(Mission Impossible Theme Starts Playing)

The door to the med bay opens with its usual hisssssss

He clears his throat.

“Uh excuse me,—”

(@guard-crane :D yay forge time)

Bite looks up from where he sat at the small desk shoved into the corner of the medbay, filling out medical reports to add to a few troopers' files when someone walked in. He can see no visible injuries in the clone in the doorway, so he stays sitting but puts down his stylus and gives the trooper his full attention.

"That's me. What can I do for you, vod?"

"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."

Senator Vyrim, the representative of the Separatist Allied planet Rattataki.

Rattataki appear to be very war tribe in culture, as well as boasting of great endurance of pain as many Rattataki are adjourned in piercings and tattoos from head to toe. Vyrim is no stranger to her own customs, going for piercings that signify her status as Senator.

I said after you'd spoken to Ringerbeep vod. I've not known the droids as long as you, but even I know that an angry droid is a bad idea when you are trying to coexist. Just give me a comm when you are done, and I'll come get you to bring you back to the bunks so you don't collapse from a stim crash on top of your exaution.

@corrie-bite @corrie-guard-tumbler @cc1010fox

My apologies for interrupting, sirs, but it would appear that a feral Boba Fett (@youngfett) has stumbled across the barracks, and he's wounded. I understand that I need to learn to take initiative, but I figured that it's different for Boba, you know? I mean... He's Prime's kid. After the fiasco with Aurra Sing, I want to make sure that he's got people in his corner, and who better for that than the vod'e?

"Hey there vod'ika, it's Bite, you are with your brothers, you are safe."

Bite had spotted the glinting metal the second he'd gotten close enough to be able to clearly see his vod. The only thing keeping him upright being the anger now renewed in his veins.

"What do you need from me, vod? Because if I'm being truthful, I don't want to let you out of my sight right now."

The painkillers he'd been given were fogging up his brain, he knew he should probably get Tumbler settled before he collapsed, but if he couldn't figure out a way to ground him before then, Bite would just have to keep trying from the floor.

[DECEIVE] The sender tells a lie in order to protect the receiver || Bite was hoping for a quiet shift, though a shift as the on call medic for the senate is never quiet. As soon as Bite saw a senator getting a bit too close to his vod, he sped up to intervene. "Sir, I see that you seem to be asking this trooper for some assistance. I regret to inform you that it is unable to complete any alternative taskings at this time. I can assist you with anything you need to the best of my ability."

"Oooh? CT-3996, why didn't you tell me you were occupied? Were you hoping someone would tattle on lil ol' me?"

Tumbler would appear unaffected at first glance, settled in perfect parade rest but Bite would see how Tumbler is digging his fingers hard into his forearms, hidden behind and out of sight of the Senator, hiding his building fear and discomfort as the Senator trails her hand under where his chin would be, safe beneath his bucket.

"I was unaware, Senator Vyrim. Forgive this Trooper, it's holocomm may be inoperable and missed a situation that requires their attention."

He hopes, prays even, to whatever damned deity or greater being or even the sith-damned Force that the Senator drops the matter. Senator Vyrim was too alike Sly Moore for Tumbler to truly dismiss and disassociate from, the Rattataki Senator sharing the same pale tone and eye colour, with her tattoos and bejeweled skin the only difference from the Umbaran female.

It's only later, once Bite has managed to hobble his way to the medbay, that he sees Tumbler again. The clone is battered and still obviously struggling to full reconnect with reality. Before any of his fellow medics can stop him Bite has stumbled out of the bed he'd been bullied into and over to his vod'ika.

As the panic and worry starts to bubble up in his chest, Bite takes a breath before gently pulling at the corner of Tumblers sleeve, avoiding skin after the last time a medic wasn't careful enough and got a black eye from a panicked vod.

As he guides him to sit on his now empty bed he speaks, "Kark, Tumbler, hey vod, are you with us?"

Even though he'd only been up for less than a minute, Bite can already feel his body protesting loudly at him, but after how he seemed to have just made things worse for Tumbler, the least he can do is make sure he is safe first.

