Only Pawns are Left Behind -- Bothuwai [Flashback]

[Rev]

"They're coming back right..? They're coming back... Right? Right..?"

Dak looked over at Roland, their explosives specialist was beginning to breakdown it seemed. The Lance Corporal's eyes would turn from Roland to the Lieutenant, the man in charge.

"Yeah, they're coming back Roland. Calm the hell down, we just need to get to rendezvous point Delta."

"..but they told us to find our own way out! They aren't coming back!"

"Calm the f-ck down, Corporal!"

The lieutenant raised his gun as if to slam the stock into his subordinate's face. Roland naturally covered his face and took in a few deep breaths, finally relaxing.

"We dont need anyone out of focus while we're behind enemy lines... God knows what else is out here."

Doc looked out into the distance where he caught some movement. They had seen odd creatures from their scouting position all day, even a few armored soldiers; they seemed out of place though. Most of them dropped back to wherever they had come from or picked up by dropships to be taken elsewhere. Xirrsk's eyes would shift from treeline to Vos'ke, a rather large Trandoshan he'd made company with long before this mission.

"Vo, what do you think about this?"

The large Trando simply looked over at Dak and smirked to the best extent the Lance Corporal could read.

"..We're here, let's get through it."

Dak couldn't help but nod, his eyes staring forward and constantly scanning for any movement just as each of them had been trained. He was glad the support man in Vos'ke was standing next to him, it offered some sense of.. comfort.

"Alpha! Assemble on that cliff wall!"

The lieutenant called out pointing at a nearby cliff that bottlenecked further inward. They were merely headed west, trying to find the nearest town to commandeer a ship. All in hopes of getting off, in hopes of surviving..

 

[Mars]

Bothawui.*

The planet was the site of the most recent Hutt victory, a dominant one in the oribital space station if the preliminary reports were correct and a one-sided massacre where the Taung warriors had been assigned. Oddly enough, one of the leaders of the Mandalorians in this battle was a Near Human hybrid. Make no mistake however, the A'den clan leader was as skilled as any Taung. The enemy had broken before his onslaught, dozens dead by his hand alone in the last two days alone, his current squad a kill team loaded up to eliminate any Republic stragglers.*

Vincent's beskar plated fist came up, stopping the ten man squad behind him in their tracks. They stalked a tree line near the mouth of a valley flanked by cliffsides. The group was nigh-invisable in the dense foliage and shadow of the trees, all armed with the same rifles as their steel-nerved leader.*

"Four man Republic squad, straight ahead." No noise escaped the helmet of the CO, the whisper coming clearly across an internal com in the beskar brainbuckets. His HUD showed a local map, the valley they were entering a dead end, both metaphorically and literally.*

"Let them enter, maintain striking distance, don't alert them. If contact is made, wipe them out."*

*

 

[Rev]

The group began their slow walk into the bottleneck, each of the group looking upward and in their blind areas as they moved. It was safe to say they were stuck between a hard place and... nothing. Dak's communication began to whine as it picked up something, only for a moment though. Looking downward at the equipment his eyes surveyed the foliage as if hoping to find something. The radio was practically useless though, especially since they were left behind; that was some of the first noise he'd heard and it was mere squeaks.

"I have a bad feeling about this..."

Huffing in a breath of the humid air, Dak couldn't help but look to the lieutenant; something told him they weren't making it out of this alive. It wasn't the first time the feeling had made its way into the teams Medic's mind, so just as he had tens of times before; he pushed the thought aside.

"..Yeah, well Doc, you always have a bad feeling.."

The group laughed as they came into a clearing. Pointing at a cross section where two trees had fallen, it made a great barricade. The group would settle into the small cover zone as Roland began shuffling through tens of maps. The younger man's hands shook with fear as they ran from coordinate to coordinate, his mind not exactly in the right place.

"Roland, take a breath... Get us the hell outta here."

Dak looked to Vo and shook his head. Roland was a Republic Commando, it was his first real combat mission up to this point, but it was what the man trained for. He would shake his head before peeking out from his cover to look to the east, some foliage would move abruptly causing his eyes to focus on the heavy brush. His eyes frantically scanned only to come up with nothing, paranoia was one of the biggest things on the battlefield... Especially when you were nearly alone.

