Chapitre 145: Retaliation
"... Brain, where are you?"
"Over here, sir."
Brain pushed his way through the bunched up clones. He had a dark eye, probably because he had resisted their captors. However, aside from that, he seemed okay. Dageer quickly briefed him on what had happened.
"Cell is out there distracting the clanckers, but he won't be able to hold them for much longer. Take all the soldiers who have a weapon, and go help him."
"What about you, sir?"
"I have dispatched the droids guarding the armory. I will take the rest of the men, and get some weapons. Metal, come with me, I have something for you."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, sir."
Brain took eleven men - the same number of blasters they had - and left the barracks. Under Dageer's orders, the rest of the clones started moving out of the building, and going to the armory. Amidst them, Dageer grabbed Dab and Tech.
"Dab, I need numbers. How many troops do we have? How many were captured and how many are dead or wounded. And I need to know about weapons, ammo, armor, medical supplies, everything."
"Yes, sir."
"Tech."
"Yes, sir?"
"I need you to quietly find me a medic. My damn arm is killing me. Remember, don't make a fuss. No need to make the men think I am worse than I really am."
"And how bad is it, sir?"
Tech glanced at him worried. Even Dab, who was already walking away, came back. They had seen Dageer get shot and continue fighting without even frowning. Even when he was badly injured, he still insisted that the other soldiers had to be treated first. For him to actually ask for a medic, he had to be in a lot of pain.
"I don't know yet. Go. We don't have time to waste."
Still looking at him worriedly, both clones left. Soon, Tech returned with Thartam, a 303rd Attack Legion medic. Dageer found something else for Tech to do, and then stayed behind with Thartam.
"Sir, if you could tell me what happened, it will be quicker. This doesn't look like it was made by only one laser shot."
"More likely it was crushed by something, right? It is broken in at least two places. Also, I spent three days hanging from a ceiling with nothing to immobilize it. And only then I was shot."
Thartam tore apart a piece of his shirt, and wrapped it around the laser wound to stop the bleeding. He lifted Dageer's arm carefully, and saw the sub-commander frowning in pain.
"I will have to squeeze it. We are a little short on pieces of equipment. It will hurt a bit."
Without waiting for Dageer to answer, the medic used his fingers to touch the clearly broken bones.
"Ugh!"
"You know you should have been resting this arm, don't you? Why do I get the feeling you weren't?"
"I had to save you. I got some... exercise along the way."
"Yeah... Does your exercise includes punching droids?"
"Kind of. You know me, Thartam. I can't stay put."
"Well, that's true. But don't worry. It is not that bad. Gillie, give me that piece of metal."
While Thartam was examining Dageer, they had arrived at the armory. All the clones were getting blasters, and their armors. The droids had stored them, which was great news for the clones. At least they wouldn't freeze to death. Mygeeto wasn't a kind planet, so the more protection they had, the better.
After receiving the piece of metal - that had probably been part of a crate before Dageer blew it up - Thartam used more of his shirt to tie it on Dageer's arm. The clone didn't like the feeling of not being able to move freely, but the improvised splint would help his arm recovery.
"Thartam."
The medic had already turned around to leave when Dageer called him back.
"Don't tell anyone about how bad it is. Let them think it's just a flesh wound."
"Ermmm... Yes, sir."
Uneasily, Thartam agreed, and left to treat the other injured clones. Both weather and the work they had to do had caused many injuries amongst the already fatigued soldiers. Many were coughing, and quite a few had bruises and broken bones. A small number of clones had been shot during their riot on the barracks, and some were heavily wounded.
"Captain Narza, Captain Hilix! Take twenty men each, and start sweeping the base. Help Brain and Cell, and kill as many of the clanckers as you can. But don't take unnecessary risks. If they are resisting too much, just keep them suppressed. We have to move out shortly, and I don't want more injured men."
"Yes, sir."
"Metal! Come here."
The Hell Squad member quickly approached him, and looked at his arm, but said nothing. Metal was talkative, but he knew when to speak, and when to not.
"This..."
Dageer showed him the light double-barrel repeating blaster.
"... is your new weapon. It weighs quite a lot, but you should be able to handle it. And as you can see, it does quite a lot of damage."
"Timer, see if you can find any sort of explosives."
"Already found them, sir. There are enough detpacks to level a city."
"Good. We are going to need them. Come with me."
Timer was a clone that was always close to Hell Squad. He was also one of the elites of the 303rd, and specialized in explosive devices, including detpacks. Detpacks were small bombs that could be remote activated, and were an old friend of any clone.
The clones were all almost ready. Tech helped Dageer put his armor on, and the tired soldiers lined up before him. Even under their helmets, their eyes seemed to shine with the feeling of transforming a helpless situation in the takeover of a droid base.
"Sir, we have taken the base. All that remains are a few clanckers on the west side. Are you sure you don't want us to deal with them?"
"Stay put, captain. I already said I don't want unnecessary deaths."
Dageer turned off his comlink. Now that he had confirmation that the temple valley was on their hands, he was calmer. Still, they needed to move before Ventress returned with her troops. As much as Dageer liked the idea of ambushing her, he knew that he didn't have enough soldiers for that, and that they were too tired.
"Sir. I did what you wanted. And... it's not looking too good."
Dab approached him with a heavy frown on his face. He showed Dageer the data on the datapad.
"Our total numbers are: one hundred and ninety-eight soldiers. Of those, only one hundred and forty-two are uninjured. Thirty have light injuries, and twenty-six are heavily wounded. We still don't know if they can make it. The clanckers don't have medical supplies. All we have is what we had on us when we were captured."
"How many died?"
"... Seventy-three."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone