[Kallile]

The warmth from the still far-off volcano could be felt at the edge of the Roraldi forest, making the chilly fall day pleasant and bearable. The trees were more sparse here--plenty of clearing space to have a small family picnic. Kasari grinned to herself--she still wasn't sure why she and her daughter and decided a fall picnic was a good idea and then reminded herself that it was because Alana really hated bugs hungrily eyeing down her food.

Carrying the small basket, Kasari handed the clique red and white checkered blanket to the little six year old girl at her side. Alana took it eagerly and set about putting it perfectly flat on the ground--something the breeze did not want her to accomplish. Her dark black/blue hair tied back in a little ponytail with a few stray bangs falling into her face, Alana stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on her task.

Kasari watched her for a moment, her own lemonade-blonde hair streaked with natural dull orange highlights blowing freely in the breeze. Both girls had on long sleeved t-shirts and jeans, though while Alana had opted for a zip-up hoodie, Kasari had opted for a light jacket.

There was a crunch in the leaves behind her, and Kasari turned in time to see a metal creature lurch from the bushes at her. "Alana, run!" She screamed before everything went black.

~*~

All she could remember was a dark room with a spotlight on her, lying on some sort of surgical table, circled pictures of identical men and one very angry gothic girl. And the sharp, throbbing pain in her chest. Kasari found she couldn't really open her eyes, but the bite of the breeze and the occasional smell of sulfur told her that she was right back where she'd started. She blinked a few times, looking around her blearily.

The basket was crushed, the blanket shredded. Food and containers were strung all around her. But there was no Alana. Kasari opened her mouth to speak, finding that her jaw was almost too sore to move, She winced in pain, noting for the first time that her feet were not on the ground. lucidly her yes drifted up to find a rope attached to a thick branch above her. Slowly, she became aware of the bonds wrapped around her arms and waist. She sputtered out a mouthful of blood and felt herself slide back out of consciousness.

"Alana...."

~*~

Sobbing heavily, Alana sat in an old hollow and dead tree in what must have been a fox or raccoons old burrow or stash for winter. She could feel the curious insects reaching out their disgusting feelings to see if she was food or an enemy and she sobbed harder. Something had taken her momma--she'd heard them come back not long ago, but she was too afraid to go and see what was happening. Maybe they were waiting for her to come back to try and help her mother--that's what all the bad guys on her favorite cartoon movies did.

This time, however, she didn't have a brave prince or anyone who could help her fight off the bad guy. She didn't have a wand, or a magical instrument, or any kind of super powers. She was just a little, terrified girl who was cold, covered in bug and dirt and tears.

She heard someone call her name and poked her head out of the tree. She could see, far, far away, her momma hanging up in a tree. Way too high for her to reach. And she could see the metal things walking around--and even though they got smaller and smaller as they walked away, Alana didn't dare move. Maybe her momma was....was...

Another sob wracked through her little body as she pitched herself backwards into the tree. She just wanted to go home...

[1,1]

[MillietheWarrior]

(Recoil's Human Form ----- Trinket's Human Form)

“Prudii is insane, don’t you think, Trinket?”

The silent commando didn’t say a word, simply tilting his head to the side curiously. Even if Recoil couldn’t see his brother’s face, he knew exactly what was going on in his head. “Yeah, I think so too. But he is a Null; what  can you expect from ‘The Bonkers Squad‘?” Recoil responded for him, as if anticipating his answer. Trinket nodded his helmet walking silently alongside his gun-loving brother. The two had been sent on patrol not long after Madeline and Prudii had arrived back at the base; although Recoil wasn’t exactly enamored with the crazy, slightly insane, and very, very rude woman, he wasn’t going to begrudge his lieutenant the chance to be happy.

Trinket, meanwhile, seemed almost fond of Madeline, thus his silence on the matter. Not that he’d have said much anyway, but he still didn’t think badmouthing Madeline or Prudii behind their backs would help solve any of the problems. “If you ask me,” Recoil began, snorting softly. They were walking along an overgrown path, rifles held up at chest level and sensors and senses on high alert as they scanned the immediate area. “The whole thing is-” But Recoil didn’t get to finish. His words were cut off by the very distinctive, very familiar sound of metal clanking together. Trinket instantly leapt into the brush, yanking Recoil along with him. His brother yelped loudly, though the sound was cut off from the outside world by their helmets.