"A-alright.. We have to head back where we came from... There's a fork to the North to take... That'll take us to a village."

"You mean that fork I told us to turn right on?"

"Yeah... That one."

The lieutenant barked out in a fit of rage for a moment only to stand up from the cover. Looking out over the bottle neck his eyes would look over the cliffs before finally turning to face his squad.

"You heard the man... back to the fork."

 

[Mars]

The Taung kill team approached the edge of the treeline, staying just inside the dense foliage that provided cover. They spread out, creating a semi-circle around the mouth of the dead-end valley the Republic leftovers had just entered. Vincent was the middle of the circle and directly in front of the exit.

"Clear to engage. Oya!"

The order came across the internal coms crisp and clear, the Taung surronding their leader knew now to shoot what moved. The opposing soldiers had taken cover behind a pair of downed trees about two hundred yards from Vincents position, well within the range of his squads battle rifles, and just outside the range of the underbarrel launchers. The red dot sights of the Mandalorians floated downrange looking for any movement near the enemy baricade.

"You heard the man. Back to the fork.." said the CO.

"Bang bang" said three Mandalorian rifles as he stood.

Death was hurtling towards the lieutenant at thirty five hundred feet per second from three different angles, outside of Force Sensitivity, he was a dead man. The rest of the squad kept rifles trained on the barricade, if anyone looked to sprint away from the tree's cover, they'd be met by a hail of rifle fire. If they somehow managed to escape the valley and get past the range of the grenade launchers, they'd be in close combat with one of the most skilled Mandalorian fighters alive.

 

[Rev]

Dak began to stand when the sounds of multiple rifles cried out. The high screeches immediately brought the Medic back down behind cover, his weapon pointed in the direction of the shots. Out of the corner of his eyes he managed to spot the Lieutenant. The man was limp, multiple holes forced into his body and any signs of life were more than gone..

The soldier inside him to stay put, find the enemy, and kill it. However, the medic within him said to spring outward and save their leader's life. Dak's immediate reaction was just that, he pushed off the log only to feel a hand rip him back down to the ground, Vos'ke.

"..Dont be a fool. He's lost."

The giant lizard propped back up into position and began returning fire at the Taung. The forces gave away their position all firing at once like that and Vos'ke was more than able to spot a few of their positions and rain down heavy repeater fire upon them. Meanwhile Roland peeked out occasionally from his position and fired off a rocket in the previous blaster fires positions. With any luck he'd get one or two, but from his shaking Dak assumed it would alter his accuracy.

Dak would finally rise to his feet, staying low and maintaining a postured crouch he'd level his gun against the tree. Aiming down sight he was able to spot one of the warriors and ring off a volley of shots at his center mass. His hopes were just to take the man out of the fight so they could perhaps slip out. However, the problem was, they had the only exit blocked off...

"What's the plan?"

Dak yelled out to the other to hoping to get an answer. He was however met with no words and only the continued nerves of Roland and focus of Vos'ke. His trigger finger continued to ring out shots until the magazine cried out at being dry. Dropping the large mag he began the reloading procedure when a sound that never became familiar filled his ears. Lead to flesh. Turning to Vos'ke he stared for a moment at his downed friend, hit just below the right shoulder. Dropping the weapon he quickly hopped over to the downed Trandoshan, pulling out various materials from his bag and waistband.

"Roland cover us!"

The rookie combatant simply nodded, his launcher continuing to cry out small explosives every few moments.

"Dammit..Dammit.."

Daks hands shuffled as he worked over his friends chest, first covering the wound in refined kolto powder.

"They're moving in Doc! I could use some backup..!"

Xirrsk's hands continued to move, grabbing his kolto foam injector and slamming it into the wound. With a push of the trigger it'd fill his friends chest with the healing product and also stop bleeding. The coughing that erupted from the lizards mouth followed by blood was no good sign; he was dying... Taking his friends hand he gave the scaly flesh one final squeeze before huffing in a breath of the air. It wouldn't be long...

 

[Mars]

Perfection.

The three rounds tore apart the Republic officer without any excess drama, his body hitting the floor with a soft thud as the durasteel rounds tore into his throat and face. Heavy repeater blaster rounds flew into the forrest, cutting through foliage and felling a small tree but failing to make contact with any of the Beskar plated troopers. Rocket rounds burst into trees above them, each seemingly randomly fired. These men lacked the professionalism of true warriors.

