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“Medic!”
Troopers ran past, not looking at, but carefully avoiding contact with, the two clones huddled in the mud.
“Please,” the trooper sitting upright beseeched whoever might listen, “we need a medic!”
In his arms, the other clone choked for breath, a blaster hole through his chestplate. He didn’t have long. That much Tech gathered as he approached the pair. He knelt before them. “I am not a medic, but I have medical training. I will assist with whatever I can.”
“Thank you,” the reg said, adjusting his grip on his brother.
Tech gave a short nod and slid his pack off. “My name is Tech.”
“I’m Blade,” the uninjured reg said, “this is Shank.”
Shank coughed, a gurgling sound deep in his lungs. Blood dribbled ominously from the corners of his lips, but Blade quickly wiped it away, as if erasing the evidence of internal damage would be enough to save his brother. It wouldn’t be. Nothing would be enough.
“I’m going to give him a hypo for the pain,” Tech said.
“He’s going to be okay,” Blade told him. “We just need to keep him stable until we can get him to the med center.”
Tech did not answer, finding the correct hypo and injecting it into the dying clone’s neck.
“Is it safe to move him?” Blade asked. “We should probably take cover.”
Shank’s safety at this point did not worry Tech; however, for Blade’s sake, Tech said, “That would be advisable.”
Blade took his brother’s torso and Tech took Shank’s legs. The mud squelched under their boots, making it laborious to stay upright with the awkward weight between them. They managed to make it to a large rock formation that gave some barrier from the warzone raging around them.
“Tech, where are you?” Hunter’s voice filtered through his private comm channel.
Tech finished helping Blade settle Shank against the natural barrier before he picked up his comm. “I am assisting with a medical situation.” He was not going to say that he was helping a reg die comfortably, even if that was all the medical assistance he could offer in this case.
“Who’s injured?” comes Hunter’s next question.
Tech hesitated, trying to think of a way to tactfully say it wasn’t one of their brothers – one of the Batch – without causing distress to the reg hovering over his fallen comrade. “One of the company’s troopers,” he said after a moment.
“Be careful,” Hunter said, the guilted relief evident even through the static of the comm.
“Roger that,” Tech agreed before signing off. He turned his attention back to the two troopers in his company.
“Shouldn’t we staunch the wound?” Blade asked.
Shank whined and turned his head toward Blade’s voice. Blade reached out and took one of Shank’s hands. “I’m here, brother. Just hang on. You’re going to be fine.”
“No,” Shank mumbled, voice taut with pain. He knew he wasn’t going to make it, Tech realized.
“Yeah,” Blade argued gently and crawled closer to wrap an arm around Shank’s shoulders. “Yeah, you’re gonna be just fine. You’ve survived worse, huh?”
Shank managed a grin, and Tech felt his heart pang with an awful despairing emotion. Even in his last, excruciating moments, this reg tried to be strong for his brother.
Blade looked at Tech. “Aren’t you going to help him? You said you would help him!”
Tech crouched on Shank’s other side, pulling out his portable med scanner and making a show of checking over Shank’s vitals. “We can try to staunch the wound, as you said; however, the damage is extensive. I don’t believe there is anything that can be done other than to keep him comfortable.”
“You mean you’re just going to let him die?” Blade stared at Tech, slack faced, horror burning behind the shiny wetness in his eyes.
Tech wanted to argue that he wasn’t letting Shank do anything. It was entirely outside of his control. He had done as he said. He’d done what he could. There was nothing more to be done, as awful as it was.
“Bl…Blade,” Shank whispered, voice transparent and weak. “It’s okay…t’s okay.”
“No,” Blade sobbed, kneeling over Shank so that their foreheads pressed together. He had one of Shank’s hands clasped tightly in both of his. “No, you can’t leave. You can’t die.”
With obvious effort, Shank reached up with his free hand and put it over Blade’s chest plate, where his heart was. “Here… vod …”
Tech averted his gaze, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment. He tried not to imagine if the roles were reversed, if he were saying goodbye to one of his own brothers on the field. He did not succeed.
Not even a minute passed before Shank’s labored breathing ceased, and Blade’s sobs intensified. Tech was prepared to give the grieving brother a few more minutes, but the order suddenly came to fall back.
“Blade, we have to go,” he said as he stood.
Blade shook his head. “I can’t leave him here,” he choked out.
“We must,” Tech urged.
“You go! I’m not leaving him behind!” Blade screamed at him.
Tech reached out and grabbed Blade’s arm, attempted to forcibly drag the trooper to his feet. “You will not be leaving him behind! He’s already gone! He would not want you to die for his corpse!”
Harsh and bitter as the words sounded coming out of Tech’s mouth, they seemed to rally Blade to his senses. He allowed himself to be pulled up and returned his helmet to his head. Tech then shoved him ahead to prevent the soldier from possibly circling back if left unsupervised.
He couldn’t save one brother, but he could help the other survive at least one more day.
END