himself lead two battalions against the main body of the surviving droid forces as they fled towards the mountains. Then everything came to a halt in the valley.

As soon as Kix and Dustoff entered the camp, the sentry on duty approached them. "Kix, Dustoff, good to see you. You two were the last men still out there." He looked at Dustoff's burden and tilted his head in inquiry but the medic just shook his head. "Ah, to the morgue then. I won't delay you. I just have a message for Kix."

Dustoff nodded and walked off towards an LAAT in the distance. This particular Low Altitude Assault Transport now only carried soldiers who were done with fighting.

"What have you got for me Flare?"

"Just a change in schedule. Wounded have thankfully been manageable, so you're off night duty unless there's a surge."

Kix sighed at the small relief. "I take it surgery is quiet?" He looked off towards the mass of white canvas rising out of the drifting mist. The red sigil of the medical corps stamped on the fabric.

"Pulse, Vers, and Doc are on duty and have it covered. Get something from the mess and get some sleep. That's from the captain."

Kix nodded and decided to do just that. A hot bowl of soup sounded really good. The past three days had been grueling. With their backs to the wall of the mountains, the mechanical soldiers had finally committed to fighting back, and did so with surprising ferocity. It had been speculated that a tactical droid was leading them, and the effectiveness of the droids' last stand defense was proof.   And then, of course, there was the complicating element.

Kix walked into the camp. Fusion lanterns large and small dotted the landscape. The camp was tucked up against the densely forested slopes of the eroded mountains on the western side of the valley. At this higher elevation the fog was thinner. It was densest a few inches above the ground where it drifted like snow and swirled around one's feet. Above that it formed a diffuse haze that gave the base an otherworldly quality where everything seemed to float above a shifting surface.

Even at night, the camp was busy. Troopers patrolled the perimeter and the now ubiquitous messengers carried orders and other information back and forth from a pair of downed gunships turned command center. Kix passed this makeshift structure. The LAATs had both lost a wing but still managed to crash otherwise intact. They'd been dragged into place by a Walker and a tarp stretched between them to form a connecting roof. The general had taken up residence in one of the troop transports while the other served as storage and a portable holotable occupied the space between, though it had limited use at the moment. The command center worked as a summary for the camp itself. Downed ships and other wreckage strewn about with tarps and tents served as the camp's buildings. Another LAAT, flight worthy but grounded served as Kix's barracks, and he stopped there briefly to drop off his helmet.

The mess tents were clustered together to form one large dining hall and this was where Kix headed. He walked to the dispensers, the choices were vegetable soup, stew, or noodles and coffee. Not exciting but thankfully still plentiful. As he filled his bowl he saw Dustoff enter and nodded to his fellow medic before taking his tray to join the small group gathered at one of the long tables. As Kix approached, he heard the sound of static.

"Hear that? That's a regular oscillation with a set period."

"You can get repeating patterns out of natural sources. Just because the noise isn't random doesn't mean its artificially generated."

"I'm telling you it's unnatural."

The men gathered were all of a nearly identical character. Olive skin, black hair, brown eyes, matching faces and similar voices, they were clones. The entire army of the Repubic was made up of soldiers derived from a singular genetic source, and created to serve as soldiers in this time of need. And so, it was perhaps no surprise they wore such a variety of hair styles, tattoos, and patterns on their armor to individualize themselves.

Kix joined them and set his tray on the table. Longshot, a clone with a short cropped mohawk and the armor on both arms covered in tally marks had his arm resting on the table, his wrist communicator on, and was the source of the static.

"Maybe it's natural, maybe it's not. It's not likely to matter." The clone who spoke sported a thin chinstrap beard and leaned indolently against the table, elbow on the surface, head propped on one hand. He straddled the bench as he faced Longshot. He looked up as Kix joined them. "Hey, Kix. Haven't seen you in a while. You look like you've been dragged through a knothole."

"I was pulling both field and surgery duty for the past few days. Things have finally calmed down."

The other clone nodded grimly.

"Aiden." Longshot spoke to regain the clone's attention and continue their conversation. "If we could find the source of this interference it would solve almost all of our problems."