Vincent took his time in waiting for the Trandoshan to show himself. Before long the lizard over-extended his cover, standing just a bit too tall, and opening himself up to the burst of railgun fire. One round skitted across his arm and the other embedded into his right shoulder. Two down, two to go.

"Advance!"

The order to move barked across the coms, four of the soldiers going from kneeling to standing and begining their sprint to the mouth of the valley.

"Suppressive fire!"

The forty-five round magazines of the remaining six Mandalorians were dumped out towards the remaining Republic soldiers, right up the gut of the valley and keeping the soldiers pinned. The other Taung had moved into proper grenade launcher range.

The pressure was on, but pressure makes diamonds.

 

[Rev]

Dak had made way back to his rifle, gripping it tightly in his hands and finally slamming the magazine into place he had first tried at. Peaking up from his cover his eyes focused on two crouched men. His eyes immediately fixated on their armor, it was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Then as if commanded to do so they each stood in unison and began a charge.

"Roland, they're charging!"

Xirrsk would drop his gun and instead pick up the heavier weapon of Vos'. The support weapon was heavier than he was used to, but packed the punch he knew his gun could never compensate for. Pointing to the left flank he shouted to the younger commando.

"Break off, fire a shell at their point!"

Roland would jump from cover and begin his strafe. As he readied the grenade launcher his left shoulder was caught with a slug, hurling his momentum upward and to the left as well. The round he'd fire would instead go low due to over compensation, instead of taking the four men out it merely fired into the dirt. The outcome however was a dirt cloud like unlike most, offering brief cover to the Medic of the falling squad.

Jumping from his cover his hands were barely able to hold onto the heavy repeating blaster. As his feet came in contact with the ground an explosion erupted in front of him. The black smoke blocked his vision from the four men that were once there moments ago, and his ears were filled with more gunshots; Roland going down. His eyes looked to where he last remembered the armored men to be and simply pulled down on the heavy trigger. With an eruption of sound and power beams of blaster fire sailed through the air, Dak's feet carrying him behind them. Kneeling as he broke through the smoke his eyes stared forward, taking in each of the Taung warriors that still stood straight up and fired the plasma at their chests and torso.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

Dak's chest bellowed out the rage it held in one final cry as the heavy weapon began to click with lack of life. The heavy pack it held was empty, the gatlin function merely turning and offering the intimidating sound to the incoming attackers. One round would cry out from the distance catching Xirrsk in his left shoulder, nearly where the socket met humorous. His body was forced to drop the weapon and recoil backwards in a heap of disgruntled flesh. His chest thumping as the thoughts of his life began to fill mind; this isn't how he wanted to go...

 

[Mars]

A grin spread across Vincent's face as the boy in charge of explosives was sent off his feet by slug rounds, only to get wiped from existance by a grenade round. Smoke and dust clouded vision and for a moment the silence was only broken by the silent thud of footsteps.

And then there was one.

The remaining Republic soldier, a medic by the looks of it, came charging through the smoke and dust and tore two of his soldiers to pieces with some form of gatling repeater. The first few blaster rounds were absorbed by the Beskar plating but before long the heavier stopping power of the repeater became evident as it cracked. His chest was torn to pieces and he dropped dead on the spot, the man next to him suffering the same fate seconds after. A Taung from the treeline fired the round that downed the mad man.

"Save that one. He fought well."

"Bah, he's a hu-"

"Watch how you finish that sentance ori'vod"

"Yes, sir."

The squad medic went to work keeping the soldier alive and sedated, before long he had him stable and had prevented the onset of shock. However, shortly after, he blasted the man in the face with a mean right hand, knocking him out.

"Back to base, let's move."

The Mandalorian camp was a small spartan base, just basic tents and bedrolls for the hardened warriors. A small campfire burned in the middle, they deposited the bound prisoner of war next to that as they unwinded from the quick battle. Vincent removed his helmet and placed it next to his bedroll alongside his rifle, leaving his beskad and handgun on his person, before stepping over to the soldier.

"You awake soldier?"

