I wake up in the morning, and my bed is soaked with sweat, and my pillow stained with tears. My head pulsates with the worst headache of my life. It feels like I had a hangover, but over one-hundred times worse. I get up and notice that this isn't my quarters. I look around and see that I'm in the medical tent. I've been stripped of my armor, and I don't have my helmet. I look at the table that's in the tent. The reason we have a tent instead of a building is because the building is still under construction. Anyways my helmet is on the table. I get up and my head starts to hurt a lot more. I slowly walk over to the table and pick up my helmet. I hear the tent open, and I hear a gasp. I hear the person say something. The the person walks over to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. He's another clone, but he's in the 337th.
Clone: Hey, you should get back in bed, you need to rest.
Me: My head
Clone: I know, this was expected
He quietly guides me back to my bed, and lays me back down.
Clone: Food will be here soon, and some visitors are wanting to see you. They don't know that your awake yet, but they will be informed soon
I turn my head to look at the clone, and I speak.
Me: How long have I been out?
Clone: You have been unconscious for a a little bit over 30 hours.
Me: Thanks
Clone: If you need anything just find me
Me: Sure thing
I try to pass the time by sleeping but I just can't. The voices haunt me. Devil, Crackshot, Bolt, D, Blast... I look around at the room and I see nothing of importance. I can't stop hearing them. I feel like crying but I hold it in. Eventually I can't hold it in anymore. I sob. I cry. The voices say that it wasn't my fault, but at the same time I hear the screaming, the fire, the explosions, the chaos. I calm down after an hour, and a few people come in. They tell me about the effects of PTSD, and about the Thousand Yard Stare.
Me: So this can effect my combat effectiveness?
Doctor: Well the side affects can, like loss of sleep, or loss of appetite
Me: I see, and what can I do to help this?
Doctor: We will assign some medication, and that's all we can do
Me: Alright thanks
They leave a pill bottle on the table beside my bed, and leave. Within the next few minutes I hear the footsteps of more people. I look to my right and see Chuck and Angel. They walk up to me and speak.
Chuck: Hey man
Me: Hey Chuck
Chuck: How You holding up?
Me: I have some medication, and my head hurts like hell
Angel: Well that's understandable
I let out a light snicker.
Me: So one day huh?
Angel: Yep, that new kid
Me: Yeah, what about him?
Angle: He died in the assault
Me: At least we didn't get to know him
Angel: Yeah, he really didn't stand a chance
Chuck: It's still a trooper of the 212th
Me: Yes, it's the job we were made to do. We die.
Chuck: That is true, well we should go
Me: Yeah
They leave the tent and I close my eyes and go to sleep. I wake up again, and try to sleep but I can't. I look to the ceiling. They were right. I smell food coming into the tent. I'm given a tray that has a few things. I quickly eat, and then stand. That's when I noticed that the headache is gone. I exit the tent and look around at the base. The men are working hard, and I go to my quarters. I look in the mirror, and at my scared, pale, dirty face. We sadly don't really have any showers to use, and so I just lay down. I just think. I do need to get my armor. I'll do it tomorrow but now I rest.
YOU ARE READING
Star Wars: A Lost Trooper
ActionCT-1209, nicknamed Ace, and later on Spirit, was not ever like the other clones. He had luck, a personality, and more feelings. On the outside he was just like the others. One day he was lost while on patrol with other 212th troopers. When he is fou...
