Captain Cuir

Chapter Twelve

Dusk fell and the wind started to pick up, throwing red dirt around like a petulant child. The air felt heavy and the wind screeched past the clones' helmets. They protected their weapons from the dirt, for a misfire could be their life. Cegal has hesitant to flick on his Headlamps, if only for a second. He felt the urge grow deeper and stronger, till he flicked them on. A flash and he blasted a Droid that was using the weather to sneak up upon the clones. He relayed the information up to Cuir and the walker's massive floodlights nearly blinded him, but unveiled more droids sneaking up on them. After putting them down, Cuir decided to try and put the gunships floodlights on the walker's cannon or them portable. He chuckled as he remembered Ali used to call them "Funships" as a kid. Technically, they were all still kids. In real years, he was fifteen, but in clone years, he was thirty. He pushed the thought from his mind and focused on getting a signal out. The sandstorm outside was fighting him, but the Seps might have been jamming as well. Cuir paced back and forth. Ali was taking care of Tats, ruffling his hair and making fun of his cooking. Tats smiled, knowing it was all in jest. Buir was tending to the injured gunner, who seemed to be falling asleep standing up. The private was sprawled across the floor, helmet still on. Sound asleep. Cegal was outside in the weather, no doubt fiddling with his pistols. He hated them. A low hum caught his attention. The hum grew to a snarl, the snarl to shouts of jubilation. He poked his head out to see a Jedi dismount as speeder bike and walk up. But this Jedi was hairy. He was glad he wore a helmet because he'd never seen a Wookie before.