Clone Trooper Tumbler - Blog Posts

'So that's what Fox meant about not minding a squeeze...' Bite thought to himself, assessing the trooper poking out the ceiling.

"I appreciate the warnings, I know kark all about these vents so what you say goes on the droids. And don't worry about the stretcher, wasn't intending on trying that, too bulky, don't move fast enough. Wanted to ensure there was a way to get to an injury even if the situations a little complicated."

Was Bite rambling, he thought he was rambling. The trooper had him pinned with his eyes and while Fox let him know when he arrived he'd have to earn being a Corrie he really wasn't sure how and he really couldn't afford to loose the trust of potential patients before he even gained it in the first place.

"CMO let me know when I arrived. Sometimes, he and the other medics can't get to a patient because the roots blocked, so I thought it was worth investigating. Thanks for the info... actually is it ok if I call you Vod or would you rather I use your name? Should have asked."

Bite has managed to get more flustered in the last week with the Guard than on any ops mission in recent memory. New rules, new brothers, and a whole lot of new medical files to learn.

Hey Vod, you Tumbler? One of the commanders sent me when I asked about covert routes through the senate. Apparently, you are the guy to ask? Kark, I completely forgot to introduce myself; names Bite, transfer from GAR stealth ops, combat medic. Nice to meet ya.

(Feel free to ignore)

Tumbler pops his head out of the vent like a demented Jack in the Box, casually crooking his elbow to rest on the lining of it, dust and cobwebs coating him from bucket to boots probably. A spider skitters across his visor as he stares down at Bite.

There seems to be something heavy about the gaze he levels on the former GAR vod, almost assessing and most certainly judging. After all, Tumbler did not have the highest opinions of the GAR. But, a vod is a vod.

"Well, don't know about Covert routes...I just know eighty-five percent of the Senate Rotunda and Senator Suites ventilation system, none of which are wide enough to fit a hover stretcher. If you're planning to traverse the vents, you need to be willing to befriend droids and know when to back the kark off because they can literally cause a vent to collapse with you in it and make it look like an accident. So no kriffing Droid hate, my relationship would be called into question with them if you mess up."

He pulls himself out of the vent and allows gravity to yank him down to the ground, landing safely as he stands tall and folds his arms. One hand lifts to point at Bite.

"You also need to be good with insects crawling over you and being prepared to fight off whatever poisonous pet that a Senator's lost."

Mallet nearly leapt out of his skin.

Process of elimination, combined with previous conversations about vents, helped him realize that it was probably Tumbler. He seemed like a kind soul, if not a bit oblivious sometimes, and Mallet was really looking forward to getting to know his ori'vod. But now, with his composure hanging on by a thread, the shock of Tumbler's entrance smashed down the walls he'd so hastily thrown up.

The tears started rolling down Mallet's face faster than he could stop them.

As soon as he saw that the barracks were miraculously empty, Mallet stumbled in and nearly collapsed onto his bunk. His hands, which he'd forced to be steady for the last half hour, started trembling.

Of all the senators he'd had to run into during his patrol of the Senate building, it had to be Orn Free Ta.

He yanked off his bucket and put his head in his hands. As he tried to breathe, Mallet decided that it was better not to say anything. It had barely been a week since he'd joined the Corrie Guard. He was sure that his ori'vode had dealt with much worse over the past two years. The least he could do was keep to himself, since it wasn't an emergency.