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Ridge's galaxy narrows to the sight on the end of his blaster and the droids in front of it. From the moment he corrected his comm having gone static, Ridge has only concentrated on putting one armoured boot in front of the other, and firing his blaster until the metal overheated under his gloved fingers.
He sees his brothers fall around him, of course he does, his face, his body, dying over and over again. A blaster shot. A severed line. Shrapnel peppering the rockface as the AT-TE next to his rapidly diminishing squad explodes into shards of metal and transparisteel. The vehicle slides down the cliff side, troopers plummeting to the ground below as it rips them from their lines.
Ridge focuses on pulling himself up. Hand over hand over hand. Boots slipping on the rock, sending pieces clattering downwards. His gloves slippery with sweat and blood as he tries to grip onto the swaying grappling cable.
Droid. Fire. Droid. Fire.
He heaves himself, panting with the exertion, over the top of the summit, a brother's hand reaching down to haul him over the edge. Another steadying hand clings onto his belt kit, as Ridge shoots past them - nailing a droid in the chassis.
There's no time to thank them, no time to rest, as Ridge stumbles forward, forever marching forwards after his Commanding Officers. He's lost sight of his squad, and if he lets himself even think for one moment outside of the point and fire and move forwards of his existence right now - the grief that they're probably dead would cause him to sink to his knees.
Ridge doesn't think. He follows the Captain forward, point and shoot.
Move. Point and shoot. Move.
And then there's quiet. They shelter behind the monastery structure, the pillars a meagre protection against the droid forces forcing their way into their defensive position. The Captain stands firm, his voice strong as he orders them to hold the line. Ridge takes a deep breath in, unsure as to when he last did so, and uncertain as to whether it will be his last.
The door holds.
It holds until it doesn't, the lock sliced through by the enemy, the red of a lightsaber filling the space and Ridge fires and fires until the blaster is ripped from his fingers by an invisible force.
The firing stops. Captain Rex stands tall between them and the enemy, feet planted and defiance radiating from his posture.
"Easy, lads," the Captain says softly over comms. "Don't move just yet. On my mark."
Ridge doesn't move. Rooted in place. He follows orders despite how his body screams at him to do so. Someone's foot scuffs against the floor as time stretches. The droids draw closer. Their metal feet loud against the stone floor. Ridge has never gone hand-to-hand with a droid, and he glances to the side, seeing how the man next to him subtly adjusts his stance. He copies him, slowly sliding his right foot out a little, dropping his centre of gravity a touch.
The force-wielder stalks closer.
"Now!"
There's an explosion of movement as every trooper surges forward, plastoid armour colliding with metal skeletons. But their fearless Captain is sent flying with just the flick of a wrist, crashing into a pillar with a resounding crack and a pained cry.
Ridge, distracted by the groan of his commanding officer, is hit by a stun blast at close range. It sends him crashing to his knees, jarring a shocked gasp from his lungs, as metal fingers lock around his elbow. His vision, and perhaps his brain, whites out for a moment.
He resurfaces from the whiteout to metal fingers digging into the gaps between his armour plates, adding to the bruises that the armour already inflicts to the wearer. His vision distorts as he's dragged away, legs unresponsive - away from their Captain, slumped bonelessly against the pillar.
Someone shouts, the sound turning into a gasp, the warble of a stun blast loud in Ridge's ears. The Captain, full of strength and life and tenacity, doesn't move, and Ridge squints through blurred vision trying to see the wound that took him from them. He bites his lip so hard that it draws blood as he's discarded on the floor, desperate in his need to stay conscious, his limbs not responding to his need to move.
The red lightsaber wielder bosses her droids around, ignoring them all, seeking their Jedi. But the Jedi aren't here, further down in the hallways of the monastery. She doesn't appear surprised by this development, looking around at Ridge and his brothers, and scoffs.
"Take care of what's left of the clones," she orders, the tone of her voice dismissive.
Ridge's heartrate skyrockets. His pulse beats wildly in his ears. He refuses to die like this, not now, not when he could do something if his body would just fucking move.