 

[Rev]

Daks last memory was getting an injection. Looking at the masked man before him he reached out in the form of a whisper only to be smashed in the face with the force of a fist. His cheek bone nearly shattered at the impact, if it wasn't for years of republic given meals filled with the nutrients and vitamins necessary, there was no telling what would have been left of his face.

"AHHHHHHH!!"

His mind was a cloud of what had happened, in an almost dream. He was running outward, firing the heavy weapon before finally being downed. It was that instant he was hit with a round he woke up to a cold sweat. Trying to rise from his position the bindings across his biceps and wrist, even forehead prevented him to do so. Jolting against the bindings he tried to escape, but to no avail; he was captured.

"You awake soldier?"

The voice was foreign to him, but the tongue more than familiar. Whatever squad it was that had attacked him, they were far better trained and were even to some extent, native to galactic basic. Deciding it best to relax as opposed to letting aggression explode outward he let his training set in.

"Yes... ...Sir.? ...Who am I speaking to?"

His cheek and jaw still hurt from the hit to the face. His whole body ached as the rest of it tried to repair the injury to his left shoulder, it could be weeks before he was back to his old self; but his mind was still in tact, the most important aspect of the soldier. Taking in a deep breath he'd request something most would fear asking, to be more comfortable.

"..If I may.. request, the forehead binding. May it be removed?"

It allowed him to only stare at the top of the tent, he understood the purpose of it, but he wasn't going anywhere with it undone. Taking in a deep breath he tried to relax the nerves that were building in his body and mind; there was no telling what was going to happen to him.

 

[Mars]

"That can be done, only the head restraint though."*

A sharp click accompanied the crackle of the small campfire as the magnetic lock disengaged. Vincent threw a few more sticks onto the fire and removed a small package from his larger rucksack full of supplies for the hunt. Removing one of his beskad, he quickly went to work opening the durasteel container and picking a bit of the preservative laden meat within. The glow of the fire gave his gunmetal armor and face a bit of a softer apperancr then usual.*

"What were you doing out there when we found you?"*

The question was rather blunt, just to answer Vincent's curiosity more so then uncover some top secret info. This one had shown some honor out in the field of battle today, hell, killing a single Taung was difficult enough, let alone a pair of the veterans on this team. The soft breeze flowing through the clearing ran smoothly over Vin's mostly shaved head.*

"Maybe if you're good, I'll let you survive this."*

((OOC: Sorry it's so short, posting from my phone.)

 

[Rev]

Dak layed restraint on what felt like a basic cot, but the bindings were far advanced. Eyes scanning over the tent and environment as the magnetic lock came undone he found something very odd. The man before him was clad in something... advanced, beyond anything he'd ever seen. Yet he was nearly co-existing with the environment, taking it in and using it unlike many other cultures of planets.. It'd been almost years since Xirrsk had seen a fire, since he was a boy on Alderaan..

"What were we doing?"

He repeated the question to himself almost to take it in, a sharp pain riding throughout his torso still from the recent wound. He'd breath in deeply and exhale to a sharp cough before continuing.

"..Trying to find a ship.."

He thought back to Vos'ke, the giant lizard laying limp next to him; dead from the advanced slug.

"The Republic..."

His voice surged with a hint of anger at the memory of their final commands.

"Eagle Command to Darksky Leader.. LZ compromized... Rendezvous Point Echo 3-2... [Lost Transmission]"

The rendezvous point "Echo 3-2" was code for mission failure. All fronts were failed and no help was coming, it was their job to get out, and they failed at that...

"..left us here. We were to escape via domestic shuttle..."

Dak wasn't quite sure why he was telling him this, it was supposed to be "classified" information. However, all his friends were dead, the Republic abandoned him, and to them.. he was dead. He might as well be dead, everything he knew was... lost.

"Our squad was... less than prepared."

He set his head back on the rather firm pillow and closed his eyes if only for a second. His body ached and he felt it was just the beginning to the pain he had before him. Surviving what he had just been through was perhaps the last thing he wanted..

 

[Mars]

"That much is obvious, soldier. We tore you apart. Put up a better fight then those in the cities though, that was a masscre."

The fire crackled and popped a few feet from the heavily armored soldier. Even if the Republic medic wanted to try anything, he'd have a hell of a hard time penetrating the heavy Beskar armor of the Mandalorian Al'verde. He'd eaten most of the food by this point, but there was a bite or two left. Vin clicked another button, releasing the man's torso and arms before tossing him the small container and a fork.