“Droids,” Trinket whispered, voice soft and hoarse from it’s time of disuse. Recoil nodded, righting himself beside his brother as they crouched in the bushes, watching silently as the droids marched past them. “How many?” Trinket asked, waiting for his sharp-eyed brother to get an accurate tally. “Looks like…two companies. About 20 total. Too many for us to take on alone.” He paused. “And they’re not headed towards the base…Where are they going?” He looked confused, his helmet tilting towards Trinket’s as the two shared a glance. Trinket shrugged and fell into a low crouch, as clear indication that he intended to follow them.

The droids were far enough away that they could neither see nor detect the two silent commandos, so they didn’t have to worry about being quiet. Trinket leveled his Deece at the droids, and began a slow, ambling walk through the brush, tailing them quietly. Recoil pressed a button on his gauntlet, sending a silent message back to base and to Solus and Kicks; they’d know exactly what it meant, and they’d be able to track their signals with no problem (As long as Recoil remained alive). Recoil started out at a crouch, following slowly along behind Trinket. They’d tail the droids for a mile or two, see where they went. This was definitely something they needed to keep an eye on.

[1, 1]

[Kallile]

Kasari closed her tired, swollen eyes as she listened to the metallic things clank their way further and further into the distance. They had dropped her right where they had ambushed her from--what was going on? Why? She felt her chest throb again and slowly became aware that she hadn't just been punched or hit. No, this was a precise pain. She had been cut. her heart pounded at the base of her throat--that explained the surgery table she remembered. The only problem was not knowing...was she a ticking time bomb? She didn't really want to find out the hard way.

~*~

Alana whimpered softly as she watched the droids march on their way. They didn't have her momma with them--they had left her in that tree. She gulped down her sobs, blinking watery eyes as she peered out of her hiding place. Well, they were gone now, at least. She stayed where she was--too afraid that one of them might turn around and see her.

It seemed like hours had passed to the small six-year-old girl before two new people crawled by. They were metal looking like the bad guys...but they were actually man-shaped. Alana blinked as they crawled by her tree, watching the guns as the swiveled on their backs. She poked her head out after they had past; an almost instant realization that they were following the droids hit her. And they had things that could protect them! Maybe...

She didn't even have time to think things through further. Her mother needed help, and these man-shaped metal suits were currently the only things that looked like they might be helpful. Scrambling out of her tree she went into a blind run after them and nearly leapt onto the brown and white armored man's back as she let out a heavy sob.

She clamped her eyes shut tight. If they were bad guys too, she didn't want to see any pain coming at her. She'd rather just do what momma had told her her old goldfish had done: just closed his eyes and went into a forever sleep.

[2,2]

[MillietheWarrior]

To say that they’d been expecting to be blindsided by a small, crying little girl would have been a complete lie. As it was, Trinket felt something clamp onto his back, froze, and proceeded to let out a very undignified, very un-manly scream as he bolting up into a standing position. Recoil swiveled instantly, rifle trained on Trinket’s back and the small thing that had launched itself at him. He was expecting a droid, a bomb, heck, even a raccoon…But he was not expecting the crying, shivering little girl clinging for dear life to his brother’s armor. “Stay still, Trink,” Recoil said calmly. Trinket froze instantly, eyes wild as he wondered what was going to happen to him. He, of course, had no idea it was a little girl, and could only think the worst. Recoil reached out an gently pried Alana off of Trinket’s armor, holding her awkwardly as he chuckled.

“Wow, Trink. Didn’t know you could scream like that. Well, don’t worry. I neutralized the threat; an evil, bad, mean little girl bent on destroying you by hugging you to death, it looks like.” Trinket slowly turned to observe the tiny girl Recoil now held at arm’s length. He immediately reached out to take her from his brother and gently cradled her in his arms; if Recoil could have seen his face, he would have seen the confused, bewildered look that Trinket currently wore. He tilted his helmet up at his brother, and Recoil shrugged as if in answer to the silent question the squad Medic had posed. “Dunno where she came from; just kind of flew out of the brush.” Trinket looked worriedly down at Alana, and then reached up with his free hand to remove his helmet; all he knew was, that if it had been him in her shoes, he’d have been scared stiff of two giant men in armor.

