Chapter Text
It had all gone to karking hell so fast.
One minute he was on the larty, the nervous and impatient shifting of the brothers around him as they flew into the combat zone was an almost familiar ritual now at this stage in the war. Then suddenly Kix found himself waking up looking at the shredded hull of what had once been the gunship's exterior wall. He lay sprawled out on his side on a lumpy mattress that he didn't want to acknowledge as anything else just yet and partially pinned under a heavy weight that was digging uncomfortably sharp into his hip.
Great.
At least he had woken up.
There was blood in his mouth. He was stiff and the pale purple dew that left a faint layer on all the surfaces in his line of sight meant he had been in this position for a while. His HUD had even slipped into its power saver mode giving him an unobstructed view out of his visor so he had been immobile for at least two hours. The surrounding area was eerily quiet and still. The faint lavender fog was difficult to see through and cast strange shadows across the forest flora he could see through the hull.
As he started to shift about in increments to test his range of motion and see if there were any sharp pains he should be concerned about, it sounded horribly loud to his own ears. The air around him reeked of death and ozone even through his air filters. A vile mixture to say the least and one he had become all too familiar with. Downed lartys were never a good sign and rarely if few ever survived when they were shot down.
Guess he was just the lucky one this time around.
Something was definitely wrong with his left arm. The pain was dulled but trying to pull himself forward with it resulted in an angry throb that had him groaning despite himself. He knew he needed to be as quiet as possible, no telling if there were droids about or if the scavenger fauna of this planet was nearby, attracted to the buffet that had landed on the doorstep so to speak.
His hip was angry too. He had been twisted around during the crash and it resulted in him lying mostly on his left side. He felt along the piece of metal pressing down on his hip and as far as he could tell it was one of the framing supports that ran along the roof of the larty that the hand grabs hung from that had snapped in half. It wasn't one of the critical supports of the ship and it did seem to have some give when he pressed on it and wiggled it a bit. He might be able to shift out from under it on his own and give himself a proper scan.
Kix began shifting his hips about -trying to keep an eye on the support even though he had no plan if it did and actually moved enough to crush him- and activated his HUD. The left side of the display was cracked but the overlay still seemed to work after it flickered a few times in protest. As his eyes flitted about the screen to activate different programs and catch up on what he had missed if anything, he could feel the telltale dry flaky pull on his skin. He had to be out for a while if his head wound had already stopped bleeding.
Even though he was suspecting it, he still grimaced when he saw the HUD time display and realized he had been unconscious for almost twelve hours.
And of course his comms and locator were down.
He hoped Jesse was okay.
With a final twist, Kix's hip was free and there was a heart stopping moment as the support shifted down about an inch before coming to a stop with a dull clunk as it caught in something above him. He didn't waste any time scrambling free on his right hand and knees, his left arm pulled up to his chest protectively despite the pain and he tried to ignore the sharp sting in his hip everytime he moved his leg. It almost felt like something was clicking in there and that was not a good sign.
He gingerly pressed his left shoulder into the forward bulkhead of the transport hold and twisted himself around enough to be able to see through the glaringly large and obvious hole in the side of the ship. He sat there for a moment panting as he looked around at the mangled wreck of durasteel, plastoid and bodies. The stillness in the air told him everything and he couldn't help but shiver as he looked out of the sea of dead vode around him.
It had been twelve hours and no one had come to check on them. No one had sent a distress signal. There was a good chance that he had been the only one to survive the crash. Still, to be sure, Kix activated his scanners in infrared, unsurprised when there were no heat signatures to read beyond the ambient temperature for this region within the larty.
…Karking oisk…
Kix gave himself a moment to hang his head briefly in gref before turning back to worrying about himself. His blaster rifle was lost somewhere in the wreckage and he already knew that searching for it was futile. It had probably broken in the crash and if his arm was as bad off as he suspected there was no way he would be capable of wielding the heavy two handed weapon.
Though he was hardly defenseless. Jesse insisted he carry a hand blaster that looked more like a pistol and Kix was fairly certain it wasn't standard issue. The small blaster fit neatly into one of the pouches on the side of his trauma kit. The backpack-like medpack could also function as a large and unwieldy duffle in a pinch and had several smaller pouches on the side meant to stow medical gear for quick fixes in a pinch. Jesse had pleaded with him for almost a week straight to give up one of those pouches for the small holdout and now Kix had never been happier that he had eventually caved in to his request.
Maker, he hoped Jesse was okay.
He carefully shrugged his pack off and pulled the pistol out. He quickly checked it over to make sure it wasn't damaged in the crash and then set it next to him within easy reach. The next thing he pulled from his pack was his scanner which he quickly ran over himself keeping one eye on the rent in the side of the ship wearily. If it had been over twelve hours and no one had reached the gun ship to check for survivors he was either behind enemy lines or the battle was raging so fiercely that they couldn't spare anyone to do a sweep. Neither situation was one he wanted to be in and as he read over the results of his scanner he wasn't placing his continued chances of survival very high either.
