Moments In the Woods | Talbot & Alec

[Natasi Fortan]

He knew it for a long time before he said it, even to himself.

The two men had gotten into a spat with Alliance forces on their approach to the Imperial operations base. Their mission had been to recover any intelligence they could from the base and extract any survivors, but they never made it, but instead encountered a column of Alliance troops. Their stealth failed when Talbot accidentally shifted his weight, snapping a twig beneath his other foot, causing a curious Alliance soldier to scrutinize their position a little too much.

The resulting firefight had been terrific, the swamp lit up in vivid red and orange as laser fire and explosions volleyed between the two groups. Talbot was considering a tactical retreat even before it happened, a feint to fall back and circle around to the base. It would take longer, but it might allow them to complete their mission. But a nearby explosion, a hail of shrapnel, put a stop to his plans.

All of them.

After a First Order TIE strike left the rebels in disarray enough to let Talbot and [member="Alec Sienar"] slip away with the remainder of the scout troopers that they had met up with along the way, Talbot paused behind a tree and pulled his camouflage poncho back and immediately regretted the decision. A twisted root of some damned swamp tree stuck out of his side, the force of an exploding thermal detonator enough to have forced the sharp end to pierce his armor and embed itself in his core. But it wasn't until he looked at it -- really looked at it -- that he suddenly felt the pain.

Not just pain; fear, too. He knew enough about field first aid that this was not something they could handle in the field. It might not even be something they could handle in an actual hospital. Dagobah was teaming with life -- bacteria and germs not least among them, and God only knew what he was being infected with at that very moment. One of the men inquired after him, and he quickly pulled his poncho into place, suppressing a grunt. Luckily the black armor would stop the blood showing too much. "Just having a splash," he grunted back, waiting a moment before stepping out from behind the tree.

"Let's get on with it." The faster they got to the base, the faster they could exfiltrate. There was still hope; besides, the base was closer than the nearest First Order LZ, which would be over an hour's walk, assuming he could keep that pace. Already he felt weak, although he couldn't be sure that was not a psychological effect of looking at his wound. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Snapped twig like some goddamned cartoon. Nice going, fool.

He kept up for twenty minutes before stumbling. He waved of Alec's help, blaming a twisted root. It's not inaccurate, he mused to himself, smirking sardonically. But a few minutes later, he stumbled again, and this time he could not find the strength to pull himself up. The already fair-skinned Galidraani had gone white inside his helmet, and with every breath, he tasted blood. He tried to pull himself up, managing to rise to one knee before collapsing forward into a puddle. Talbot didn't even have the strength to call for help.

This cannot be happening, he told himself.

A part of him whispered back: Don't be stupid. It's already happened.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Talbot Vitalis"]

This was what Alec had wanted again.

The feeling of adrenaline rushing through his veins and spurring him on. His carbine leaning on his shoulder as they marched through the swamp, even the mud and filth couldn't break his stride. Him, Talbot, like the good old days of taking names and earning glory to good old fashioned bloodshed. It was war and that made these feelings acceptable to a civilized being.

What happened in the war stayed there, didn't it?

"Splash?" Sienar mumbled while looking over the scans the scouts had transferred over to his data-wrist. It looked fine for the most part, it would be a while before they could link back up at base camp. "Who knows what kinda crap's laying 'round here, Tal, at least keep your mouth closed." He shook his head, but grinned to his friend from over the data-wrist.

Vitalis looked a bit... sick, but Alec couldn't really blame him. "Told you, ain't a pleasant thing to have in your mouth." They walked for another twenty minutes. It was mostly in silence, the last thing they wanted was to have another incident.

That branch beneath Tal's boot had karked them all to the Balance.

But Alec wasn't about to remind him of that. They had mostly gotten out alive after that, well, the ones that mattered anyway.

Then Talbot stumbled, he already moved in to help, before being warded off by an... ashen-white Tal. "Sure it ain't the danky water? I am sure I got something for your stomach." They kept walking, but Alec kept an eye on Talbot. Something was off and Sienar wasn't sure what it was. Until his friend stumbled again, but this time the collapse was complete.

He turned around to make a joke and then he saw Talbot couldn't actually stand up again.

"Feth. Tal, what's wrong?" Sienar ordered the other scout troops to spread out a bit for a makeshift perimeter check, then immediately went over to Tal. Kneeling in the filth and the mud, it was there that he noticed... karking kark. "Tal..."

This was serious.

Very serious.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Talbot looked up, somewhat surprised to see Alec there so quickly. He put his hand in Alec's, clasped his wrist and tried to pull himself up, but he couldn't find the strength for it. "I think..." his voice weakened as his vision blurred. "Oh God," he moaned. "I think I've made a mistake." His other hand reached up to push his helmet off, revealing a starkly white face with a shocking crimson smear down his chin. He coughed a mouthful of blood, reached up to wipe his mouth with his forearm.

"Should I pull it?" he whispered, his eyes going unfocused as he tried to grope for his friend's shoulder, but his arm dropped like a leaden stone. "It might be..." Another cough, another mouthful of blood, a torturous stab in his torso. "... the only thing..." A ragged gasp and his eyes closed. "...keeping my insides... inside." He chuckled to himself, the chuckles dissolving into another bloody coughing fit, after which his labored breathing continued for a few moments.

"A soak in bacta... isn't gonna do it... is it?"

[member="Alec Sienar"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Unfortunately for Talbot, he never quite got around to soaking in bacta. He died very soon after uttering those words, the ghost of a wry smile haunting his face -- a face too youthful to be a death mask in any sensible world. In his final moments, when he was too weak to speak or quip but not yet weak enough to pass from the world, he thought with rue that the greatest tragedy of the situation was that his wife had been right all along. A hoarse exhale from his nose, blood splattering his chin, and he was gone, becoming nothing but ungainly weight in his friend's arms.

Fin.​