Clipping his helmet to his belt, Trinket smiled shakily, trying not to look as freaked out as he was. “Hey, it’s all right,” he said, his voice very soft. “Your fine now. What’s wrong? Why are you out here all alone? Where’s your family?” Recoil blinked, and reached up to pull his helmet from his head; that was the most he’d heard Trinket say in years. He glanced over his shoulder, and silently cursed. “Shab,” he muttered. The droids were gone; Recoil had a general idea of the direction they took, but he had no idea where they were going, so a general idea was useless. “Lost ‘em…” He looked back at Trinket, and sighed as the medic gave him a look; he shouldn't be using that kind of language in front of a kid. Recoil ignored him. “What the shab is going on around here?”

[2, 2]

[Kallile]

As her current anchor bolted upright, Alana screamed as well--more in shock and fear that she wouldn't be strong enough to hold onto him than anything. She clung to him as tightly as she could--taking in gulp after gulp of air to both scream and sob...and then she found herself floating. Freezing in place, she turned her head to see who had her only to find a cold, empty looking visor that she couldn't see any eyes through.

Her lip quivered dangerously, and her already tear-streaked cheeks found themselves flooded again by a new wave of tears as she hiccuped out a few sobs and resigned herself to the fate of being held by this metal man. This lasted only a few moments before the one she had clung onto took her into his arms not unlike how her mother would have, and Alana felt instantly comforted even though he still looked terrifying. She stiffened when she heard the hiss of air come from the helmet, but was quick to push herself against Trinket's chest plate and hug as far as her little arms would reach around him.

"M-my momma..." She managed to sputter out in between sobs. "They--they hurt my momma..."

Her tiny finger pointed in the direction the droids had disappeared for only a fleeting moment before she clung to the stranger again. She didn't care that he was covered in metal and was altogether terrifying; he was being nice and that was all Alana needed right then. "Please...please mister!"

Pulling her head back her dark blue eyes frantically flew between the two men, though it didn't register in her mind how alike they looked. She was too scared to realize things so obvious right now. "You've gotta help m-my momma..."

The last sentence brought on a renewed strength to her sobbing; she wasn't even sure if the bad-guys had left her momma alive. She just hoped so; and if she hoped enough, then just maybe her hope would become real.

[2,3]

[MillietheWarrior]

Recoil looked rather confused. He had no idea what to do about a crying, hysterical child. Trinket, however, seemed completely at ease as he rocked her gently, looking more worried than confused now. He wasn’t sure exactly how she’d gotten here, or why she was here in the first place. She clung to him desperately, so he could assume something bad, if not terrible, had happened. This worried Trinket almost as much as her current mental state. He shot a glance at Recoil, who looked as lost as Trinket felt. As she managed to sputter out the words she seemed to have been trying very desperately to get out, Recoil followed the line of her finger, and was somewhat shocked to see something hanging from a tree far off in the distance. “Trink…” he murmured softly, sharing a worried glance with the medic. “I think that’s’…”

Trinket frowned and turned, following Recoil’s line of sight, and felt his heart freeze up. Even if his eyes weren’t as sharp as Recoil’s, he knew exactly what he was looking at. He looked down at the top of Alana’s head, and gently pressed his gloved hand to it in a reassuring touch. “Don’t worry,” he said, his unused voice still hoarse. “We’ll help your momma.” Recoil growled softly. “Trink, we can’t get involved in this. They’re civilians. It’s not our-” But Trinket cut him off with a look that was darker than any Recoil had ever seen before. His voice was no more than a cold whisper as he spoke. “Really, Recoil? Because I think those droids being here in the first place is our fault. And Madeline was a civilian too, and look what she did for Prudii. We have an obligation here; and I already told her we were going to help. So that’s what we’re going to do.”

Recoil sighed in resignation, and rolled his dark green eyes. “Fine,” he muttered, jamming his helmet back on. “Lets roll, then.” The two commandos hurried towards the body hanging from the tree, Trinket still cradling Alana close and reassuring her that everything would be all right. As they reached the tree, Recoil stood back slightly and shook his head. “Shab,” he murmured. “I can’t…Believe those droids…did this.” Trinket shook his head, trying to hide his revulsion at the sight, before he gently set Alana down, making sure she wasn’t facing her mother. “You need to stand here, ad’ika. Don’t move. Don’t turn around. We’re going to help your mother, but she might be in a lot of pain when we cut her down. It’ll be okay, though. We’re the good guys.” He patted her on the head, and then stepped forward with recoil at his side. With a ‘shunk’ sound, Trinket and Recoil both ejected their vibroblade, and began to saw through the ropes binding the woman.