He had been right about his arm. He had a segmental fracture in both the radius and ulna on his left arm, four broken bones in his left hand, several humeral head fractures in his left shoulder joint, a broken clavicle, two cracked ribs, an intertrochanteric fracture in his right hip that thankfully hadn't gone all the way through the bone, a mild concussion, and the various bruises and cuts he would associate with a crash landing. Overall not too bad if he had assistance of some kind but on his own this amount of injuries could be fatal. As it was he was already suffering from shock and exposure, coupled with not being able to walk very far on his own and with a next to useless arm, Kix knew he was in serious trouble.
He tucked the scanner away and began digging around in his pack. He didn't have much to treat the injuries he had sustained -typically he was treating blaster wounds or shrapnel injuries on a battlefield and for something like this he would be calling in an evac- but what little he had would do in a pinch. In the back of his mind Kix hoped he wasn't out here long term simply because there was little he could do for himself if that happened.
With several hypos worth of bacta, stims and boosters floating about his system, Kix made a quick rudimentary sling for his arm out of a couple of compression bandages. He would worry later about bracing it. He had a niggling itch between his shoulder blades that he needed to get moving and if being over a year at war had taught him anything it was never to ignore that feeling. Besides, his vambrace had been damaged enough to hold it out of line and if he tried to remove it now he was fairly certain he would pass out. Carefully shouldered his pack and picked up the pistol with his good hand as he carefully got to his feet.
Now this was where he would put all that survival training to the test.
As much as it pained him to disturb the dead like this, practicality won out. Before he left the larty he grabbed several of his fallen brothers emergency blankets, spare rations and the small personal triage kits from several of their belts, saying a quiet apology and thanks to each. The triage kits didn't have much in them but the bacta shot and pain reliever in each one was going to be vital to him in the next day or so. As were the extra ration bars they had stowed in their belts. He also did a quick check that showed that no one had an intact comms unit that had survived the crash either which meant that he was going to have to do this the extra hard way. Kix tucked the useful supplies away in his med kit after some quick and creative rearranging in the pack before he headed out.
The eerie silence of the forest set his nerves on edge as soon as Kix stepped out from the larty's hull. It felt like half a dozen eyes were watching him as he carefully moved away from the downed ship and into the forest proper. There was a fairly significant limp in his step, the pain relievers keeping the pain in his hip down to a dull ache but he knew better than to jar the injury too much. If he broke the bone in his hip all the way through then there would be no more walking.
He had to be careful.
He kept the pistol in a tight grip as he walked into the forest vegetation, blaster up and ready but he hoped that he could somehow -miraculously- not run into anything or anyone until he reached GAR occupied space. He was in no shape for a fight. As it was, the kick in this pistol was probably enough to fire off everyone of his already traumatized pain receptors so badly that it would cause him to blacked out.
He had the coordinates for where his gunship was supposed to land but that was the only clue as to where the 501st might be. Even then, depending on how that battle went, they could have moved ahead by now or been pushed back or even have had to retreat off the planet. He could be trapped here… alone.
No, if nothing else Jesse would come for him. Jesse always made a point to find him no matter where he was after a battle. Jesse wouldn't leave him. He'd promise to always come back for him repeatedly and as often as he could, as if swearing to it so often would mean that it would alway come true. Kix however was more pragmatic when it came to such things - they were at war and on the frontlines to boot - but one night on leave after too much alcohol and feeling like Jesse was consuming him as he took him apart piece by piece in that hotel room, he had caved and promised to do the same.
…Jesse...I swear… I promise to you… no matter what I'll always come back to you…
And damn him right into the sithspitting Void if he wasn't going to do everything he could to keep his promise.
Kix shivered. The planet's climate wasn't necessarily cold but the fog and prevailing dampness coupled with the low temperature readout on his HUD was not going to help him warm up any. His comms unit and temperature regulator for his blacks were built into his vambrace computer that he carried on his left arm which just like his physical arm hadn't survived the crash intacted.
Figures.
His HUD comms unit ran through the longer range unit in his vambrace but he did have a shorter range unit that seemed to be functional built into his helmet. If he was within fifty meters of another clone he could talk to them and if they had a working long range comms then he'd be able to ride his transmission waves to request an evac. It would also allow him to log into the network, get situation reports, HUD locator on the forward medical station and gain access to the 501st officers' channel. All his problems would be solved if he could just find another vod.
… but first he had to last long enough to find another vod…
He hadn't dared to hang around the wrecked larty any longer. There was a chance he might have been able to repair the ship's transmission equipment but it would have taken him a while and the need to get away was growing stronger in the back of his mind. He couldn't afford to hang around mucking with equipment that he may or may not be able to repair right now. He needed to put as much distance between him and the larty as possible.
