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"Yeah! Where the hell did those damn pilots go????"

"What do you need?"

Gamma 747 spoke: "I've got everything, you need! They call me 747, cause i'm packed!"

(( With broken ribs......))

Omega looked around again. He looked to the side of the ship and saw they were landing. Touching down the Jedi got out and went to reach for Omega and he pulled his hand away.

" I can do it....."

He got up slowly and groaned. He walked to the pilot and tapped him.

" See that? Yeah....GO! I cant sit here any longer."

" Your death trooper."

The LAAT took off and flew next to a LAAT calling for back up.

Zeta crouched next to an armless clone and checked his vital signs. None. Shaking his head slightly, he looked up at the Jedi on the LAAT. It was a different LAAT than before, but the same Jedi. The other gunships had been ferrying wounded troops back and forth. It was a logical cycle- the LAATs would ferry troops into combat, expend their ammunition, then pick wounded up on their way back to resupply, repair, and refill with troops, if available.

It served Zeta 006 fine. It gave him a constant stream of medical ships to work with.

"Alright then, trooper. The battle lines have moved a bit as you can probably tell, so we'll move you up to recover those left from an area that's less hostile now."

"Yes, sir." Zeta refilled his medical supplies and got a new stretcher before he grabbed a handle that hung from the ceiling and rode into a different area.

((medics don't move in clusters... field medics are interspersed with the troops... they only really work together in groups in field hospitals))

Zeta recovered his twentieth and twenty-first Jedi for the day when he was summoned back to the LAAT. The Jedi who'd been sticking with him since the battle began took the two of his wounded comrades and lay them gently on the floor of the gunship, which had been covered in thick blankets and the material from temporary housing tents. "Alright, it looks like there's not much else to do here. We'll take another LAAT to the center of action."

"Yes, sir."

"I will be helping you."

"Yes, sir."

The Jedi jumped off and hailed another gunship, which descended towards them slowly. The two hopped on and the ship took off. Suddenly, a salvo of missiles streaked past them. Zeta at first assumed they very narrowly escaped the missiles, but soon realized that they were not the primary target. Snapping his head to look out the retracted doors of the gunship, he watched silently as the payload headed instead for the fleeing LAAT that was carrying the wounded he'd placed on it not even minutes ago. The rear gunner tried in vain to blow the threat out of the sky, but his efforts were fruitless. The missiles found their mark, reducing the gunship to a fiery, molten mass of spiraling metal.

Zeta gripped the doorway instinctively as he felt his own vehicle shake from beneath him. He released his grip, then resumed it when he felt it shudder once more. Both of the disturbances were accompanied by incredible noise, which was fortunately filtered by his helmet.

Turning to look now past the nose of the LAAT, he saw a hailfire droid explode against the ground, followed by a few of its fellows and infantry-type escorts with more shuddering roars from around Zeta's head.

The Jedi looked clearly frustrated. "Filthy seperatists... killing living beings without sacrificing any of their own..."

Zeta and his Jedi companion leapt of their gunship and into the fray. The Jedi's lightsaber was up at the same time as Zeta's blaster, and they scrambled through the ranks of the clone troops. The Jedi pointed, "Over there!" and the medic followed his hand, then turned in the indicated direction. The Jedi was fairly handy to have; he split apart battle droids and deflected fire away as they pursued the huddled bundle of robes on the ground. Zeta flipped them over, and only extensive training and the fact that he was a clone kept him from gasping in disgust. The Jedi was groaning loudly, their face and skin over the neck had been completely torn off, and they had two bloody protrusions poking from the top of their head, obviously from something ballistic rather than a blaster.

The clonetrooper plucked a jar from his belt and upended it over the wounded being's face. Powdered filtered out, gently peppering the wound with a light blue dust. After applying a few layers of the stuff, he returned it to its place and drew a seringe, taking out his vial of anesthetic as well. He judged the being as a devaronian based on an easily attainable blood sample, and so the Jedi's horns were also judged to have been affected by whatever blast had felled him. Zeta plunged the needle into the Jedi and yanked it out, returning it and the vial to their respective pouches. Now he drew out generous amounts of synth skin and applied them to the face and neck of the Jedi, bandaged him up, and rolled him onto the stretcher he detached from his back. Both of them were soon up and moving, with the uninjered jedi staying close to protect them.

613 removed his helmit as soon as he had entered the LAAT that had come to pick up the rmaining VIPs. Wiping the sweat from his brow he similed as he looked around the compartment, spoting the VIPs bound and under heavy guard he smiled. His job was done until he was moved to a new area with a resock of power packs for his rifle. Removing the rifle from his back he ran a quick check on it. Discovering a couple of burnt out power couplings, he quickly pulled some spairs from his pack and replaced the burnt out ones. It wasn't the greatest fix, but it would last until he could get to a real shop and work on it. Then a explosion rocked the ship. Looking out the open side he saw a hailfire droind rolling towards a LAAT picking up some wounded, and his ship. Sithspit! making his way to the cockpit 613 shouted at the pilots, "We need to help that other gunship! their going to get pounded down there." The pilot turned to him and quickly said, "It is not conclusive with our mission profile yo help them, their on their own." Curseing to himself he made his way abck to the open hatch he saw the droids escort turn towards a jedi and medic pair running across the battlefield with a streacher floating along behind them. Sith with this! If the pilots not going to help them, I've got to do something. Spoting some repeling ropes on the wall he grabed one, a few packs of ammo from an other marksman in the gunshipand his helmit and rifle. Hooking the rope into the slot on the floor of the gunship he jumped out of the LAAT, quickly falling towards the surface of the planet. Looking down the saw that the rope wasn't going to reach all the way, so he prepaid himself for a hard impact. As the last of the rope passed through his hands he gripped it as tightly as possible, trying to slow his fall. Then he was freefalling the last few yards, watching the ground hurry towards him. Apon landing he tucked his knees into his chest and rolled over onto his back, despite the roll he was sure he heard something snap. Either way he rolled over and pulled his rifle out, quickly taking aim at the outside droids on the out side of the formation he pulled the trigure. Barely bothering to check his aim each time he began to take out the droids aiming at the medic and his escort.