[3, 3]

[Kallile]

Alana seemed to calm herself some in Trinket's arms. She was scared, but the truth was that she had all but cried herself dry. Everything had happened so quickly and the young child was left with no one to trust but these strangers--something she was sure her momma would scold her for later. ...If these strangers really could help her.

Her teary eyes gleamed pathetically up at Recoil at his first protest to helping. She wasn't sure what a 'civilian' was, but she knew that these men thought she and Momma were 'civilians'. Her bottom lip wobbled dangerously until Trinket quickly ended the argument.

Alana allowed him to carry her towards the tree where she knew the metal-things had put her mother. She was too tired to protest, and she felt safe with him and his constant reassurances. Yes...maybe everything would be alright. She could believe that. She looked up at him with large, slightly bloodshot blue eyes and nodded slowly to his request. She wasn't sure she wanted to see what would be happening. The 'shunk' made her gasp and shudder, but she closed her eyes tightly rather than turning around. He had told her not to...and she wouldn't.

~*~
The sight the men came upon was far from flattering from a woman who would have otherwise been very attractive. Her eyes were deeply bruised and swollen, small cuts on her cheekbones dripped with blood sporadically. Cuts and bruises ran all the way down her neck and disappeared beneath her blood-stained sweater. Her hands were dripping with blood and her knuckles were nearly torn apart; she had fought back against her metal attackers even after it was apparent that her fight was in vain. She drew in a sharp, pained breath as they neared.

Kasari's mind swam in a sea of pain and delirium. She could hear the blades practically being sharpened as they ejected and her mind flashed with images from the surgery she had just had. They had put something inside her...yes. Something bad. She felt herself fall a little and her eyes flew open, blindly looking around in her panic. Though she had only dropped a few centimeters as the ropes slowly gave way to the blades, it had felt like miles to her.

As the last threads gave way and began to break it became quickly apparent that the woman lacked any coherency or strength to catch herself when the last thread finally snapped.

[3,4]

[MillietheWarrior]

Trinket winced slightly as his blade cut through the bonds. As Recoil severed the last of the ropes up top, the woman came crashing down, and it was only Trinket’s quick reflexes that allowed him to catch her before she smashed into the ground. He wrapped an arm around her back, gently easing her down, and glanced up at Recoil, frowning slightly. This wasn’t good, and the look he shot his brother was enough to convey his worry. They’d need to get her back to the base; they couldn’t just leave her and her daughter out there alone to die. But they’d need to be quick about it. Recoil and Trinket weren’t sure when the droids were going to come back, but they knew there must have been a very good reason for them to leave her here like this. Trinket jerked his head slightly in Alana’s direction, and Recoil nodded silently, turned to head back to the small child.

As he reached her, he kneeled down in front of her. “We got your mother down, kid. She’s still alive, but we need to get her back to the base so we can fix her up and make her all better again. Come on.” he held out his arms. “It’s a long walk. I’ll carry you.” Mostly, he just wanted to get her mind off her mother; the kid didn’t need to see the woman looking like that. It would tear her apart even more. Trinket, meanwhile, was gently checking Kasari’s pulse, two fingers placed gently on her wrist as he kneeled beside her, and rested her back against his raised knee. “Ma’am?” he said softly, lifting her eyelids to observe her pupils.

“Ma’am, can you hear me? You need to stay awake. We’re here to help.” He looked over the scratches and wounds along her body, frowning slightly at the amount of blood she was covered in; this was not good. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to move you to carry you back to our base. We’re going to look after you. Is anything broken? Can you move?” He shifted slightly, one arm moving behind her back, and the other beneath the bend of her knees. He waited patiently for a response, wanting to make sure she was conscious before he lifted her up; if she had any broken bones, he’d know the moment he moved her.

[4, 4]

[Kallile]

Alana could hear all the crashing and the leaves shaking as the weight of her mother left the branch. She winced, sniffling softly as she curled her knees up to her nose and hugged her legs to herself. She wanted to look and know that her momma was really alright...but the man had told her not to. She heard footsteps behind her and looked up to see one of them--the one with his helmet back on. She winced--she wasn't sure she liked them with their helmets on.

