CT-2112 clambers out of the LAAT/i with a satisfied sigh. He wipes his hands on a nearby towel, and stows away the tools. "There you are, all fixed up." He climbed up into the cockpit and began flipping switches. "Now, let's hear that throaty purr of yours." The vehicle thrums to life, displays lighting up, and engines beginning to glow with energy. CT-2112 grins and gently pats the console. "That's my girl, singing like a Sartarian Songbird." CT-2112 took a moment to remember the oddness of how he'd never actually seen or heard a Sartarian Songbird. But simply had the information downloaded into his brain, along with thousands of other files on various fauna and flora he might encounter in the service of the Glorious Republic.

He powers down the vehicle and hops out, satisfied to bring a vehicle back to working order, and one that he had many many plans for. He glances over at the walker and grins. "You're up next big boy, don't you worry." He pauses for now though, taking a few moments to stretch out his back from being folded up inside the airship.

The walker pilot would shrug as he twists in his seat to face the others. 'You heard the boss, let's go!' With the clank of legs and the hiss of hydraulics the walkers would press on into the storm. Within moments they were engulfed in a howling storm of sand. It was virtually impossible to see in front of your hands, let alone the enemies of the direction they were going. Over the coms 6180 would hear a crackling voice in his ear. 'Alright boss, we're following your lead, which way?'

In the medi-bay, the nautolan wouldn't be able to say anything, wheezing slightly through their mask. The kaminoan supervisor would speak up however. 'Good work so far cadet. You've prioritized stabilization, an essential skill for a medic. Many in the field call it meatball surgery. What is your thinking so far on the patients?'

Meanwhile in the engineering room, the supervisor would shake his head with a low sight. 'Clones like you are the reason people think engineers are weird'. He'd take some more notes on his datapad as the ship starts up smoothly. 'Not bad, fast work there. I'll have to check how it holds, but looking good so far'.

He would step back, looking like he was going to leave again. Over his shoulder he would call out to the engineer. 'You've never heard a Sartarian Songbird have you kid?' With that he would move towards the door to let the cadet get back to his work.

1 hour ago, Rabobankrider said:

Meanwhile in the engineering room, the supervisor would shake his head with a low sight. 'Clones like you are the reason people think engineers are weird'. He'd take some more notes on his datapad as the ship starts up smoothly. 'Not bad, fast work there. I'll have to check how it holds, but looking good so far'.

He would step back, looking like he was going to leave again. Over his shoulder he would call out to the engineer. 'You've never heard a Sartarian Songbird have you kid?' With that he would move towards the door to let the cadet get back to his work.

CT-2112 would smile at his accomplishment, but his smile would fade a bit at the engineer's words. Mostly to himself, he would say "I've never heard any kind of bird." He would ponder that a few more moments, and then shake it off, and begin work on the walker.

"Well, ma'am," Doc said. "CT-1618 was the most critical of the group: burns were severe enough that if he was out on the field, shock would have likely killed him. The Nautolan was next, since while his physiology meant that while he would be better off than the 1618, the chance his hearts could fail meant that he was next. The Twi'lek is next. She's suffered some blaster bolt wounds, and while no major internal organs have been hit, according to the scans, I still worry about the possible shock and damage that a blaster's kinetic force would have done. As for the two clones, they seem to be fine aside from some of their senses being off. Time should be sufficient, but it could be an indicator of some deeper problem."

CT-6180 estimates the trajectory towards their objective using the crackling sensors of the walker. Unable to see much in the sandstorm, he begins marching his walker towards his last awareness of the mission. “ Onward men! ” he shouts.

CT-2112 was largely left to his own devices for a while. The walker was going to need a lot more work than the LAAT, that much was certain. They may have been of similar size, but there were a lot more working parts for the walker. It could be a mechanics dream or nightmare depending on your view.

In the medi-bay, the Kaminoan would nod slowly as she listens to the cadets reasoning. 'You reasoning is excellent cadet. Decision making as a medic is just as important as your knowledge of medical practice'. She would pause as she moves to examine the Twi'lek before continuing. 'Do not forget cadet, in the field, you will not be able to save everyone, so balancing between who can be saved and who needs the most treatment is imperative'.

Meanwhile, the walkers would continue to stomp through the raging sand. The screen on the control console flickered as it struggled to cope with the practically solid wall they were marching into. After about ten minutes of walking, the cadets would suddenly pop out of the side of the storm. It ended as quickly as it started. Looking around though, no enemy could be seen, not a droid, not a tank, not a fortification. Where exactly had they come out?

'Well, this isn't good' one of the clones would state as he glances around the seemingly empty desert.