"Here, eat this. You'll be keeping pace with us for the next few days untill we return to the main base."

Vincent's mind quickly flashed back to the Mandalorian main stronghold on the planet, a former hangar for the Bothawui military. Over twenty thousand over the elite Taung soldiers were stationed there, the losses from the fighting in the streets numbering around a hundred or so at most. Some two hundred of the mighty basilisk war droids were lying in wait, their air-to-ground close range support had proved to be a difference maker in large battles, the sight of the heavily armed and armored floating tanks sending their opponents fleeing shortly before a volley of laser and missle fire. The beauty of Mandalorian technology lied it it's effectiveness.

"What's your name soldier? You have any skills that
stand out, any reason for me to keep you around?"

Not that he planned to kill him just yet, but people seemed to find things they're really good at when their life is on the line. The poor POW still had to pass through the battle circle in order to live through this ordeal, but Vincent figured he'd buy him some time to recover from the gunshot wound to keep things interesting.

 

[Rev]

Dak chose to ignore the man's comment about the obviousness of their superiority. He had heard of the Taung in passing, but never stood face to face with one. It was as if their body bled for respect and honor, craving it, demanding it. His mind would snap back to attention as the remaining bindings detached from their magnetic holds. Leaning upwards a sharp pain shot through his chest and arm, the bullet had been removed but his arm far from treated.

"Thank you, Sir..."

He wasn't quite sure what to address the stranger as. He wasn't even sure who or what he was for that matter, he was the enemy.. kind of. This fellow before him seemed to be the only thing holding back the others from tearing him apart, he seemed different from the others. As he scooped some of the rather poorly tasting ration into his mouth a foggy haze began to fill his eyes as the freckles of distortion filled his sight. He was getting rather dizzy, an effect he'd swipe away with a head shake.

"..Doc... Dak Xirrsk.."

He paused only briefly to sip some of the juices into his mouth that the meat left behind, his mouth felt as if it were filled with chalk. Swallowing down the little liquid he had managed to pool inward he'd continue, still unsure why he so easily talked; perhaps he was drugged?

"..I'm not bad with a pistol, excelled in anatomy.. Medic since I was put into the Republic."

Dak swang his legs off from the cot letting them come down hard against the dried earth below. He'd hunch at the back his elbows resting on his knees while his face fell into his hands; he was thinking. Then without thinking he thought out loud, the words coming outward as barely a whisper.

"I'd of rather died with those men..."

 

[Mars]

"Ah, a doctor, I see. Perhaps you'll prove useful yet soldier, we've got a medic already, but having two never hurts."

Vin probably wouldn't let Dak operate on anyone aside himself, and only if the shit really was hitting the fan, but better him then noone else. He watched the man sip down the ration, it wasn't exactly a gourmet meal but it was better then most military rations and kept ya in the fight and full.

"I'd of rather died with those men..."

Vincent heard him as soon as he said it, and without thinking began to laugh bitterly.

"That can be arranged as well, if you prefer to die rather then learn the true arts of war. Thoughts like that are why Bothawui fell so easy. If the whole Republic military is as pathetic as your squad then this war won't last very long. Dishonorable fools."

His voice carried a tone of disgust at the thought of prefering death without an impact then being able to live and become something much greater then he was. To think, Vincent had considered training this one to be a Mandalorian had he survived the battle circles. Now, if he lived, he could expect slavery at best, being forced to carry around the crates of ammo and supplies. He'd have to be damn impressive in the upcoming trials to re-earn any sense of honor in Vin's eyes. The Mandalorian leader stood a few feet from his new captive.

"Stand up."

 

[Rev]

Dak would listen intently to the man before him. He imagined him to be some sort of officer within the battalion or in some way high ranking; he had control. He was beginning to find it odd that he was in a sense looked at as an equal in this soldier's eyes, yet was still labeled a captive. The man spoke as if Dak had joined them, become a traitor to the Republic.. Had he?