As he spoke to her his words made her shiver and almost melt away from his outstretched hands. He wasn't reassuring or soft-spoken like the other one. Not to mention the words 'still alive' made her let out a dry sob. No, he was defiantly not used to children. But Alana relinquished her fears and allowed him to pick her up; she didn't want to be left out here if they were going to take her momma with them. She looked back at his hidden face and pulled her head back. "I don't like that..." She whispered out, reaching out and timidly pointing to his helmet.

Kasari's eyes moved around slowly and lucidly--a dead gaze. She was still piecing together where she was and what was happening. All she knew was that she was on the ground (she thought) and someone or thing was touching her. At his calling, which sounded miles away, her dark navy blue eyes drifted up to Trinket and she looked at him as if he were just another part of the woods; another tree she might have fallen against. It was what he was saying that she was trying her best to listen to...but there was something important about his face. Hadn't she just seen it?

Base. What was in a base? She blinked, trying to make her foggy mind clear and allow her to think clearly. Soldiers were in a base, yes, that was right. Soliders were in a base and...

Her eyes suddenly snapped wide as he moved to lift her, her ripped up hand shooting out to grab his. "N-no!" She choked out hoarsely, still trying to fully find her voice. "You can't...something's wrong...with me. Put something in me....saw your faces all over the walls. Don't bring me to the base....something bad....will happen."

Her hand fell away and tugged down at the already stretched neck of her shirt--revealing the top of a freshly sutured scar that started and inch or two belong her collar bone. "Your faces...were all over the walls..."

~*~

From their binoculars miles away, a pair of sentry droids laughed in hollow, metallic laughter as they watched the two Clones struggle to round up the woman and child..

"Hey, they're taking the bait!" one exclaimed in true amazement at the plan working. The other angled its head in what seemed a pleased manner.

"Roger roger, better tell the big bosses it's a success!"

[4,5]

[MillietheWarrior]

Recoil knew he wasn’t great with kids. How could he be? He’d never been around them. But he knew that, if Trinket was looking after the woman, it was his duty to look after the kid. He felt a little bad for being so callous about the way he’d informed her about her mother, but really, what else was he supposed to say? There was no gentle way to break that kind of news, so Recoil just did the best he could with what he had, which wasn’t much. Instead of comforting her, he’d probably scared her even more. Trinket would scold him in his own silent way later, but right now, Recoil and his brother had bigger things to worry about than the emotional comfort of a little girl. He held her against his hip in a way he’d seen a father once hold a child in the town nearby, and frowned slightly behind his helmet when she pointed at it. With his free hand, he reached up to remove it, still wearing a frown. “Don’t worry,” he said as kindly as he could. “This lets Trinket and I talk to each other; it‘s not really that scary.”

He held it out for her to inspect, holding it so the colorful lights inside lit up brightly. He smiled and tilted his head. “I’m Recoil, by the way. That’s Trinket,” He pointed at Trinket, who currently had their back to them. When he saw the woman move, he instantly positioned himself so that Alana was no longer facing the scene his brother was dealing with. “What’s your name?” Calm, keep her calm. If they went crashing back to the base with a wailing, sniffling girl, they’d probably draw a lot of attention and Recoil knew that the attention would probably be from the droids. He had no idea why they had been in this area, but apparently, I must’ve had something to do with this little girl’s mother. Recoil chanced a look over his shoulder; what could be so special or different about that woman that would make her a target for the Seps? All he knew was that he had a bad feeling about all of this.


Trinket, meanwhile, was trying his very best to deal with the situation at hand. He was pretty sure nothing was broken, because the moment she woke up, she began thrashing about, saying something about faces on the wall and something bad happening. His hands immediately shot out and clamped over her wrists to hold her still and keep her from aggravating her wounds. Trinket looked at a loss as to how to approach the situation. When she had pulled at her shirt, he’d seen the scar, but he had no clue what it meant. She said they ‘put something in her.’ Some kind of mechanical device, perhaps? A chip? A tracking beacon? A homing signal? What? What was it? Too many questions ran through his mind, and Trinket had to close his eyes for a moment to clear his head as he looked back down at the woman with brilliant, light gray, nearly white, eyes.

