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Rain lashed against the windows, providing a perfect backdrop to the instructor’s lecture. He had to admit, he wasn’t paying much attention. This was the third time this week they had discussed the same topic, and it was getting old. The storm at least provided something to focus on, to at least give the appearance he was listening. The lecture ended, and they all gathered their books as they headed out.
“Hey, Echo.” Splits bumped his shoulder into his. “Ready for training?”
Echo sighed heavily. “Not really looking forward to it. This storm is going to make it miserable.”
“That’s half the fun. Besides, maybe they’ll call it early if the weather gets any worse.”
“We can always dream.” Echo dropped his books on his bunk, turning to begin suiting up in his combat gear. “Just, be careful out there today. It’s going to be slippery with all the rain.”
“Yes, mother.” Splits rolled his eyes, shrugging on his gear as well. “Now, come on, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”
The two of them jogged down the hallway side by side, the group getting larger the closer they got to the doors as more and more troopers joined them. Helmets securely in place, they stepped out into the rain. The trainers were already waiting for them, arms crossed.
“Let’s go. Two laps of the track, double time.”
“Yes sir.” They all chorused, heading out to the track, a narrow path that traveled around most of Tipoca City. Starting at a jog, they quickly worked their way farther onto the track, picking up speed as they went. If it weren’t for their helmets, they would all have been suffocated by now, the rain coming down in thick sheets. The higher the path got, the thicker the rain and the slicker the flooring. “Careful.” Echo grunted again, slowing slightly to help keep his footing.
Splits ignored him, continuing on at his headlong pace, trying to take the next turn far too fast. Echo was too far behind to do anything as he watched Splits’ feet slide out from under him. He hit the railing, and for a moment it looked like it would hold, but then the metal crumpled and he tipped over, hurtling down with the rain. Echo skidded to a stop against the railing, leaning desperately over to see his friend. He hadn’t fallen in the water, thankfully, but was sprawled out on the walkway beneath, unmoving, his helmet knocked to the side.
Echo didn’t think he had ever run the track faster, his earlier caution discarded as he raced to get to his brother lying motionless below him. He dropped to his knees beside Splits, reaching hesitantly for him, afraid to aggravate a hidden injury. A quick assessment showed that he had gotten off fairly easy. No broken bones as far as Echo could tell, and nothing was bleeding. The worst he had was probably a mild concussion. Echo sighed in relief, sagging backwards onto the ground. Splits would be fine.
Suddenly, he started choking. Echo hadn’t thought to put his helmet back on, too busy checking for a head injury, and he was drowning on land, the rain pouring into his lungs. Echo pulled him up hastily, situating him against his shoulder and turning his head so the water could run out of his mouth. He whacked his back, trying to force the water from his lungs. This close, Echo could feel every spasm of breath, every choked wheeze, and he felt it when it all stopped. Panicking, he dropped Splits onto his back, trying to stop the worst of the rain with his own body as he began chest compressions, desperately trying to keep his brother alive.
He heard the trainers come up behind him, their footsteps loud even over the rain and his pounding heart. “Help me, please.” He begged. He could feel the bones in his fingers crack as he pressed them down against armor again and again. “He’s not breathing. You have to help me.” Tears began to drip from his eyes as no one moved, running down his cheeks beneath his helmet. “He’s still alive, we just need to get him out of the rain. Please.”
One of the trainers pulled him away, and he fought to get back to Splits until another joined, holding him back as a Kaminoan stepped through the doorway, a stretcher bed behind them. It wasn’t an infirmary bed, though. These were the ones they used when they took someone to get decommissioned, when the Kaminoans had decided that they were no longer worth the effort to help.
“No!” Echo screamed, fighting to get free. “He’s still alive. You’re not delivering a perfectly good body to the grave. He just needs a little help.” He felt his shoulder pop out of its socket, but kept fighting.
“He was reckless.” The Kaminoan said softly, their voice deceptively gentle. “He had received too many chances already. It is too late.”
“No! Please!” Echo thrashed and pleaded until long after his brother was out of sight. The trainers finally let him go, and he slumped to the ground, sobbing.
“Come on.” One of them said, almost kindly. “Let’s get you taken care of.”
Echo followed, sitting numbly as they set his broken fingers and popped his shoulder back into place. One by one they left him sitting alone, staring at his brother’s empty bunk. The last patted his good shoulder gently and seemed about to say something, before walking out, leaving Echo to his grief. It might be too late for Splits, but echo was resolved that it would never happen to another of his brothers again. The rain lashed against the window, and he finally cried himself to sleep.