The laughter came to him as no surprise. His soft chuckle brought embarrassment down not just upon him, but those men that had fallen alongside himself. Anger filled the Medic, a man who usually carried a calm demeanor, an anger that tensed up nearly all his muscles as he stared into the palms of his hands. Clenching his hands into fists as he was commanded to stand he'd do so. His eyes stared blankly forward taking in the strangers face at the jawline before looking up only slightly to match eye contact. Slowly taking in a breath he wasn't sure what the next command would be or if he was simply being fed so he wouldn't pass on an empty stomach.

 

[Mars]

"Ke'sush!"

The words weren't all that loud, but it was clear by the actions following that they held tremendous weight in Mando'a. Those that remained of the kill-team immediatly stood at attention, their posture perfect and rifles held across their bodies.

"Pack up, we're moving."

The remaining seven Taung soldiers instantly went to work consolodating the camp down into easily carried, small packages that attached to form a single larger one through quick locks. Vincent stepped over to his bedroll and attached his helmet, grabbing his own rifle and slinging it before returning to the medic. His cold stare could have broken the devil himself.

"You, Republic soldier, shall carry that and keep pace. The consequences of making it so one of my men have to will not be worth it, I guarentee that."

The march would be nearly five hours straight of high-paced movement through dense foliage, not easy for most anyone shy of elite and well-conditioned soldiers prepared to do so. It'd get them only a fraction of the way to the main base, but it'd serve as a small precusor as to what was ahead of the former Republic medic.

 

[Rev]

Those words were foreign tongue to a man who spoke many. He tried to dissect the language within his mind piecing together various dialects and languages from various worlds to make one; nothing came to mind. The soldier's reactions were enough to say it was an equivalent to "attention", at least that was his assumption for now.

Bending down his eyes traced over his own pack, it contained few personal belongings, but what it did contain was various fixes for his own wounds. Reaching outward he scooped the bag over his shoulder and gave it a squeeze to assure it was secured. As the leader of the group began to explain his punishment he put it aside, assuming the walk would be only a few kilometers at best. He was no man built for strength, but what he lacked in muscle he made up in brain and willpower.

The large sack would finally find its way onto the soldiers back, it was light at first, but each step seemed to make it heavier. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into miles, and miles turned into hours. Every step burned more than the last, aches coursed through the slaves body at each motion, if it wasn't the pain from his wounds it was strain from the walk.

"..Wa-water..?"

His throat and mouth were dry with fatigue due to dehydration. His body had been constantly at work for the past hours, working not on just keeping the weight balanced but to maintain his own bearings. As he requested the necessity his jaw was smashed in to his surprise.

"CRACK!!"

The pain that flowed through Dak's jaw and cheek was enough to drop him where he stood. Vibrations recoiled throughout his gums and facial muscles, his body curled up as he protected his face against the forest bed. That same dizziness would rush through his mind as stars developed against the natural greens and browns.

With a push he was able to rise to a knee, using it to support not just his weight, but still the heavy sack. A mouthful of spit and blood would follow as he was finally able to rise to his feet with only a slight wobble. Clenching his teeth down sharply against one another brought yet another shockwave through his face; one he'd do his best to ignore. Leaning against a tree his eyes went skyward, wondering what had happened if the Republic hadn't left them, if he wasn't abandoned to slavery...

 

[Mars]

The sharp crack of beskar on face probably was rather sick sounding, precisely how it should sound, but not pleasent either way. Vincent stopped and turned around to see the squads only rookie laying into the prisoner of war, the new soldier unleashing his pent up aggression from being the one picked on for the last few months. An honorable soldier didn't beat his captives for no reason, especially one who'd proven capable in combat and was just asking for water on what was likely his first forced march.

What's that old saying, "an eye for an eye"?

The Mandalorian CO abrubtly turned around and unslung his rifle, pushing it into the chest of one of the other soldiers as he stalked towards his oblivious target. The young Taung stood triumphant over the fallen Republic medic and took the opportunity to hit the man again and again. Dak slumped against a nearby tree as Vin reached his desired range.

The younger Taung, Kaz, felt himself be spun around into a harsh right cross as the squad leader threw his first strike, landing hard just beneth the rookie soldier's right eye. Vincent's left hand wrapped firmly behind the base of Kaz's skull, wrapping up a tight clinch as he delievered three or four uppercuts to the chin of the suprised fool before seperating a bit and launching a massive overhand right that sent Kaz into a crumpled heap on the floor. Vin exhaled softly over the semi-concious Taung.