“Ma’am,” he said quietly, still holding her wrists so she couldn’t move. “I need to get you back to the base. If I leave you here, you’ll die. Your wounds and injuries are extensive. I don’t have the proper equipment here to take care of you.” He transferred one of her wrists to one hand, so he held both in the same hand, and reached down to gently touch the top of the scar peeking out of the top of her shirt. His frown wobbled, and he blushed a bright red, trying very hard not to freak out about having to touch a woman. The scar looked as though it extended down her chest and beneath her shirt. He frowned, and instantly withdrew his hand as if he’d been burned.

“Ma’am,” he said, his voice shaky as he tried to ignore the fact that the two of them were so close. He hadn’t thought about it before; he just treated her like another wounded brother. But she was awake, and she was a woman, and she was not one of his brothers. She was an entirely different species to him, and it made Trinket so nervous his brain could hardly function. “M-ma’am, c-can you tell me…what they…what they put in you?” he managed to murmur, his voice hoarse and dry with confusion and hesitancy. “Maybe…I can help get it out?” He didn’t know what he could do, but if she gave him a clue, maybe he could do more than just sit here being nervous and useless and acting like a stupid child. Trinket felt his face flush a bright red again; this was very embarrassing.

[5/13, 5/15]

[Kallile]

Alana watched the man warily as he fidgeted to get her to a more comfortable position to hold her in, big blue eyes watching his helmed face with wide eyed fear. As pulled her shoulders back from him a little as he took off his helmet again and held it down for her to see. With a testing glance back up at him, she carefully wrapped her small fingers around the rim of it and peered down inside. Tiny lights danced around and a small screen showed the ground below them, now upside down. Smiling softly, Alana looked back up at him with a moderately improved level of trust. "You have TV in it too?" She asked softly as she held her hand far, far away from the actual interior of the helmet to point at the screen.

"How do you talk? There's no walkie-talkie in here..." She mused quietly to herself, twisting her head around to see better rather than pulling the helmet anywhere. As she grew more curious than scared, she wrapped her arm more tightly around Recoil's back as far as she could--clinging to someone had long been her primary comfort. She halfway peered up at him, weighing if she should tell him her name. Momma did always say don't tell strangers your name, address, or phone number. Or never follow them if they had candy. Well...this man didn't have candy...and he had given her his name. With a soft and trusting smile, Alana released the rim of the helmet and hugged herself to Recoil's side. "I'm Alana. But don't tell momma I told you--she'll be upset with me a'cause you're a stranger."

Kasari gasped at his grip and instinctively pulled away with as much force as she could muster. i was far from enough, and she found herself still trapped by this strange man. Her breathing rate leapt through the roof as panic gripped her hazy mind, now wondering what this man really was after. Her eyes slide between focuses as she tried to look up at him and keep herself somewhat calm. This was fine...it had to be...he had said he wanted to help her. He was from a base--that's right, the base. Soliders were at bases. Right.

"You can't" she insisted again, her voice sounding more hoarse than before as it refused to relax from her latest panic. "Someone wanted you--red circled faces with names under them. Like yours. They were--they were all over the room where they cut me open..."

She felt like she was sinking into the ground and arched herself to try and make the feeling stop. It felt like the ground had become quicksand. At his touch she winced painfully, deep lines of pain etching themselves into her face. When she managed to force her eyes open again she found him looking not like the confident solider from a moment ago--but more like a terrified child. She writhed slightly in his grip, trying to get a hand free. A new fear gripped her--this man was going to bring her back and she was going to be the cause of some...some explosion or mass slaughter or something. Those pictures on the walls, circled in red, were not circled for friendly reasons. If he wasn't going to be able to take whatever it was out, then she was going to do it herself. She did not want to be a walking bomb or whatever she currently was.

"I don't know..." She answered feebly, willing him to just understand for one minute that something was wrong and needed fixing. "I don't know what they put in me--why they picked me. But it's there now, and I don't know what it is."

The color on his face made her terrified and heartbroken all at once. Maybe he'd never one anything like this before, maybe he was just as afraid as she was...but that was not what she wanted to see right now. "Stop that," She said softly to him, fighting hard to keep her eyes focused on his face. "You have to do this...or you have to leave me here and let me die."

No, she wouldn't resign herself to be some test dummy or mobile, unwilling bomber. She wouldn't let him resign himself to being afraid of her either. "And if you choose the second part...please find my daughter."