He hears the sound of a blaster discharging, before it flies across the open space, clattering against the floor. Ridge startles, and then watches in horror, as Captain Rex is dragged upwards from where his body had been slumped - hands scrabbling at his neck as he chokes. His legs are kicking for purchase, though he finds none, suspended in the air against the smooth stone of the pillar he's pressed against.
And Ridge still can't move.
Somehow, the Captain manages to rasp out an insult to their enemy, and Ridge would laugh in his terror for their Captain if he had the ability to do so. His fingers twitch though, and Ridge's determination is renewed, willing his body to respond to his fervent demands.
He's distracted again from his own situation, when their enemy somehow convinces the Captain to contact the General with a wave of her hand. But it doesn't seem right hearing Captain Rex's flat response, the dullness in his tone, as he comms General Skywalker asking for his location. Ridge doesn't know whether he hopes the General will respond or not, suspended between fear of mission failure and fear for more of his brothers dying.
The General never responds to Captain Rex's summons, and their captor scoffs, turning on her heel and striding away silently down the corridor.
Ridge's arms finally respond. He slowly, inchingly so, moves one hand towards the blaster that had been torn from their Captain's grasp. It's tantalisingly within reach, and the droids aren't paying attention to him, their focus on Captain Rex as his chest heaves with a wheezing cough.
Someone else's leg knocks into his, and Ridge tears his eyes away from the droids advancing on the Captain, his visor locking with the brother next to him.
"You ready?" a voice crackles in his ear, identified as Sergeant Coric by his HUD, and Ridge signs an affirmative - not trusting his own voice yet.
"Sound off," Sergeant Coric says again, and confirmation of every body sprawled around Ridge crackles quietly in the confines of his helmet. Ridge's own voice cracking as he joins the chorus. "Alright, ready to move. Move!"
Ridge bunches his legs under him in one swift movement and lunges forward, the Captain's blaster already firing at the droids closest to its owner. The droids topple in quick succession, as Ridge and his brothers stumble forwards on jelly-like limbs. Captain Rex is already in motion, barrelling into the nearest droid to him and driving it to the floor. He sweeps out another with the snap of a leg, spinning to grab a third one's blaster and point it at the fourth. The droid's chassis crumples.
"Sir!" Ridge calls out, and as he’s not an ARC, he doesn’t toss the blaster back to the Captain - taking the extra moment to pass it carefully, sharp end down, to where it belongs.
The Captain nods his thanks and then he's gone. Straight back into the fray as Ridge sweeps up another discarded blaster from the floor.
Someone has thankfully managed to get the door open again, and they fan out into the bright sunlight, droids swarming out of every doorway and shadow. Captain Rex leads the charge as they plow into their metal foe, kama whipping around his legs as he encourages them forward. His voice catches painfully and yet he continues forward, and they follow. Ridge and his brothers will follow him no matter where he leads them. This man, Ridge trusts with his life. And if he dies, well, it would never be the Captain's fault.
Blasterfire flies across the courtyard as Ridge and his brothers are driven backwards to the crumpled carcass of an AT-TE. Ridge pointedly doesn't look at the cockpit, at the caved in transparisteel and the blood smeared across the inside. He doesn't look at the bodies, identical to his own, it could be him there, sprawled across the open space. Ridge reminds himself he can't help them now, but maybe he can help keep those men still breathing next to him alive a little longer. The only thing that matters right now is the droid at the end of his sights.
And the next one. And the next one.
At the end of Ridge's weapon sight a brother dangles from a B2's grasp. His body jolts as the droid shoots him through the chest. He - the body - is tossed aside as Ridge yells, his shots raining into the droid's chassis. He knows it's too late as the man's lifeless body collides with the floor, but he was alive and now he's not and Ridge can't…
He fires and fires. His blaster burns him through his gloves. Ridge keeps firing. The droids advance and clones retreat, their backs pressed to the metal shell of the AT-TE.
They're outnumbered. Outgunned. And whilst Captain Rex states the Jedi will come for them, Ridge admits silently to himself that he's not so sure they'll be any of them left when they finally arrive.