Despite his feelings of urgency, he was still in sight of the gunship and even he had to admit he was moving painfully slow. His hip was starting to burn even past the pain reliever he had taken and his breaths were coming in fast gasps that seemed to echo in his helmet which did nothing to make his ribs feel any better. Still he forced himself to press on into the lavender mists, he had to report back to his company. He had to get back to Jesse.
He'd promised.
No matter what happens, Jesse had whispered against his sweat slick skin in return as Kix groaned at how full he had felt. I'll always come back for you, I'll never leave you alone. I promise Kix, as long as I still breathe, we'll always be together.
Maker, they really were stupid… He could have died in that crash, Jesse could be laying out dead on the battlefield even as he thought this to himself. There were so many variables outside of their control to think that they could ever make such a promise to each other. The odds were against them at every step of the way…
But he wasn't about to give up.
He promised his riduur that he would get back to him.
The fog was definitely starting to thicken as it approached nightfall. Kix was starting to wonder if it would turn into full blown rain when he heard the steady drone of a drop ship. He started to breathe a sigh of relief only to nearly choke on his own tongue when he realized the pitch was wrong. The drone had a slight reverb to it that larty's didn't have.
… Karking droids …
He was just out of visual sight of his downed larty but he would still be transmitting a weak signal through his short wave comms and he wouldn't put it past those bastards to have a scanner looking for any energy spikes like what his suits' batteries produced. He couldn't do anything about it if they did a thermal scan. Even if he felt frozen his body temperature was still high enough to easily register on a scanner.
Still he could shut down his HUD and stay as low as his mangled body would allow. It only took him a couple steps for Kix to realize that he wasn't going to be able to keep this pace or stride for long. Panting inside his helmet he slipped behind the strange twisted and deformed looking trunk-like thing that made up this planet's version of a tree that just happened to be a muted brownish yellow in color.
His armor was so brightly painted compared to the scenery it was a wonder the Seppies hadn't seen him just by flying overhead.
Still, by whatever miracle they hadn't seemed to have noticed him. The airship droned about overhead, buzzing about like an irate insect for a few moments before unloading with its primary cannons. For a brief moment Kix thought that they had been aiming for him but the dull whump and sudden shock wave that shook the tree he leaned against told him what their target really had been. He didn't have to look around the tree to know that the crashed ship was now blown apart nor guess what this meant.
He was definitely behind enemy lines if they were destroying downed gunships
Double fuck.
The pitch in the ship's engine changed as it accelerated away. Either assuming that any clones alive would have stayed in the larty or that any had survived and moved off like Kix had would eventually succumb to their injuries before they became a problem. Kix sighed as he rested against the tree feeling even more bone weary and tired than he had before. The latter of those two options was a distinct possibility after all.
Still the clean up crew had failed to do a proper sweep so maybe all was not lost. Maybe he still had a chance to get back to Torrent. If they were just destroying the crashed larties and not doing full sweeps of the area it could mean that the battle lines were still in too much flux and they were looking at weakening the Republic troops before they were overtaken. It wouldn't be the first time that they shot at injured clones.
He had to keep moving.
Kix took as deep a breath as his aching ribs would allow without too much pain. As much as he wanted to move towards where Torrent was he had a feeling that the fighting would be too severe for him to get through Seppie lines unnoticed.
Taking a moment to make sure the area was still clear around him, Kix reactivated his HUD. Torrent was supposed to land somewhere off to the south west of where he was facing but to the north west the 104th’s armored division would have landed. The AT-TE’s were landing on a wide open fielded area to engage the heavy armored units that the separatists had holding the pass. Torrent was going to land behind them to pinch the droids in while providing cover support to the 212th that was further south of their position in an attempt to take the city that the Separatists had held up in.
At least that was the plan but there was no telling what had happened in the last twelve hours of engagement. Still there was a good chance that he was now cut off from Torrent company by droids but he might be able to loop around and meet up with 104th. There shouldn’t be a line of droids between him and the Wolfpack.
… There was just a mountain…
Well more like a long ridge that led up to the mountain that was off to the east. Their briefing had given a name to it but at this point Kix was going to refer to it as the ‘shit damn kriff’ because of course there had to be a mountain right there. The map overlay that he brought up on the HUD claimed that he only had about a five thousand foot elevation difference which would have been an eight or ten hours hike to the top normally but with his injuries it would easily take him three days if not more to get over the damn thing. He could also hurt himself worse attempting the climb.
… or he could head towards Torrent and march right into the middle of a firefight on the wrong side of enemy lines which could really get him hurt worse… or just dead…
Honestly neither option was very appealing and it wasn’t like he dared to stay put with the drop ships roaming around. This one missed or ignored him but the next one might not. Worse if they realized his station and rank and took him in either to interrogate or attempted to use him as a hostage against his company.
Kix let his head thunk back against the bark behind him as he made his less than ideal decision.
Climbing a mountain with one arm, a broken hip and more than a little worse for the wear it was then.