Aiden shrugged. "That it would, but where would we look? There's nothing out here other than us and the clankers. How would we find it? Long range scans don't work here and short range is dead once the fog rolls in. Even sensitive equipment is farkled.  You should see what a hologram contorts into when the murk is about." He shuddered. "We'd literally have to stumble across it by accident."

"Well, us and the clankers aren't quite the only things out here. Kix and I had an encounter on the way in." Dustoff had arrived with his tray and sat next to Kix. "Longshot, mind turning your com off? That static is hard to listen to."

Kix was also relieved when Longshot complied and the crackling hiss was silenced. The sound crawled right up his spine.

"You saw one of them?"

The other two clones present had been silently listening to the conversation between Longshot and Aiden. One wore the standard regulation flat top haircut with no decorations save for the diagonal pattern of chevrons painted across his chest plate. The other sported a shaved head and had a large cogwheel, symbol of the Republic, tattooed on the left side.

"Well, as much as anyone ever sees one, Breakout." Dustoff replied to the one with the chevrons.

Dustoff himself maintained a very plain look. His hair worn in a basic crew cut rather than a flat top. Kix wore his hair extremely short, with lightning bolts shaved into it and words tattooed on the left side of his head that read "a good droid is a dead one".

"So what did you see?"

"Glowing blue eyes, head on a long neck. Either a long tail or serpent body."

"They have arms and hands with long fingers." said Breakout.

"The one Kix and I ran into was pretty close to us, almost bumped right into it as we walked over a hill. It gave us a brief look over then vanished. Just gone like a spirit."

"Well they're not phantoms, we know that for sure," Longshot stated. "You can hit them with blaster fire, not that they care. Droids shot at them and found out how solid they were real fast."

"Too bad the fog beasties didn't wipe the clankers out, could have saved us a lot of trouble. Ugh, I need another coffee."

"Why don't you get some sleep, Aiden?" Dustoff asked with some concern.

"I will a bit later. Got an appointment up top shortly."

"With the Jedi General? Now there's someone else who doesn't get much sleep."

"Well, we got problems and he's trying to come up with solutions that don't involve us climbing out of this valley on foot. Without communications, the rest of the army doesn't even know where we are,” said Aiden.

Four days ago the Jedi, Anakin Skywalker, had lead his battalions in pursuit of the Separatist forces into this valley. They'd flown in via their LAAT troop and tank carriers. As soon as they'd passed the mountains, their ships' navigation had gone haywire and activated the nav com's collision avoidance systems. Before the clone pilots could wrest control away from the computers, they'd collectively nose dived towards the valley. Testament to the skill of the pilots, there were no fatalities, even if some of the forced landings dug deep trenches into the ground or resulted in a gunship coming to rest upside down. Crashing was simply the beginning of their tribulations.

"You ARC troopers see him more than the rest of us commoners do," Longshot leaned towards Aiden. "You got much confidence in this Jedi?"

The clone with the cogwheel tattoo spoke up," Now see here Longshot. That's no way to talk about our general. He may be new to command but that doesn't mean he's incompetent. The 501st Legion itself barely existed before being assigned to him."

"It's different with us. We've been trained for this our whole lives, Jesse. The Jedi aren't soldiers and are still working out how to be proper leaders for an army. I was at Geonosis, you weren't, and that operation was near disastrous."

"So they made some mistakes..."

"When they make an expensive mistake, we pick up the tab, my brother."

"What are you getting at?"

"All I'm saying is, aside from being inexperienced, I hope General Skywalker also turns out to be brilliant because if something doesn't give soon we'll be feeling the bite in our supplies and then we'll all be feeding our friends out there."

"The droids have got to be hurting too. I'm guessing they have a portable recharge station but without a power generator they can't keep going forever."

"I don't want to try to outlast them."

"We junk an awful lot of'm every day."

"And more pour out of the foothills. They hurt us a lot more with every trooper they take out of action than we do scrapping batches of them. A lot of men were injured when we crash landed here, we aren't going to win a battle of attrition with our reduced numbers."

"Enough you two." Aiden interrupted Jesse's retort. "This isn't useful. I gotta' go. If I learn anything uplifting that I can share, I'll let you all know. In the meantime," he looked at Longshot, "give our new general a chance before going full cynic, you insufferable pessimist."

The marksman just sighed.

