(...sniff...RIP, BOY...)
Blood hammering in his ears and the weight of his overheated Heavy Repeating Blaster on his back, Warchylde takes point, leading Zeta Squad towards the next point between them and RC-01/42. According to his HUD, there were readings that suggested a couple of temple guards nearby.
<No games> Warchylde thinks to himself, <Games is how Boy got taken out by a lucky Jedi di'kut. It won't happen again.>
He hears a shuffling sound in a nearby corridor, and swing his DC-17 in that direction.
"You see something, vo-o-o-aaaaggggggkkkkkhhhhh..." Nek pipes in before an invisible hand yanks him off his feet like a ragdoll and slams him into the wall to Warchylde's right, neck at an unnatural angle that could only mean one thing.
Warchylde and DogBite unleash a hail of blasterfire at a young, but unnaturally quick Jedi running their way. Ponytail flailing behind him, he sommersaults over the two commandos and tosses his whirling lightsaber at the cieling. It doesn't take long for them to reorient themselves at the target, Deeces spitting out hot fire.
"Fierfek, I didn't know they could do that," Warchylde says as the kid Jedi seems to absorb blasterfire with his bare hands, lightsaber cutting a large circle in the cieling above him.
"Just keep up the shots, I think we're wearing him down" DogBite counters.
As if he heard what DogBite said, the kid gives a wicked looking smile and, with a clenching fist and pulling wrist motion of his right hand, wrenches the remaining durasteel cut from the ceiling and flings both arms in their direction. The still smoking disk, edges glowing white hot hurtles in their direction. Warchylde dodges just in time to see the Jedi brat hurl himself up into the new opening, lightsaber and all. He swings his Deece at the hole, hoping to get a few shots off.
"Wait...let 'im go, vod'ika" DogBite sounds like he's in pain. Warchylde looks at him and sees him on the floor, clutching a bloody stump at the shoulder. The severed arm, and blood around him on the floor and on the durasteel disk tells the rest of the story.
"Osik, DogBite. We gotta get you to a medic." Warchylde can barely speak.
"No time, grab Boy, Nek, and my armor tallies. Take 'em to Kal'buir. Tell 'im I'm sorry." DogBite whispers.
"Fierfek, DogBite. You're not even that badly injured. We can get you new arms like mine and you'll be back in no time." Warchylde says.
"Look, vod'ika. You gotta get the holocron to Commander Appo, fast. Only way to pull that off is through who knows how many Jedi. I still gotta couple of thermal dets on me. That should be enough to slow 'em down." DogBite reaches into his pouch for the holocron and Boy's armor tally, and removes his tally, placing them into Warchylde's hands.
"Fierfek, vod. Y'know Kal'buir's gonna kill me for letting you guys get killed. Then he's gonna have a med droid bring me back to life, just so he can watch Rav kill me." Warchylde pockets the holocron and Dogbite and Boy's tallies.
"Hurry up, Private. You got a wounded Commando counting on you. That's an order." DogBite gets up and wraps his shoulder, as Warchylde grabs Nek's armor tally. DogBite grabs a few more explosives, from Nek's body, then catches Warchylde staring at him.
"P for Plenty, Vod'ika." DogBite says.
"And I'm the crazy sheb?" Warchylde asks mockingly.
"Didn't I say move? Go. Now." DogBite says.
"Yessir," Warchylde switches back to his HRB, feeling the ghostly weight of his squadmate's armor tallies, and runs off in search of RC-01/42...
"Kom'rk tsad droten troch nyn ures adenn, Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu."
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