:Incoming Message From: CT-3996, Guard Trooper Tumbler:

"Cuddles for the vod'ika!"

Bite refuses to leave a kid looking that sad.

1607 is on the floor looking very sad. "Cuddles? Someone, anyone? Cuddles please?"

He doesn't want to be all by himself here.

"Medics bunks then. You can use the sonic, and then I'll take a look at your injuries."

Bite slowly gets close enough to catch Mouse if he falls, and they start walking back to base. While they walk, he sends a comm to the duty medic to let him know he is off call to deal with something before turning back to Mouse.

"Want me to comm anyone vod'ika? I've heard you've got some protective ori'vode around if you want them with you."

At this point, they have reached the door to the medics bunks, Bite knows they should be empty at this time, so he walks straight in.

"Fresher is the door at the end, I know they may not fit, but I have some blacks you can borrow until we can get you yours. Go and get washed up. You look like you are trying to run away from your skin there vod'ika."

Mouse is lounging on a plush couch in a senator's private chambers, trying to ignore what happened before the senator in question left him alone. Her name and face are a blur, same as the touches she left on his skin. There is a platter on the table that he is looking for food to fill with. It's almost as an afterthought that he pings the Guard comm channel. "Hey, can someone come....come be with me? I don't wanna be alone. Sending location and vitals now."

Oh by the kara!

Send me your location and I'll come get you vod'ika, but you owe me a clip of the holocam footage I know you have of Amidala and Skywalker because my other vod'ika doesn't belive me when I say they are still seeking around the senate as if they can hide.

Update:

I am pinned under a utility droid and NOW FIVE MOUSE DROIDS.

Acid, Ticktack, B-307, Squeak and Pam came across us and Ringerbeep must've said SOMETHING because they all took kriffing turns zapping each other and now they're cuddling Ringerbeep who THEY RE-ZAPPED.

...

I really need to use the washroom.

"....You're not meant to look like that." || Bleeding Prompt!||

(@corrie-guard-tumbler)

"Not meant to look like what, Tumbler?"

Bite was in the barracks, just trying to fix up anything in urgent need of his attention after the latest round of Specialist Trooper VS Red Guard, a 'fun' game the chancellor's pets liked to pull any guard with additional training into.

It was only because of the injuries that the skanah aran had left him with that Bite was out of the majority of his blacks in the barracks for the first time since he arrived. He'd had absolutely no intention of showing anyone other than the other medics the complex pieces of metal that held together his right knee or left shoulder if he didn't have to. And now he has remembered why.

"If you've got an issue with the braces, take it up with the Kaminoans."

"You've been here too long! Do you understand how it sounds to everyone else when you declare a brother a lost cause?! You are so used to all this pain and death that you have just given up! You call me frontie like my service record is something to be ashamed of, but just maybe if you put aside your raging bias for 10 minutes you'd realise the fact I'm not originally Coruscant Guard is exactly why I know this time will be different!"

Bite could feel the solid durasteel table, unrelenting under the tough material of his barely broken in gloves, the thick fibres the only thing insulating his adrenaline flushed skin from the icy metal under his palms. He took a deep, shaking breath before continuing.

"I have real blood on my hands from missions you don't have the clearance to even think about, I have faced droids, natborns, and everything in between. I swore to my squad I would try my best to fit in with the Guard but if being a Guard means accepting the death of your vod'e because you are too wounded by this planet to even try save them anymore, you can take back your welcome and send me to be decommissioned. Kamino can have me if this is my future, and if I'm going to die anyway then why shouldn't I try to save Tumbler, a vod who has welcomed me and stood by me and wanted to protect me since I arrived before I go."

Bite's voice grew colder the longer spoke, the need to lash out at the man telling him to just give up who stood before him, a man who has been so utterly destroyed by the planet he was made to protect. Later, Bite might try to explain to Nickel what he was thinking during this fight, but now, the only thing he wanted was to tear this mans comforting, stagnant hell to shreds, and make him see what he is doing by giving in to the weight of his nightmares.