"Cheer up you lot." Aiden got to his feet as he prepared to leave. "I know this is an oppressive atmosphere but we're survivors and our captain is a clever one. The Jedi too. You'll see." With that final statement the ARC trooper left the dining hall.

"I'm with Aiden and I'll put credits on the table that the General has a notion to get us out of this mess,” Jesse said.

"Not taking that bet. Either I'll lose or I won't get to enjoy my winnings." I'm off to go horizontal for a while." Longshot stood up from the bench. "You should too, Jesse, or are you actually going to eat those rehydrated vegetables you've been pushing around your bowl for half an hour?"

Jesse looked at the wilted greens and grimaced. "I'll be along."

"I'm off too." Breakout got up. "At least with the nightly ceasefires we get a chance at regular sleep."

"Sure, with the scavengers out there snacking on our brothers who didn't make it back. Better hope they don't decide the camp's a buffet."

Breakout glared at Longshot as they walked out. "Thanks a lot for that you son of a bantha. I'm going to sleep extra hard just to spite you."

"I swear that man thrives on negativity. Mark my words, he's enjoying our situation." Dustoff said as he watched the pair leave.

"Hey, Kix, you alright? You haven't said boo since you sat down."

Kix had been single-mindedly eating his soup throughout the conversation. "Just tired, Jesse and there's a lot on my mind."

Jesse compressed his lips into a thin line as he looked at his friend with concern. "You're doing all you can, Kix. All of the medics are."

"It's not enough. We have such a narrow window of time to reach the wounded and even before the fog arrives signals are distorted, unreliable. I can't find them fast enough!" That last part almost came out as a plea and Kix fell silent, looking down at his empty bowl.

Clone medics were famous for their devotion to the protection of their brothers and Kix took that further, refusing to abandon even the dead to scavengers if he could help it. Jesse felt uneasy. Kix, normally an easy going fellow with a light sense of humor also had a temper, complete with a tendency towards recklessness, provoked by the denial of what he saw as his sacred purpose. Ever since they'd become stranded, Jesse had seen that temper begin to smolder as Kix grew more frustrated and withdrawn.

"Hang in there. Aiden's right, I know it. We'll have an answer to this situation soon." Jesse wasn't much satisfied with his own words, but it was all he could think to say.

*****

    Kix, Dustoff and Jesse left the mess together. Jesse bid them a good night and headed off to his own improvised barracks. The two medics shared theirs and walked in that direction when a commotion caught their attention at the camp's perimeter. They hurried over to see what the fuss was and saw Flare next to a trooper who was sitting on the enshrouded ground. Flare spotted them and waved them over.

"I'm telling you I'm not wounded!"

"And I'm telling you I'm having a look anyway."

"What's going on here?" Kix knelt next to the trooper as he spoke to Flare.

"Hey, you're Bailey right? From Dusk company?" Dustoff leaned over to look at the trooper.

"Yeah, Dustoff, it's me. What's with all this flap?"

The trooper was a bit too irritated to be wholly cooperative, but Flare and Kix got his chest armor off. A hole from a blaster shot had burned through the center of the chest plate and a matching hole was found on the body glove worn beneath. There was not, however, a mark on the clone himself.

"Huh," Bailey examined the armor. "I don't remember even getting shot."

"You must have caught a stray from clean across the battlefield that hit you past its lethal range. You're incredibly lucky."

"Well great. Will you let me go now?"

"Bailey," Dustoff said, "you've been missing for over a day."

"What?!" The trooper looked at them with a dumbfounded expression. "That can't be right. I..." He fell silent and looked around in confusion. "How did I get here? I was all the way at the edge of the marsh last I remember. Then I was walking into the camp when Flare intercepted me."

"Hold still." Kix pulled out his pen light and shined it in the clone's eyes. "Pupil dilation response is normal. You feel any dizziness or head pain?"

"No. I feel fine."

"I think it would be best if you spent the night in the med tent under observation until we can scan you in the morning after the fog burns off."

"Uh, yes sir. Was I really missing that long?"

"Afraid so," answered Dustoff. "Here, I'll walk you over and explain to the medics on duty what's up."

"Thank you." The clone stood and allowed Dustoff to guide him away.

Flare shook his head as he watched them go. "That's the second one you know?"