'Wait, sir! Six o'clock!' A quick look behind would present what had gotten the clone so excited. By what must have been a literal miracle, the walkers had walked right through the centre of the enemy line without alerting the droids. They must have had their sensors scrambled by the sand as well, rendering them blind to the oncoming attackers. Now the cadets had the opportunity to quite literally shoot their enemy in the back.

One of the droid would turn to look around at the surprised shout, looking straight up at 6180. 'Hey, you're not our reinforcements'. There must have been around twenty-five B1 Battle Droids, having set up a formidable defensive line to repel the incoming republic forces. Against standard infantry, this would have been a viscous and possibly lost battle. But with a squad of walkers carrying heavy repeating blasters, things were going to go a lot faster.

"Not a chance slugger." Jackpot says as he shoots the other droids, "But would you mind not killing 75% of the targets?"

"Thank you, ma'am, for your observations and guidance." Doc said to the Kaminoan. There was going to be that possibility that, even with all of his skill and experience, someone would die on his hands. It was a facet of being a combat medic. The instructors that taught him told Doc there were 3 rules to a combat medic:

-People will die. That is an unfortunate truth.

-You, as a combat medic, will not be able to save everyone. That is also an unfortunate truth.

-But as a combat medic, you do everything in your power to break the first and second rule.

The reminder just helped push Doc to take care of this Twi'lek. "Alright, miss, let's see here...Jana Kaylin. Specialist in Kamino. Took blaster bolts when one clone switched the settings from stun to blaster bolt by accident. Alright, let's see what we got here."

Doc checked the scans: some of the wounds were cauterized quite well at this point, so there was little need for worry. However, there was damage to the insides of the body due to the kinetic force blaster bolts would make. First, bacta patches were put up on the wounds in order to get them healed up. Doc then put some wrapping around the lower torso in order to keep everything in place.

He monitored the situation as he placed an intravenous needle on her arm that contained fluids that would help heal her internal wounds faster as well as keep her stabilized. "Alright, no danger of collapsed lungs, no signs of shock, good."

"You'll be fine now, ma'am, just take it easy at this point." Doc said. He then turned his attention to the last two patients: the clones.

"Fine"

After hesitating a bit, Tannen takes a swing at Buzzard and connects.

As the droids were cut down by Slugger and Jackpot, Gunslinger would see another series of dots appear on the other side of the map. This time a larger squad of seven droids had appeared on the western side of the dome, and they were already marching towards their objective. Their guns were raised to fire on anyone they came across.

As Doc goes to work on the two clones, he does a relatively simple diagnostic: he takes a penlight and turns it on. He goes up to one clone and says, "Alright, focus on the light here," he says, pointing to the light. Then he starts moving the light in different directions. "Look up...look down...look left...look right." Doc tracks how well the clones follow the instructions, as well as their reactions times.

One clone follows the directions perfectly and his reaction times were about what one would expect from a baseline. "Alright, you're good." Doc said to the first clone. "Time seemed to have fixed it."

The other one, on the other hand, seemed to be much more delayed in his reaction. "And as for you..." Doc said, "...let me get some scans on you, see if it's just more time needed or if you have some other problem."

With a mischievous grin, Mynock shouts “ Clear ‘em out boys!!! ” over the comm, allowing the clones free fire. CT-6180 takes aim and begins to fire the heavy repeating blaster on the B1 Battle Droids.

Doc takes a look at the scans. Luckily, nothing serious was present, so all that was needed was more time for the body to get itself right up again.

"Just lay down and take a breather." Doc says.

At that point, all that was needed was monitoring the status of those that were in the medbay.

"Turn around, fellas, 7 more. Slugger , fire left to right; Jackpot , right to left."

Slugger spins round to face the new group of clankers, taking aim he fires his Cannon. " Two more down. If you don't want me to have all the kills Jackpot you are gonna need to start firing!"

CT-2112 rummages around inside the walker for a long time. Much banging and clanging can be heard, along with a lot of muttering. "Ugh! How did you get THIS in your drive manifold?!" A misshapen lump clatters to the ground from one of the many open panels. "You've got some miles on you buddy, that's for sure. You're definitely making me earn my invitro skills." 2112's head and torso emerge from one of the open panels, upside down, and covered in grease. He's holding a bit of wiring in place with his teeth, while using one hand to bring another lead up to it. His other hand has a fusing torch, and he begins to work the cables into a connected state.

Jackpot fires two more more shots downing a couple more droids, "Even if you do, by some Jedi-born miracle, kill more than me, my accuracy will still be better."

