Kaiden Rohn
Fallen Soul
@[member="Azara"]
Doc awoke, in a very uncomfortable state. He was a commando first, a medic second. Best of the best. Mandos had a word for it, but he couldn't remember it right now. His Mandalorian wasn't that good, either. He needed to get his bearings...he was in a swamp. Dense. Felt like he needed to be here, though. It was heavy, the air, at least. Humid. Warm. Oh god, where was he? Didn't really matter in the end, because his gunship had crashed. He had tried to escape the shuttle, some sort of engine failure...perhaps sabotage, perhaps not. Didn't really matter now.
Groaning, our poor, heroic and empathetic medic began to stand upwards, picking up his...pistol. That was all he had. That and his trench knife, but hey, that was gonna cut it, wasn't it? Not even a vibroblade. Just a durasteel stabbing tool. So, if a Sith decided to take some revenge on him, that'd be great. JUST great. He had to move, so he salvaged what he could, including his helmet. Sliding it over his face, he began to wade through the swamp water, grumbling that he had grown tired of all this bullcrap and that he needed a vacation.
Unknown to our brave hero, however, there were locals about, and not the 'LOCAL, DON'T BOTHER' wearing T-shirt old people you find, the ones with sharp sticks and didn't take kindly to intruding Republic, or really, anyone. Doc also realized that he didn't really have a plan. He could use one, right about now. And maybe a different MOS come to think of it. Being a dentist in the Republic army would have been a better idea, truthfully.
Doc awoke, in a very uncomfortable state. He was a commando first, a medic second. Best of the best. Mandos had a word for it, but he couldn't remember it right now. His Mandalorian wasn't that good, either. He needed to get his bearings...he was in a swamp. Dense. Felt like he needed to be here, though. It was heavy, the air, at least. Humid. Warm. Oh god, where was he? Didn't really matter in the end, because his gunship had crashed. He had tried to escape the shuttle, some sort of engine failure...perhaps sabotage, perhaps not. Didn't really matter now.
Groaning, our poor, heroic and empathetic medic began to stand upwards, picking up his...pistol. That was all he had. That and his trench knife, but hey, that was gonna cut it, wasn't it? Not even a vibroblade. Just a durasteel stabbing tool. So, if a Sith decided to take some revenge on him, that'd be great. JUST great. He had to move, so he salvaged what he could, including his helmet. Sliding it over his face, he began to wade through the swamp water, grumbling that he had grown tired of all this bullcrap and that he needed a vacation.
Unknown to our brave hero, however, there were locals about, and not the 'LOCAL, DON'T BOTHER' wearing T-shirt old people you find, the ones with sharp sticks and didn't take kindly to intruding Republic, or really, anyone. Doc also realized that he didn't really have a plan. He could use one, right about now. And maybe a different MOS come to think of it. Being a dentist in the Republic army would have been a better idea, truthfully.