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Cannons boomed, blasters fired, comms crackled, and men shouted to be heard over the noise of it all, but Jesse only half noticed the din. He was so used to the sounds of combat that all of it faded to a dull roar on the edge of his senses, his ears only piqued to hear the important things.
One of those important things was crouched on the ground right behind him.
“How’re we doing, Kix?” he called over his shoulder, keeping his voice light. He risked a quick glance back after taking down another droid, but the situation looked unchanged.
“I’m doing my best,” Kix grunted. Then he looked up and shot Jesse a quick smirk. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle a few clankers on your own, or are you losing your touch?”
“Oh please, I can do this in my sleep; I was just trying to be polite”
“Well be polite later and focus on covering us so I can get our vod patched up.” Kix turned his attention back to the trooper laid out on the ground before him. “Don’t worry, vod, gonna get you patched up nice and quick.”
“Yeah, and then you’ll be left to his tender mercies when he meets you back in the med bay.” Jesse punctuated his quip with two quick blaster shots, each one taking out an advancing droid.
The trooper on the ground gave a short but pained laugh and spat up some blood. “Oh no, anything…but that. I’ve heard…stories.” He coughed and wheezed in between words.
“You shut up or I’m gonna cut your stim access when you’re on your feet again.” Kix shook his finger for emphasis but the trooper just wheezed out another laugh.
Jesse shook his head as he took down another droid. The wounded trooper was clearly a shiny, and underneath the veneer of easy banter Jesse could tell he was scared. The poor man had taken a blaster bolt right to the gut. It looked like his armor had absorbed some of the shot but there was still plenty of blood. Kix was working as fast as he could with that sort of grim determination he wore when working with a thin layer of jovial sarcasm to keep his patients at ease. But under that, Jesse could sense something else–anxiety.
Medicine was his riduur’s domain but Jesse knew enough about battlefield injuries to know this was a bad one. The shiny was still conscious enough to keep a brave face but he was still losing blood fast, and while Kix scrambled to do what he could that was only so much when they were out in the field. All they could do was hang on until the evacuation shuttle got there, so in the meantime Jesse continued to take shot after shot at the advancing line of B-1s.
“Kriff!”
Jesse could hear the panic in Kix’s voice and chanced another look back.
“I’m losing him!” Kix shouted, pained eyes meeting Jesse’s for half a second before returning to his charge. “Come on, vod, stay with me now. Just hold on a little longer and we’ll have you back safe and sound on the ship. Keep your eyes open, just like that.”
Helmet comms crackled to life. “Did you hear that?” Jesse asked. “Evac is on its way, eta five minutes.” If Kix said anything in reply it was lost under the cacophony of a sudden surge of cannon fire. “Kix?” he called again when his voice was once more audible. “Kix, did you hear that? Five minutes!”
Only silence met his words, then Kix said flatly, “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late, he’s gone.”
“Kark,” Jesse swore with feeling.
“There’s nothing more I can do.” Kix remained crouched over the body for another moment, then got to his feet, his tone brisk and business-like. “Come on, the evac shuttle is almost here. Cover me while I round up the other wounded so we can get them out of here.”
“Got it.” Before they set off, Jesse grabbed Kix’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Hey. You did everything you could for him.”
“I know,” Kix said. “Now come on, let’s go.” He flashed a brief smile at Jesse before heading back into the fray.
Jesse flashed one in turn but as soon as Kix moved out of sight his face fell. He knew that look. His riduur could fool most people but Jesse could tell just how brittle Kix’s smile was. It was the same expression he wore when trying to reassure the dying or to ward off the prying vod, the expression he always wore when someone died under his care. His calm reassurance that everything was fine fooled most, but Jesse saw right through it. Death may have been an inevitability in war but each one lay heavy on Kix’s shoulders.
He let Kix off the hook for now–they had other things to focus on–but as soon as the battle ended and the carnage cleared, he resolved to corner the man the first chance he got.