*BZZZZZZT*

If anyone is getting this, I need back-up! This is CT-3996, I am on level 105, I am being chased by unknow-KARK!

*There's a thud and grunt, then a quick scramble of action. As if the speaker had fallen and quickly gotten back up and ran afterwards. There's some voices in the background, muffled and inaudible*

I don't know who the suspects are or if they are gang affiliated, they are wearing concealing face-wear and no verbal confirmation of Separatist allegiance!

*There's a brief lapse of silence as Tumbler seems to be ducking around obstacles, huffing as runs from the assailants. They are getting closer and a blaster sounds off, earning a panicked curse from the Guard*

OSIK! VODE, THEY'RE AN INSIDE JOB! THEY ARE DIRECTING ME AWAY FROM MY KNOWN ESCAPE ROUTES, THEY ISOLATED ME FROM OTHER PATROLS! THEY-

*A another round of blasters before Tumbler is seemingly hit, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. His bucket records his unsteady breathing until footsteps are heard approaching*

Time to come home to our Lady, pet.

*The last recording before Tumbler's signal vanishes ends*

"Kark!"

This was not what Bite had been expecting to occur when we came back from his long shift with a burning need to wash the grime of the lower levels off his skin. The punch came too fast for previously unguarded medic, and the only real indicator of what had just happened was the tense brother in front of him and the throbbing pain from the steadily growing bruise on his cheek.

"07? What the hell was that for?!"

1607 despises people seeing his scars. They're a thing of shame, after all-- not battle scars, just evidence of what's been done to him. The elaborate patterns trail down from his shoulders to his wrists, and all along his ribs. He despises them. So, when he steps out of the shower and is face-to-face with another trooper, he acts on instinct-- he punches them.

Manda give me strength.

Bite has treated POWs in the field before. Brothers caught by separatists that were deemed worth retrieving and even Jedi who were being torn apart for their information. This was different. What those prisoners went through, the pain they faced, was just a tool to get what they wanted in the eyes of the CIS. This was pure sadism.

The first thing Bite saw was the blood. The varied reds and browns reached every corner of the room, the brightest hues drawing his gaze to the centre. And there stood Tumbler, restrained and wounded, surrounded by gore. The clone had obviously been fighting, defensive wounds covering his body bearly discernable from the ones inflicted with much more intent.

It was the eyes that left Bite so unbalanced, all higher level thought seemingly locked away deep within, leaving only base instinct and unadulterated fear. If they wanted to get Tumbler out of here quick, then Bite had a difficult time ahead.

With the help of Bite and the element of surprise, with Crane jumping down from the rafters, Their able to get the jump on the guards quickly and quietly.

Crane gestures to Bite to retreat to where the rest of the squad was. Crane was going to cause a distraction, and needed no other vode to get involved.

“Trust me.” Is all Crane signalled, ‘force I should have thought of something better,’ before opening the door. 

“Hey! Sorry I was looking for the fresher, could you point me in it’s detection?”

Cranes then books it down the opposite side of the hallway, being chased by 3 of the Rattataki that were in the room, hopefully leaving Tumbler unguarded or at least less guarded.

Force if this doesn’t kill him, Forge sure as hells will.

(go get him!! @corrie-bite @squad380 also @corrie-guard-tumbler 👀)

"Alright vod'ika, one step at a time. First, I need you to tell me whether you have any injuries other than those scratches that I need to worry about. Third, I need you to let me know whether you want me to deal with your scratches here or back at base."

Bite is now close enough to see the haphazard way Mouse's armour has been strapped on and the look in his eye that screams hurt.

"May I sit with you vod'ika?"

Mouse is lounging on a plush couch in a senator's private chambers, trying to ignore what happened before the senator in question left him alone. Her name and face are a blur, same as the touches she left on his skin. There is a platter on the table that he is looking for food to fill with. It's almost as an afterthought that he pings the Guard comm channel. "Hey, can someone come....come be with me? I don't wanna be alone. Sending location and vitals now."

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