"Second one what?" Kix asked.

"Oh, you don't know. I suppose you had your hands full with other things. Yesterday I had one walk out of the fog; Duke from your company. He'd also been MIA for a bit over a day. Same story, armor messed up, flesh untouched, no memory of what happened or how he got back to camp."

"That's incredibly strange."

"Yeah, you think maybe the fog is messing with their heads."

"Hmm...if that were the case you'd think it'd be more widespread. We're clones, our physiology is near identical."

"Ahh, true."

"Still, that's a concerning thought."

*****

    "See? What'd I say." Jesse said as he leaned over with a smile.

Kix nodded and returned his attention to the captain.

All of Torrent company had gathered outside of their jumble of living quarters to listen to their captain's address. Captain Rex stood on top of a storage crate to better be seen and heard. All around the camp, similar meetings were taking place.

"Scouts have succeeded in pinpointing the location where the droids gather to rush the battlefield. Their staging area is almost due east of our camp across the valley, within the foothills, about two hundred meters past the tree line. They begin to assemble there at zero five hundred hours, roughly an hour and a half before the fog begins to burn off. Tonight, all men fit to fight will be deploying into the field at midnight to take up positions in the hills near the droid's entry point. Meanwhile, a detachment will enter the forest and lay down every explosive we have to mine the area. Remote detonation won't work so everything will have to be hardwired. If successful, we'll blow a nice big hole in the center of their forces and then be in position to hit them from two sides."

A trooper raised his hand and the captain acknowledged him. "Sir, what about the fog beasts?"

Rex nodded. "Yes, the biggest potential complicating factor. We've had a few days to observe the behavior of these creatures, and while they certainly don't like droids, they haven't displayed any aggression towards us. In fact, they shy away if approached. I don't want anyone to put that to the test though. If you spot one, stay away from it. We do not want to provoke these things. Now, if all goes well, we will be bringing this little adventure to a close soon. With the droids annihilated, we won't have to worry about them coming up our backsides and we'll finally be able to leave this valley."

"So we're going to have to climb out of here after all?"

"I'm afraid that's how it looks," the captain affirmed. "The hope is once we get over the ridge we'll be able to send out a signal for rescue and a warning to stay clear of the airspace above the valley. With luck our remaining Walkers will still be in good enough condition to drag the LAATs, we'll load the wounded into them. Otherwise we'll have to split our forces and send back a rescue party once we make contact with the rest of our forces. Any further questions?"

Silence from the assembled soldiers.

"Good, we still have another day of fighting to get through. Keep your heads down. Give no ground but no heroics. We're in the home stretch. Survive."

"Sir yes, sir!" came the company's response.

*****

    Kix jogged along with the rest of Torrent company. To his right he could barely see a couple of his fellow troopers. Their white armor blending in with the fog. Each soldier wore a tiny light clipped to the back of his belt, the pinpoints of brightness being the only way they could keep track of each other in the pale soup. Still, it was too easy to feel isolated and the fog itself was disorienting with its restless movement.

No breeze what-so-ever. Chemical repulsion? Energy fields? Maybe I should try capturing some of it in a jar for later study.

To his left was blankness, the dark ground fading off into milky oblivion. Up and down the rolling hills he followed the lights. Far ahead Jesse, Aiden and the rest of the scout detachment were laying down the bombs. If all went to plan, the explosion alone would cripple the droids and make this a short battle. Best not to count on that. Kix hated the lack of visibility. He had a decent memory of what this side of the valley looked like but nothing seemed connected within the mist. Then he caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye.

Not far away, walking or perhaps floating, or even not moving at all was a silhouette. The head of it was in profile, impression of a long neck above a flickering dark mass. Kix gave it a brief look then moved to turn away when its hands came into sharp relief, and the body it carried. He could see the clear outline of clone armor, the distinct shape of the helmet.

"Drop him! Let him go you bone picking scavenger!" Kix shouted in an instant release of pent up anger. He raised his blaster rifle and fired.

He hadn't tried to hit it and the shot zipped past its head. It reacted by simply turning to look his way before retreating to vanish into the fog with its prize.

"No!" Kix ran a few steps before stopping. Staring as hard into the mist as he could, he saw nothing, nothing was there.