[DECEIVE] The sender tells a lie in order to protect the receiver || Bite was hoping for a quiet shift, though a shift as the on call medic for the senate is never quiet. As soon as Bite saw a senator getting a bit too close to his vod, he sped up to intervene. "Sir, I see that you seem to be asking this trooper for some assistance. I regret to inform you that it is unable to complete any alternative taskings at this time. I can assist you with anything you need to the best of my ability."

"Oooh? CT-3996, why didn't you tell me you were occupied? Were you hoping someone would tattle on lil ol' me?"

Tumbler would appear unaffected at first glance, settled in perfect parade rest but Bite would see how Tumbler is digging his fingers hard into his forearms, hidden behind and out of sight of the Senator, hiding his building fear and discomfort as the Senator trails her hand under where his chin would be, safe beneath his bucket.

"I was unaware, Senator Vyrim. Forgive this Trooper, it's holocomm may be inoperable and missed a situation that requires their attention."

He hopes, prays even, to whatever damned deity or greater being or even the sith-damned Force that the Senator drops the matter. Senator Vyrim was too alike Sly Moore for Tumbler to truly dismiss and disassociate from, the Rattataki Senator sharing the same pale tone and eye colour, with her tattoos and bejeweled skin the only difference from the Umbaran female.

The second Bite hears the recording he ditches his meal and sprints faster than he ever has to the room a follow-up broadcast indicated all troopers with information should report to immediately. Blood roars in his ears, ka'ra he doesn't think he has ever heard Tumbler so scared. He almost slides across the floor as he plants his feet outside the meeting room, and before he has even caught his breath, he forces open the door.

"What do we know?"

A mix of officers, ARF scouts, comms and baseline troopers were all crowded around the central table that was covered in maps, personnel lists and the odd stream of code from those trying to hack the missing vods signal. It's one of the riot troopers he knows from their last trip to the medbay that acknowledges him.

"Not much, Comms have pinpointed the exact location of the transmission, but we still haven't been able to regain contact. Narrowing down the list of individuals that Tumbler has enough contact with to justify the amount of knowledge they have has been slow given the amount of Senate shifts he takes. There are a couple of ARF scouts out with mastiffs trying to find a trail, but no luck so far."

Bite nods his thanks to the scout before joining the rest of the group around the table. The transcript has little useful information, Tumbler obviously unable to report specifics with so many unknowns, but it isn't the transcript of Tumblers voice that catches his eye.

"Lady. Pet. Oh, by the Ka'ra if this is who I think it might be, then manda let us find him soon"

We are coming for you Tumbler.

*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*

"....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."

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 👀)

"Bite, CT-8024 of Stealth Squad 07."

Bite knew there was something not quite right with that sentence, but right now, he didn’t want to think what it was.

"Why is it dark? Why is it so cold? I got out, I know I got out, my squad came for me, so why is it still cold?"

Bite was spiralling further and further with every word, fear blocking out his rational thought. He was supposed to be safe now, Commander Blackout promised. He could just feel the slightest warmth before him, but his panicked brain locked on before the rest of him could catch up. Bite grasped the vod's forearms, thankfully bare of the usual vembrances, and used all of the energy he had left to not let go.

(from: @squad380) for Spotify wrapped starters/asks: 27

[Nice, song 27: Panic Room by Au/Ra]

Bite wakes with a jolt and a loud swear, tumbling from his top bunk and groaning as he lands on the previously distant floor.

"Kriff, one night of uninterrupted sleep in all I ask for." Bite mumbles in staggered, sharp breaths, aware of the vode sleeping around him. He pushes himself up on shaking limps as the adrenaline from his nightmare continues to rage through him.

In the darkness of the barracks, Bite could have sworn he was somewhere else, the cold floor only serving to help his mind send him places he never wants to think of again. Only the steady breathing of sleeping clones, intrupted by the sounds of rustling sheets and creeking frames, grounds him in the room.

Even now, Bite can feel the panic in his throat, and the images of past horrors flash across his vision. The shaking has spread throughout his entire body, and his breathing is still uneven. With each thunderous beat of his heart, Bite moved further into the shadows of his mind.