[5, 6]

[MillietheWarrior]

Recoil was glad to see she wasn’t as freaked out as she’d been before, but he knew that the moment she saw what was going on behind him, and saw the state her poor mother was in, that may all change. “Er, well, not exactly a TV. Mostly, they’re small screens, a bit like little TVs, but they show us what’s all around us, instead of cartoons. They help us detect those bad metal guys from before, and they make sure we know if something or someone bad is out there so we can make sure to stop them from hurting anyone.” He neglected to say that they’d failed to help her mother in time, but Recoil and Trinket hadn’t even been in the area when it had all gone down, and neither of them even knew what was going on. Well, Trinket probably knew more than he did; Recoil was currently in the dark about the entire situation. He shook his head and turned to point at his helmet. “See this?” he said, pointing inside the helmet to a small blinking screen. “That’s a very high-tech walkie-talkie. It helps us talk to our boss so we know what to do. It’s like a phone, but for your head.” He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell if you won’t.” He paused. “Alana, I need you to tell me something important…Do you know why your mother was taken by those metal bad guys?”

Aw, shab. That was pretty much the only thing going through Trinket’s mind at the moment. What the heck was she talking about? For a moment, his embarrassment and nervousness was swallowed up by confusion and curiosity. Red circled faces…Like his. Red circled faces of Clones? Trinket narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at the ground as he tried to process the information. If that was the case, then something was very, very wrong here. “They cut you open,” he murmured, repeating what she’d said. The cut on her chest…That must be what she was talking about. “It…It’s something bad.” Trinket knew that for sure. If the Seps had picked her up, cut her open, and put something in her, then there was definitely…Something wrong. He let go of her hands, and reached behind his back to pull a small field med kit from his belt. “I…I can get it out…m-maybe. It’s going to hurt, but I can numb it as…as best I can.” He had sedatives and anesthetic  that would help keep out most of the pain; but regardless, she would still feel something. Like he said, he didn’t have the proper equipment to take care of her, but if she had some kind of device in her…He couldn’t take her back to the base. He fumbled with the med kit, pulling out a syringe. “I-I can’t leave you here…so…” He fell silent as he prepped the needle, glancing quickly over his shoulder at Recoil. “We-we have your daughter. She’s safe; my brother is looking after her…” He reached down to place a finger just above  the spot on her chest where the incision started. “If you…don’t…mind…” he murmured, trying to quell the flush that came across his cheeks.

[6/14, 6/16]

[Kallile]

Alana listened in typical childhood amazement; Recoil might as well have been holding a magicians magic top hat and telling her the secret to pulling a rabbit out of it. She still didn't allow her fingers to stray further than the rim, but she followed some of the blinking lights as if she were the conductor and they were her orchestra. She smiled softly, blinking up at Recoil at the question he asked her.

The smile quickly disappeared and was replaced by a rather fearful face. It was hard to tell what all she had actually seen before managing to escape, but it was safe to bet from the look on her face that she had seen just a little too much.

"I...I don't know." She whispered out, releasing the helmet in favor of clinging herself more closely to Recoil. "Momma and I were going to have a picnic...and they jumped out of the bushes at her. Momma told me to go hide and I did; but when I came back..."

Tears brimmed her eyes once more--renewed from the few moments of peace she had had. "They had momma all bloody and they took her away. They thought her name was Bait--they kept on calling her that." She whimpered a little, pressing her cheek against his chest plate so she wouldn't have to look at him as she fought back tears. "I don't wanna talk about it no more, Mr. Recoil..." She whimpered softly.

Kasari peered up at him from her half-opened lids, neither smiling nor frowning. Her face was blank and for the moment emotionless. There wasn't time to be scared and she was too tired to be brave. If her daughter was safe as he had said--then all her life's work was safe with her. What happened now didn't matter too much.

She watched him carefully; had this been any other day she would have been greatly amused by the fact that he was so timid about touching her even with gloves on. However, the current circumstances had her less than pleased with the nervous display. "Just do it."

Her voice was tired and getting more ragged by the moment. She suddenly tensed and reached her hand up to grab the cold and unyielding metal coating to his upper arm. "Just...if something happens...and I don't ..." She paused and choked down her tears at the very thought. "Don't just dump my daughter in an orphanage. Please...find someone who will love and care for her. Can--can you do that for me?"

