Captain Cuir

Chapter Seven

It hurt. It hurt so much. He'd never felt so much pain in his life. He didn't know how it happened. It was in his sheath. Buir was a good medic, but he needed a painkiller. Bad. Buir was. . . Good. But. . . The painkiller. . . Th. . . That would be nice. . . Suddenly, Tats fell unconscious. Buir shouted and Ali rushed over to help him. "GET THE BAG GET THE MED BAG PILOT GIVE ME A HAND TATS STAY WITH ME!!!! EVERYONE IS GETTING OUT!!! TATS!!!!" Then. . . The scream of a cat and an explosion. They must smell the blood. And there was quite a bit. The explosion would hold them back for a while, but not for long. "Cuir had better hurry. I hope Cegal caught up with him." They worked fast to revive Tats. When he did wake up, his eyes were glassy. He was pale. He needed blood. Luckily, everyone could give it.

Cegal wondered what Cuir meant. He shifted the sword on his back. Did he know about the sword. The truth about it? That he didn't really get it on Kamino? No, he couldn't have. Cegal was part of an attatchment to a special forces unit when he got it. Very few knew of the unit. It was formed for one purpose, then disbanded. They were a hit team. A Republic hit team designed to make the assassination appear Separatist in every way. If Cegal knew, he must have been a part of that team or at least connected to it. But Cegal didn't mention it. He did mention Cegal taking his helmet off more often though. Cegal RARELY took it off. But he'd taken it off twice in the last day. Cegal wondered too. It felt. . . Wrong wearing it lately. Commander Wolffe had lost an eye. So why did he feel the need to cover it and his scars? Maybe because the scars spelled out a word: inhuman. The chakaar carved it into his face. But they called him Cegal because it was in a bar when he caught up to his mutilator and killed him. Slowly. Deserved what he got. Cegal was one who was not to be trifled with. He made sure his gun was loaded then revved it up. He'd even named the thing. He called it cuy'val Dar. It meant those who no longer exist. For when he let loose, his target ceased to exist. "All clear Cap. Nothing for. . ."