He took a long steadying breath and let it out, then turned to catch up with the army, and nothing was there.

They couldn't have moved that far away.

The medic broke into a run, down a hill and up another before stopping.  He worried that he'd gotten turned around.

Of all the foolish, cadet brained, stupid moves...

He looked around. There were no familiar shapes, no battlefield landmarks he could use to orient himself. Kix sighed and rested his rifle on his shoulder.

You had one order really and botched it right up. Captain'll be giving you a deserved chewing out. Maybe the fog really is messing with my head.

There was nothing to do but hold his position and wait. Once the sun burned off the fog he'd be able to see where he was and where he needed to go. Sighing again, Kix lowered himself to the ground, blaster resting across his knees. It would be an hour at least before the air cleared up.

And what would you have done if it'd attacked you? Died, that's what.

The clone shut his eyes, the fog's movement was making him a bit dizzy. Then they snapped open and he cast around nervously. He'd never been anywhere so completely silent and he drew his knees more tightly against his chest.

Time seemed as vague as everything else but Kix refused to check the chronometer on his wrist com. He just had to stay vigilant until the sun rose over the mountains. He began to build chemical formulas in his head to keep himself from staring mindlessly into the gloom. The minutes passed and he gradually noticed the fog was taking on a more golden hue. The sun was rising, not over the mountains yet but its light was coloring the mist.

A noise quickly brought him to his feet. He thought he heard something more and held his breath as he listened. It was the sound of a battle, muffled but still distinct. The clone turned and tilted his head, trying to determine a direction and felt confident enough to start moving. Cautiously he jogged down the hill and up the next. Upon cresting it the sounds unexpectedly became much louder and sharper. He could hear blaster fire and the sharp boom of the cannon mounted atop a Republic Walker. He paused and tried to peer ahead, not wanting to walk into enemy fire. Then he heard the telltale whistle of a falling Separatist tank shell. Frantically, Kix looked up, trying to determine its trajectory by the sound.

*****

    She was one of many who scoured the battlefield listening to the infrasound messages rumbled by the others. One sang out to her that something was found. She joined the other who stood over a pale form on the ground, a broken doll amongst flung debris and dirt. She tilted downward and straightened its limbs. Its plastoid shell was cracked and oozed blood, but it was otherwise promisingly intact. She sniffed it, then pulled off its head gear and pressed her muzzle to its face, her warm breath swirling the haze around it. No reciprocating breath emerged. She replaced its helmet and with delicate care, slid one hand beneath its back, the other beneath its legs and lifted it level with her sternum, high above the ground. She then turned and carried it away.

*****

    With a groan, Kix levered himself into a sitting position. A piece of his armor flaked off and he discovered the surface of the chest piece was covered in fracture lines. Something had certainly hit him hard. Cautiously he felt his ribs and twisted around a bit but felt no pain of injury. He looked for his blaster rifle, but found no sign of it.

Great, guess I'll just run up to a droid and punch it.

Kix pulled himself to his feet and peered around. The fog was as pale and silvery as ever, but he could finally see lights ahead. Strangely, he didn't hear any fighting and wondered how long he'd been knocked out. The medic felt his skull for lumps but again, everything seemed fine, nor did he feel dizzy. Carefully, Kix headed for the lights and was shocked to find himself walking into the Republic base. He stared in bewilderment as Flare came running up to him.

"Oh thank the stars, the Force, and whatever else! Shab your armor's been trashed. Why don't you have a quick seat right here and I'll get that off of you."

"Flare? What's going on? How...how did I get back to camp?"

Kix let the trooper push him down to sit on the ground as Flare helped him slip off his chest plate. The sentry gave him a worried look.

"Same as the other two. You don't remember a thing. You've been missing since before the final battle. That was yesterday morning. And not a scratch on you. Do you feel alright?"

Kix sat there a moment, processing what the trooper had said before he answered. "I'm fine. How'd the battle go?"

"By the book for once. Droids are wiped. The general decided it'd be best to send a team up to the mountain ridge and call for a rescue rather than try to cart everybody up there. So, we're just waiting. How about I help you to the medical tents. Dustoff and Jesse will be beside themselves."

"Yeah."

Kix didn't feel weak or unbalanced, but it was good to lean against Flare as they walked.