The Kaminoan would move from one patient to the next, taking precise and lengthy notes on each patient before turning to face the cadet. 'Are you content with your work trooper? Any further treatment you wish to carry out or prescribe for your patients?' It was almost impossible to tell from her facial expression and tone of voice what she was expecting. Kaminoans were difficult to read at the best of times, even by those raised by them.

The walker pilots would carry out their orders without a second thought. In a truly spectacular volley of plasma bolts, one of the droid squads was decimated. Holes almost the size of a fist were punched through there metal chassis while some exploded in flames. 'They're not reinforcements! They're not reinforcements!' one droid would wail before it was shredded by one of the walkers turrets.

In the training chamber, the droids would pause for a second as a number of them are gunned down. 'Hey, they're not supposed to have weapons' one would say to the other.

'Well, blast them!' With that the droids would open fire with their rifles as they advance.

While the droids advance and begin their assault, a second blip on Gunslingers radar would appear. A squad of three droids had risen up from the ground to the north of the centre.

While this is going on, Buzzard would raise one of his sticks to block the attack from his combatant. Bracing against Tannen's strike, Buzzard would twist his wrist to dislodge them wooden stick from his grip. As the stick clatters onto the floor, a few chuckles could be heard from the clones. Buzzard would proceed to use that same stick he would go to beat the new recruit about his arms and legs. Perhaps he was a little overzealous with his attack, but he would back off after a moment. As he does he would bring the second stick up from where it rested by his side. 'Let's try both next time' he'd say, panting slightly.

Swat would move to stand next to the jedi, giving him a nudge with his elbow. 'Some of these clones will be working with you in the field you know. You've got a good force to lead'.

While 2112 works on the walker, a head would pop up through the panel to greet him. It was the supervisor again. 'You know we have clamps for that kind of thing right? I mean, A for creativity, but even still'. He'd let out a chuckle at this. 'You've made some good progress, this would normally take people a lot longer.

"Use available cover, men." Gunslinger orders, belatedly.

• " Slugger : Finish them off!"
• " Jackpot : New contacts to the North. You may fire when ready."

" Loud and Clear!" Slugger said as he brought Martha to bear in the remaining droids, mowing them all down in a rain of laser fire. After taking the droids out he slid into the cover closest to him as per Gunslingers orders.

Ranged heavy : 2eP+2eA+2eB+2eD 2 successes, 1 advantage, 1 Triumph

28 damage and a boost for Jackpot, he spends 2 strain to take cover.

CT-2112 continues to work on the walker, the hours beginning to take their toll on his energy. He continues to mutter to the walker as he goes from section to section, repairing components as he finds them. He's still in there, trying to bring everything up to full functionality when the timeframe would expire. He's oblivious to it though, given his focus on his work. "Man, they REALLY put you through the grinder didn't they? You are one tough S.O.B, but you don't let people fix you up very easily either huh?"

Jackpot grimaces as he pops up only to get hit in the chest after firing a few shots, he ducks back down quickly, looking around the corner, he sees two droids still standing while one smokes, seemingly on the edge of life and death.

On 3/24/2018 at 9:38 AM, Rabobankrider said:

You will be unable to fight, but the others will be unable to act without your direct orders. You are all completely reliant on each other for survival.

Gunslinger recalls the wording at their mission brief, and decides to act. If this violates the Orders, then they should have worded them more explicitly..

As Jackpot hunkers back down behind cover, the squad leader procures a stimpack. "Stimpack!" he warns, prior to jabbing his injured squadmate.

"I'm all done here, ma'am," Doc would say, ready for the next test.

Anler watches the movements of the Dresselian carefully. He clearly had some natural talent, but as soon as he engages the clone it becomes obvious that he has had little training. His swings are full-blooded with force behind them, but easy for a trained combatant to anticipate and deflect. It comes as little surprise for the Jedi Padawan when Buzzard disarms his opponent. Unwilling to watch what could be a valuable partner humiliated further by the clearly better trained clone trooper, he decides to intervene.

When the clone hands Tannen the stick back, Anler steps forward. "If you are all warmed up, I could use a good sparring session," he says with a grin, testing the weight of the training stick he picked out. It is similar in weight and balance to the sticks younglings train with before they start sparring with training sabers. He pauses for a moment, reaching out through the Force, feeling his surroundings and, of course, the clone. He takes a position and waits for the clone to face him. As he does, Anler strikes with lightning speed, delivering several rapid strikes with short swings, forcing the clone to back up a little and work hard to parry with his own stick. The Padawan then feints high, but reverses his strike and instead thrusts at the Clone's abdomen, delivering a nasty blow against his chest plate.