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That chance ended up not being until well into the night. The fighting had slogged on for hours until they finally managed to break the Separatists’ ranks and send them retreating back to their base. Then there had been plenty of work to do: camp to set up, defenses to set, strategies to plan, a quick moment to grab some rations, and then of course Jesse had gotten stuck with the first watch. But as soon as he was relieved, he made a beeline right for the med tent. He knew Kix would be inside.
And sure enough, there he was. With a jaw-cracking yawn Jesse opened the tent’s flap and strode past the lines of cots filled with the wounded. All were either asleep or drugged out so the tent was quiet. Kix sat on a supply crate in the closest thing to an office one could manage in the field, the crate next to him littered with datapads like a makeshift desk. He was pouring over the one in his hands with a slight frown as if in deep concentration but drooping eyelids gave his fatigue away.
“Kix’ika,” Jesse called softly, kneeling in front of the other man. Kix made a quiet noise of acknowledgement but didn’t look up from the datapad. Jesse sighed. It was gonna be like this. He placed his hand on top of the pad and gently pushed it down. “Kix’ika,” he tried again, “look at me.”
His riduur looked exhausted. Dark circles framed bloodshot eyes and Jesse wasn’t sure how Kix had managed to stay upright. He pressed his free hand to Kix’s cheek and just held it there in silence, waiting for Kix to speak.
“Did you know he didn’t have a name?” Kix finally managed. “He’d never been in the field before and died on his first day out. I know, I know, it happens all the time, and you’d think I’d be used to it by now, that it wouldn’t bother me, but it does.” The words began to pour out of him. “Somehow, he was our only casualty today; there were some major injuries here and there but they all pulled through. And that’s a good thing. I should be happy with that, right? But I can’t stop thinking about it, how close we got to saving him. The transport was right karking there. I should’ve done more, should’ve gotten there sooner, should’ve been better supplied, something, anything, and he might still be alive.
“I checked his file. He was the only one of his batchmates who got assigned to the 501st. Joined right before we shipped out. I don’t know if he had any friends in his unit. I don’t know if anyone will realize he’s gone or even remember him. And it’s not like we can add him to the remembrance when we don’t even have a name to add. He’s gone and no one will even realize.”
Jesse had stayed silent, giving Kix the chance to get it all out. Finally, Kix grew quiet. Jesse lifted his hand from the datapad and used it to cup Kix’s other cheek, cradling his riduur’s face between his hands. “Hey,” he started, “it’s ok. You did everything you could. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you did, and that matters. And I know you’re worried no one will even remember or care, but that’s not true. We will. Even if everyone else forgets, you and I can carry on his memory, and even though he’s gone that’s something you can still do for him.”
Kix’s eyes started to water, whether from grief or exhaustion Jesse wasn’t sure, but he took the datapad from Kix’s hands, stood up, and pulled the other man to his feet. Kix went willingly into his arms and Jesse held him as tight as he could while running a soothing hand up and down his back. “Come one,” he said, giving Kix a squeeze and then shifting to put an arm around his shoulder. “It’s late. Let’s get to bed.” Kix nodded in assent.
Jesse steered them toward the barracks, Kix leaning heavily on him as he was all but dead on his feet. When they reached Jesse’s bunk he indicated for Kix to take a seat. He peeled away piece after piece of Kix’s armor until he was down to his blacks, then gave him a gentle push to lie down on the thin mattress. He quickly stripped of his own armor and put both sets into neat piles next to the bunk.
Kix was half asleep when Jesse climbed in beside him but was just conscious enough to curl up against his riduur’s chest as Jesse wrapped him in his arms.
“Goodnight, Kix’ika,” Jesse whispered softly. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Kix mumbled, then promptly fell asleep.
Jesse remained awake for a minuet longer, feeling Kix’s breathing even out and his body go lax against his own. The morning would be rough. The fighting would start early, as it always did, and there would be no more time to grieve. But in a way, maybe that was better. Maybe it meant they could move on faster, forced to focus on more enemies to fight and more vode to save. Jesse didn’t know. He did know, however, that for these next few hours he and his riduur could find some peace together, a brief moment free from worry and pain. It was with that thought that Jesse closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.