[6, 7]

[MillietheWarrior]

Recoil instantly felt bad for brining up the subject, but he had to know. He wasn’t sure what all this meant; why were the droids even after them? He didn’t know if it was some ploy to destroy the base (Although how could it be? These women had nothing to do with the base) or if it was some kind of new way to get people killed. Recoil was just as confused as Alana and Kasari were, though he tried very hard not to let it show on his face. He ran his free hand through his gray and green hair, managing to hold his helmet in his other hand as well as Alana, and looked somewhat lost. None of what she was saying really made any sense.

Sure, it made sense in that it had happened, but it didn’t make sense as to ‘why’ it had happened. Bait. Bait. They’d called her bait? Recoil glanced over his shoulder at Kasari and mentally cursed; that wasn’t good. Bait for what? He reached down and clipped his helmet to his belt, reaching behind his shoulder to pull his rifle out and settle it on his opposite hip, eyes warily glancing around. “Trink, whatever your doing to help her, get it done fast. We need to bang out of here, now.” He flicked the safety off on his blaster, and frowned, turning to glance at Alana as she pressed her cheek against his armor. “Don’t worry, ad’ika. You don’t have to talk about it anymore. We’re going to keep you and your momma safe.”


Trinket managed to glance over his shoulder, nodding at Recoil even though his brother wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment. He turned back to Kasari, looking somewhat nervous as she spoke. “All right,” he murmured, before he tapped the vial and gently inserted the needle into the spot just above the wound. When the serum was gone, he rubbed two fingers over the spot, and placed the sharp back in his med kit. He gazed down at her face for a few moments, before he sighed. “I promise,” he said with a nod, knowing he’d never just dump the poor kid off at some orphanage. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, before pulling a scalpel from the med kit.

The nervousness and shakiness disappeared from him completely as he pressed the tip of the surgical instrument to the top of the wound. He pulled a wad of gauze from another pouch on his belt, and pressed it to the top of the wound. He’d done things like this thousands of times; he was a field medic. He was used to cutting people open and dealing with horrific wounds. This was the same thing. He just pretended she wasn’t a woman, and was one of his brothers, hurt and in need of medical aid. The scalpel pressed into the skin, and he slowly slid it down as he re-opened the wound. “How deep?” he asked. “Can you feel it?” He pulled the shirt down a little, trying to staunch the blood flow that had begun by using the gauze and the torn fabric of her shirt.

[7/15, 7/17]

[Kallile]

Alana kept her face buried against his armor, looking idly at the ground as she fell very quiet for a few minutes. Even through the armor she could hear Recoil's heartbeat pick up and it scared the young child. If the good guys were getting nervous--would everything be alright like they told her it would? With a shaking sigh, she looked back up at Recoil. He didn't seem very happy by what she'd been telling him, and she frowned slightly as she watched his face contort between thoughtfulness and worry.

She cringed and wriggled in his grasp as he pulled the blaster rifle into view, her eyes wide and suddenly panicked. Her entire body quivered in his grasp until he reassured her that he and Mr. Trinket would keep everyone safe. Still watching the blaster warily, she nodded slowly. "Okay, Mr. Recoil..."

But she didn't seem quite satisfied, her face moving in small but nervous patterns. "Mr. Recoil?" She asked quietly. "Do you have to hurt people to keep them safe?"

Kasari fisted her torn hands as the needle slipped under her skin and the serum sent a dull burning sensation through her skin until it became numb. She closed her bruised eyes and took deep breathes that mimicked Trinket's. Not that the serum was really all that painful considering what the rest of her body was dealing with, but she couldn't deny that she was nervous. She was awake...for a surgery. Mentally she coaxed herself to believe that it couldn't be any worse than what had already happened today and to just not think about it.

She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and bite down until she could taste the metallic sting of blood. She was numb, true, but that didn't mean she still didn't know what was happening and what it should feel like. She tried to concentrate on the stranger's breathing--at how calm and collected he'd become the instant he took the surgical instruments into his hands. That, she scolded herself, was the kind of discipline she needed right now. She did her best to lay still and let him work even when she could feel the warm, wet sensation of her own blood ghosting over her skin.

"When I first woke up," she started, keeping her eyes closed and her fists clenched. "There was a pain in my ribs. I don't know if it was from a punch or from whatever they put in me."

She cursed her helplessness--she couldn't even tell him where it was. Well, she knew it couldn't be too deep, or else her breathing would be much more labored. If the pain in her ribs wasn't from a hit of some kind, she feared that maybe they'd tried to implant whatever device into the taunt muscles between her ribs.

[7, 8]