Later, When Bite Has A Rare Down Moment In The Bunks, He Carefully Peels The Sticker Off The Front Of

['Corse Crane]

(Wow thanks Bite)

Not. A. Chance.

"I apologise, Ma'am, but the situation requires CT-3996's immediate attention. This unit has received training and education in every area our creators and trainers could have anticipated my line of clones could require."

Bite is going to throw every single thing the demagolka from Kamino ever told him to justify their cruelty back at this osik'la woman now. He already knows this is going to hurt, but there is no chance he is letting the senator drag his vod back into to hell along with him.

"Mouse is waiting for you vod'ika, don't make him worry. It's my job as your medic to fix you when you're broken, it's my job as your vod to atleast try to stop people from getting to break you in the first place."

Ka'ra, Bite is not looking forward to the conversation he can feel coming after this is over.

[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.

"Alright vod, let's get you into your bunk so you don't crash in the holding cells. I hate to say it but you might want to stay out the vents until your arms healed up a bit. If you want I can clear the bunk room and sit on watch for a bit if that would help?"

If Bite wasn't already cautious of the situation in the guard, he was doubly so now. The only relief is that at least as a medic, he can be there to help his brothers put themselves back together again. Even if it is harder when most of those brothers still see you as an outsider in their home.

"You can rest for now, vod. I've got your six."

:Incoming Transmission from: Coruscant Guard Holding ward:

We need any available medic to head down to the Holding Wards and tend to our local vent cryptid. Di'kut got into a brawl with someone from Bacara's lot and our on-hand medics are tending to the the Marines who jumped in.

- @corrie-guard-tumbler

"Medic Bite, on route, Over"

Bite stands quickly from where he'd been sat talking with one of the other medics in the mess.

"I've got this one. Flag it to the medbay in case things got extra rough, and I'll comm you when I have the facts."

Bite turns on his heel and starts running full pelt towards the holding wards. He'd only met Tumbler once, but after memorising his file, he was already trying to sort out a plan in his head.

As Bite skid around the final corner, he was greeted with the sight of injured brothers and very tired medics trying to stop someone from continuing the fight.

Turning to the trooper on duty at the entrance, he asked where to find Tumbler and was pointed to a dazed and injured looking vod in the back corner of the room.

Weaving around the clones still scattered around the space, Bite finally reached the corner Tumbler was pressed into.

"Hey vod, it's Bite. What happened? What do you need?"

An obligatory Commander check-in.

“What’s your status?” (How are you?)

@bittercafanddatapads

"Ready to return to post, sir!"

It was nice of the Commander to check in on Bite, but he knew he'd do exactly the same for any vod returning from a stint on Kamino.

"If I may ask, anything of note I've missed while I was on temporary reassignment, sir?"

After the Kaminoans had sent over the paperwork for his temporary transfer, Bite had had to move quickly to get packed and on the next transport, leaving little time to tie up his loose ends on Coruscant. He could only hope his absence hadn't left too much damage within the Guard that his fellow medics were left to fix.

"By the ka'ra, I new Guard-GAR relations weren't great, but not this bad. Shows how much time I used to spend on Coruscant."

Bite starts talking as he helps Tumbler get his helmet off before moving on to his left glove and vembrance.

"I'll splint this now and check your head, then I'll wrap your arm properly. Sound good? And let me know if you want a painkiller."

Bite waits for an acknowledgement before he starts pulling things out of his pack and getting to work on Tumblers arm.

"Either way, impressed you managed to take out so many marines by yourself, we should spar some time."

He is just finishing up with the quick brace and was about to move on to the head injury when the marine closest to them pipes up.

"He got lucky, nothing impressive about it!"

If Bite had been annoyed before, now he was getting pissed. Do these guys not know to shut up when they are down.

"I recommend you can it before I march you back you your commander myself and have some words with your CMO about reminding his troops to stop picking fights while someone elses medic is stitching up your face."

Bite makes eye contact with the medic working on the marine, who nods in thanks before turning back to Tumbler.

"Kark, I hate marines."

:Incoming Transmission from: Coruscant Guard Holding ward:

We need any available medic to head down to the Holding Wards and tend to our local vent cryptid. Di'kut got into a brawl with someone from Bacara's lot and our on-hand medics are tending to the the Marines who jumped in.

- @corrie-guard-tumbler

"Medic Bite, on route, Over"

Bite stands quickly from where he'd been sat talking with one of the other medics in the mess.

"I've got this one. Flag it to the medbay in case things got extra rough, and I'll comm you when I have the facts."

Bite turns on his heel and starts running full pelt towards the holding wards. He'd only met Tumbler once, but after memorising his file, he was already trying to sort out a plan in his head.

As Bite skid around the final corner, he was greeted with the sight of injured brothers and very tired medics trying to stop someone from continuing the fight.

Turning to the trooper on duty at the entrance, he asked where to find Tumbler and was pointed to a dazed and injured looking vod in the back corner of the room.

Weaving around the clones still scattered around the space, Bite finally reached the corner Tumbler was pressed into.

"Hey vod, it's Bite. What happened? What do you need?"

"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."

What made you transfer from GAR to Guard? Bit of a downgrade, isn't it?

First of all, it's not a downgrade or a demotion or anything of the like. It's just another job with another group of brothers I need to keep alive just one day longer. I miss my old squad, sure, and maybe being a GAR transfer has been a bit... isolating so far, but it's a posting, which is much better than the other option.

I got injured. It was bad. It was decided by the brass that they didn't need a stealth ops medic if it was going to slow the rest of the mission down so I was lined up for decom before Commander Blackout himself got involved. Made a case for me to be sent to a static posting so as not to waste my specialist training. Don't know how he managed it, but here we are. I'm a combat medic with no battlefield and stealth clone on a planet where there are eyes on you always. I've only been here a short while, so I guess we will see what happens next.

I can't say much, but medics talk to each other. Fett'ika hasn't let a brother with a medics insignia anywhere near him in... a while. I've got your back in this, but you may need to talk to him before I try to get involved. I worry if we spook him, he'll run, and I don't want him to get hurt if he doesn't trust any of the vod'e medics to patch him back up again.

@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?

Once Bite finally reaches the room, he knocks on the door, "Vod, it's me, I'm coming in." The door opens with little effort, and Bite finally has eyes on the trooper. Mouse is curled up on the sofa with an empty plate covered in crumbs resting next to him. For such a small man, Bite is still surprised by how much smaller he could make himself. "Hey there vod'ika, what do you need from me right now?"

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."

If Bite had been frustrated with the situation before, now he was pissed. As a front liner, a medic and a stealth trooper Bite has watched countless brothers die, has known if he'd got there quicker, if the plan was better or the stakes less high he could have saved at least some of them. It has only been since joining the guard that he felt so incredibly outmatched by how powerless he is to help. He won't do it this time, take the route all the corrie vets tell him is the only choice. He isn't just going to roll over and let Tumbler die.

"No. I won't write it. I can get him out. All I need is a location and maybe one or two more clones, but I can do it! I can get him out without causing a scene, I can even manipulate the evidence to put the thugs behind bars. I won't let Tumbler die because you are afraid when I have been training for these types of missions most of my life!"

*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*