Obviously Youre Not Sev, Cause You Have A Name, So You That Makes You As Valuable As Me, She Pointed

“Obviously you’re not Sev, cause you have a name, so you that makes you as valuable as me,” She pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

She hated that word, expendable. Her father taught her as a child that life was valuable, all of it, even the copied. That everything was part of a bigger picture and every small detail counted. He was also human given he had emotion towards his squadron. Caring that burned in his armor, even if he didn’t want to admit. There was no need to say it aloud. She could tell, that was all she needed.

“I’ve got a ship a little far from here,” She pointed out in the further depths of the jungle. She also remembered it was beyond a tribe’s territory. Hopefully, no trouble would come to pass. Though, she’d have to make sure he didn’t pass out in that armor.

“If you want, you can hitch a ride with me off this place. And from there, I could help you find your squad.” She offered/

Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.

he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...

breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...

sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.

She pulls out a bottle water and holds it out for him as she sits down next to him without saying another word. They made it this far. Him especially, Sev. Shima could’ve gone on for a little longer, but she wasn’t alone right now. 

She had someone, someone human who wasn’t used to this weather right now, despite being a clone trooper. Clone troopers were fragile, just like any other human, as such they were prone to human flaws.

“You’re welcome Sev.” She said offering him a gentle smile.

Especially getting wet in rain like this. And he was so soaked to the bone from the look of it. Didn’t the clones ever hear of self-care? Or at the very least on planets like this, how to make a poncho? Looking up at some of the trees, she spotted huge leaves. Having an idea, She stood up again and walked to one of the trees. She climbed up the trunks with her talons providing her stability without the need of rope.

Pulling out her arm blade, she cut down on of the bigger leaves, hell, leaves bigger than her entire body. Sliding back down she held it over him, providing some shelter for the two of them both.

Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.

he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...

breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...

sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.

“Alright good to know.”

For a moment she was proud of her idea, always instantaneous and on the go. They knew where to go from here, and were much closer than anticipated. After the man in the comms gave a sense of direction, she doused the flares in a puddle of water, and grabbed her pistol. She also adjusted the strap for her bag, until she realized Sev was booking it, confusing Shima initially.

Then, it hit her. This whole jungle was swarming with not only wookies, but also enemy droids. And those flares? They basically signaled a free for all to their current location, thanks to her.

As soon as the idea clicked in her head, she was sprinting full speed with everything in tow, as the leaves flew off. Soon enough she was catching up to Sev,her talons leaving marks in the ground with every push forward.

Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.

he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...

breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...

sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.

How long has it been since Dana came to this world, and to this small and peaceful town abundant with people coming and going? She didn’t count, but she estimated it to be almost a month. But the pain in her loving heart didn’t stop hurting. Love that will never be requited, and it hurts. The love specifically was over Jean and Logan, and how they were happier together in a menagerie of euphoric love. 

But here Dana was, alone and without that euphoria, and in pain over it.

To try and get it over with for the times to many, Dana decided to go out and grab a couple things for dinner, hoping it will ease her mind off of this. Donning a light blue halter dress, she emerged from the door without her arm, retreating into her body and an eyepatch over her scarred left barefooted. She had no need for her ‘prosthesis’, she was in place with no need of it. Lucie came to her side, trotting with an empty basket in hand. 

The roads and sidewalks were clean, nicely paved so there was no need for shoes. And Dana’s ‘Magpie’ rendered her somewhat impervious to that. She was lost in thought over what kind of seafood to buy when ‘WHAM’ a large shadow emerged, the impact knocking her to the ground. Lucie barked and as Dana looked around to see who it was, it was only when she looked up when she saw who it was. And by Thor’s hammer they were huge.

@multitudescontained​

“Alright, to the wookies we go,” She accepted and began walking in the very direction she pointed. Though if it was necessary, they’d take a break in a couple hours. Not just a break, but for Shima to figure out what she was gonna do with all that armor. She couldn’t imagine anyone being comfortable in that armor, let alone for long period of time.

Even clones couldn’t be comfortable during all of that could they?

A few hours later...

The rain kept pouring with no end, despite making some headway. While Shima could tolerate the heat, she couldn’t tolerate the thought of Sev suffering any further in that armor, even if he didn’t say so himself.

“Hey Sev, do you wanna take a break?” Shima asked her companion looking back at him. “It must be really hot under all that armor.”

Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.

he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...

breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...

sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.

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