"If you'd like to beat the prisoner, be prepared to take one yourself. We've all had to carry that load before, it's not something I haven't had you do in the past, not once before today have I outright beaten you out of turn, keep this in mind as we move forward."

The words were stern and contained a certain edge to them, the man meant exactly what he said. He took a few steps walking to the downed medic, unsure of his level of conciousness, and tossed a cantein filled with water a few inches from his leg.

"Drink up."

 

[Rev]

His thoughts came to as a familiar sound filled the air, hand to hand combat. Raising his eyes to view the scuffle that had erupted it was then the blurred vision of his right eye became apparent. If it weren't for his left eyes adjusting he'd be blind to the fight, his retina still adjusting to the blow it had taken while his pupils adjusted to the change in light. After a few moments there was a victor, the leader again coming to his "rescue."

"Drink up."

His eyes fell to the grass where the canteen lay, the swelling of his eye socket becoming more obvious as seconds passed. Bending down slower than he had hoped his body ached, yet it longed for the liquid within the small metallic can. Clasping it firmly within his palm his nails dug into the dense tin. His body rose and with it did the drink, his free hand working on the cap that contained the luke warm refreshment.

The water was different. Were they a different species? Was he even drinking water? Dak's mind raced as his body thirsted for more of the odd flavored liquid. Lowering the bottle from his lips his mind began to wonder if he was drugged, perhaps the water had something in it?

"You're an idiot.. drinking enemy water? ...Why? Why are you trying to stay alive?"

He'd take another long sip off the canteen before reaching out to hand it back to Vincent. If he didn't take it he'd simply clip it back to his belt and save what little was left.

"..He drank out if.. it's not drugged... Get out of your head, Dak.."

His enemy was becoming more himself now than the Taung, battling not only being captured, but being the only surviving member of his squad, and possible human, in star systems..

His back would press off from the tree, his knees buckling some at the weight he still carried but ready to move regardless. Holding his position in the center of the squad he prepared to move out, unsure where the next stop would be for the group.

"..What the hell are you getting yourself into?"

 

[Mars]

Kaz stumbled his way back to his feet after spending a moment or so on the floor, his brain not entirely settled and his vision a bit foggy still. The rest of the squad stared blankly on as their leader took the cantein back and took a quick swig, draining it of its remaining contents and putting it back into a pouch on his hip. The squad leader spoke again as he passed Dak.

"You're resilient, I'll give you that much. Toughness goes a long way."

Vincent took his rifle back from the Taung he gave it to before teaching Kaz a lesson and returned to the middle of the squad. They were almost at their destination for the night, a smaller scout camp set up about twenty kilometers outside the main base.

"Move."

---

The Mandalorian scout camp consisted of about thirty Taung scout soldiers. Most of them wore what would be medium armor by the standards of other societies and carried standard assault weaponry. From the Taung perspective, they wore light armor and were armed with lighter and quieter weapons then the standard soldiers. Each carried small stealth generators to hide them from view if needed but that only lasted a short while as technology advanced.

Vincent was given a heroes welcome upon entry into camp. Aside his different species, the Taung considered him almost the perfect Mandalorian soldier. Strong willed, excellent leadership and textbook personal ability, he was the ultimate goal of a society bred for war.

"A'den! Welcome back. I hope hunting went well." Shouted a man from a high guard tower, armored up and equiped with some kind of sniper's rifle.

"Aye, ori'vod, excellent. My squad notched nearly thirty kills. No Republic scum for thirty kilometers to the north. We brought back this one." He said, motioning with his hand to Dak as he did so. "Very tough, killed two of my finest with some repeater cannon. We'll see how he fares later tonight however."

The two veteran soldiers shared a brief laugh before the kill team and their captive headed into the small camp. Much like the collapseable camp Dak was currently carrying, this camp was rather spartan in features, small campfires dotted the hundred meter mini-camp, but on a slightly larger scale, with permenant buildings acting as the 'tents'. As they entered, Vincent dismissed the squad with a curt command and gave Kaz a playful slap across the back of his helmet after talking to him privately for a moment. Shortly after he turned to speak to Dak, removing his helmet as he slung his rifle.

"You have a long night ahead of you. I'll let you choose our next course of action soldier. Food and water, further medical treatment, or a brief nap?"