Saga G-847's Trial By Fire...A Tale of the Battle of Geonosis

PART 1: A CLONE FORGOTTEN.
With a pain like fire coursing through his skull, Skip awoke. His vision blurred, and he felt like he would pass out again, or die. Coughing he removed his helmet, gasping for air. His vision now cleared, and the gravity of the scene he was in took hold. He lay a few meters away from his burning transport, thick, black acrid smoke was all around. He Sat up, immediately he felt a shock of pain up his right side. He looked at himself, his armor was cracked and broken all over. He could see his bare flesh, peppered with small pieces of metal, and smothered in dried blood and soot. He looked back over his shoulder slowly to the burning wreckage, he looked for other survivors, but only saw a pilot missing his head, and an engineer mashed between the rocks and the belly of the craft.

It was evident what had happened, judging by the large black hole where a repulsorlift use to be. He didn't remember what happened aboard the ship, but it puzzled him as to how he was alive and away from the ship, where everyone else was dead, or missing. He looked to his helmet, the communicator antennae in the top was mashed, and useless. He thought the ship's comm unit might be operational, but he could hardly move, and he would have trouble getting to it. Slowly he began to crawl. Looking from side to side he observed the vast lonely desert of Geonosis that he was trapped in.

Ever so slowly he crept. The pain in his side and skull grew with every inch he moved. At this point the ten meters might have well been a mile to Skip. He stopped, letting his blurred vision subside, and the pain lessen. As he grew closer he hear something. He realized it was the chatter and crackling of the ship's radio. He urged his body on quicker, a pick up was only meters away. Finally Skip collapsed upon the deck of the ship, panting. He pulled himself into the co-pilot chair in the mashed up cockpit. He reached for the switched labled: PRESS TO TALK

"Hello, this is Unit G-847, My transport crashed, all crew are dead, except for me, over" There was a crackle from teh radio when he released the switch

"Hello..this is command..whats you pos 847?" A quiet raspy voice said

"Thank the maker! I'm glad to hear your voice!...I have no idea where I am, can you track me by any means?" Skip said exitedly "There is no way to tell this area from the next sir...Can you send help?"

"We will try, I'm dispatching a gunship from the main battle area now" Said the voice at command "If you have visual anytime soon, notify immediately"

"Will do..over" Skip said slowly "Sir....What happened to the rest of the group?"

"..Some have reported in, two others are missing Skip...Sorry, they are classified MIA, the others have gone to their objectives and completed them, and are en-rout to rear command" Said the voice, with slight hesitation "Over and Out for the time being"

Skip slowly slumped down in the chair. He reached overhead for the medpac, He quickly injected the bacta in to his wounds, and felt the immediate pain relief. He pulled out the disinfectant and sprayed it on the wounds. After he was bandaged, and medicated, he went to the weapon rack at the back of the ship, he grabbed a DC-15 and slowly walked out of the ship. He sat and propped himself against the smoking hull.

Skip awakened to the sound of fighters screeching by above him. He then saw the LA/AT float over a cliff to the east. It slowly and carefully touched down about one hundred yards away from him.

*Look for Part two soon*