Then the droids stop firing. And Ridge's hearing rings in the sudden silence.
They're outnumbered and outgunned, and yet his Captain has the balls to tell them otherwise, and Ridge laughs hysterically inside his helmet at the ridiculousness of it all.
And then they're back to fighting for their lives as the warbling roar of LAATi engines fill the air. The 212th arrive - relief threatening to drag a sob from Ridge's throat - strafing the droids surrounding their dwindling numbers. Ridge catches a glimpse of Commander Cody leaning out of the blast shield firing at the droids, and he wonders whether someone might make it out of here alive.
His Captain dives forward towards a spider droid, and Ridge, with his heart in his throat, follows him. He provides covering fire as the Captain dives forward, the droid left in pieces in his wake.
And then, finally, it's over.
Ridge lowers his blaster, his lungs heaving for air that he can't seem to draw in. His ears are ringing again and his fingers tremble on the stock of his weapon and his legs feel like they're going to collapse from out under him.
An arm slips under his, pulling him steady against a still alive brother.
"Woah, we've got you," a voice murmurs through a vocoder.
Ridge can't find his voice, his breathing shaking as he nods in response, in thanks, in grief. His steps are wobbly as the golden-painted brother guides him onto the LAATi. He feels… Numb. Ridge doesn't know where his blaster is or his squad or his Captain or his Jedi, and he doesn't know how he's still alive when so many brothers are not.
Another blue-painted brother is plonked beside him, the pair of them leaning heavily against the other. Ridge's HUD tells him this is Attie as the other trooper reaches out a tremoring hand and interlaces his fingers with Ridge's. A golden-painted medic crouches in front of them both, a scanner in hand.
"Any injuries?"
Ridge shakes his head, Attie doing the same next to him. He doesn't think he's injured, he can't feel anything that would suggest he is. Wouldn't it hurt if he was?
The scanner beeps, the medic taking a moment to check the readout.
"Nothing to be concerned about," he says, "I'm sending you to the medbay for them to do their checks, then you can hit the bunks, alright?"
Ridge and Attie both nod. Attie murmuring an affirmative. The medic fishes out some electrolyte sachets and hands one to each them.
"Get that down your necks as soon as you can," he orders, stowing his scanner in his beltkit.
He goes to stand and Ridge's hand darts out without thinking, latching onto the medic's arm.
"The Captain," Ridge manages to say through a throat that feels too tight, as if it was him, not Captain Rex, choking on invisible hands around his neck. "He's hurt."
The medic squeezes his wrist in the gap between the armour as Ridge feels the LAATi lift away from the planet's surface.
"We've got him. We've got all of you."
Ridge shakes his head, frustration rising as his words refuse to pass over his tongue. "She used the Force on him, check on him, please."
The medic nods, arm lifting to his mouth to relay the message. Ridge drifts for a moment, only catching the Captain's name in passing.
The medic taps on his thigh plate and Ridge blinks.
"Your Sergeant Coric is with Captain Rex, they're both alright. Nothing that a little bacta can't fix," the golden medic explains. "You'll be seeing them shortly, as well as the rest of Torrent, okay?"
Ridge nods. "Not many left of us, sir," he murmurs.
The medic doesn't say anything to that, placing a hand on the gap between the shoulder plate and helmet of each of them in turn and squeezing. Ridge's grip tightens on Attie's hand clasped tightly in his.
The numbness doesn't dissipate, but it eases ever so slightly.
The following hours and days, blur and warp. Ridge finds himself in an officer berth, clustered with the other survivors of Torrent Company. It's hard to reach out again, to make bonds that could be taken from him in an instant. But Ridge needs his brothers now more than ever, and he doesn't want to be alone.
So, Ridge's galaxy slowly widens again. Steadily growing to include the survivors from their assault on the monastery. Ridge still feels numb, but the men who survived with him are tough, and Ridge, well, Ridge focuses on putting one foot in front of the other.
They march forwards together. They follow doggedly in the steps of their Captain. They live to fight another day.