Everything Broken: A Star Wars Story

Chapter Ten: We're all Clones

(A/N: Volin Draag at the top, the padawan mentioned in the previous chapter. if you wanna read a little more about him you can find him here: https://www.deviantart.com/moonwatcher337/art/Volin-Draag-Colored-846080888 )

Umbara was dark, and without proper night-vision gear, was nearly un-navigational. Because Kidara didn't have that gear, Obi-Wan forbid her from entering combat herself. With enough insistence though, Kidara was donning a standard regulation medical band on her left arm. With a med-pack slung across her shoulders, she walked to the landing ramp of the Umbaran base.

"Kidara?"

Kidara whipped around, the familiar voice coming from behind her. when she saw the older togrutas face, she smiled instantly. "Omara?"

Omara was a creche nurse when Kidara was a youngling, and constantly found herself tending to whatever wounds the young padawan had acquired on dangerous missions with Quinlan.

"What are you doing off that nutrient drip? And when did you become a medic?" Omar laughed, pointing at the band on her arm that matched her own.

"When did you become a field medic?" Kidara laughed. "I'm not allowed into battle. Don't have sufficient gear. And I woke up in the medbay a few hours ago. I'm okay though."

Omara laughed. "insufficient gear never seemed to stop you and Quinlan before." Omara used Quinlans name like it was poison in her mouth. Kidara winced at the mention of her former master, but shook it off. "You were barely on that drip for a few hours. You sure you're okay? What did Obi-Wan say?"

"Obi-Wan's a bit more careful," Kidara smirked. "He actually cares if I get hurt."

Omara laughed, and studied Kidara a bit more. "You look sick, Kidara. Are you hurt?"

Kidara sighed. She knew Omara had a tendency to kick into 'full combat medic mode' around her. She also knew if she didn't tell Omara exactly what was wrong, she'd figure it out eventually and Kidara would suffer the consequences for it later.

"Just a bit tired is all." Kidara rubbed the back of her neck.

"That isn't what I mean," Omara took her chin in her hand, turning Kidaras head from side to side. "You look gaunt. Like your body is shutting down."

Well that was stark.

"I'm okay, Omara. Really." Kidara pulled herself away from the medic, pulling Obi-Wans cloak closer around her frame. "I just need to sleep."

Omara crossed her arms. "You would have gotten that if you stayed in the medbay, Kidara."

"I'm needed on the field." Kidara said in protest. "I'll sleep when the men can sleep."

"Really, Kidara. You're going to get yourself killed. You can't help them if your dead." Omara had a less playful tone in her voice now.

Kidara decided to take her chances. "I can't help them if I'm asleep, either. I'm fine, really."

Omara grumbled and slung her medpack over her shoulder. "Lets meet up with the men."

The 212th was significantly smaller than Kidara ever remembered. The vode stood in perfect military lines, blasters across their chests, but Kidara could see that they were exhausted. The slight hunch in their shoulders, and the way they shifted between each leg told Kidara that they hadn't slept in a long time. Waxer was walking back and forth, the platoon leader, briefing the men with his shoulders rolled back, trying to seem more confident than he was. Kidara heard him yell something about the enemy wearing clone armor as a disguise, and a few of the men grumbled in protest. The two medics stood at the back of the rows of men, Kidara checking to make sure her lightsaber was still holstered on her belt.