The Wolf Pack

Chapter 32

Wolffe woke up a few times and only maintained consciousness for a few seconds at a time. The first time was when Sketcher was making the arduous trek back to camp, shuffling forward with snow up to his knees and breathing heavily. He seemed to be repeating under his breath, but Wolffe couldn't stay awake long enough to find out. The second time, he was inside the med tent, Twitch and other two medics were running around, fussing over his body, more specifically, his face. This time, he did notice his depth perception seemed to be off, and the awful headache he had made the lights too bright and the sounds too loud.

The third and final time he woke up, he was aboard the cruiser. He had a few monitors stuck to his left forearm and the med bay seemed to be completely empty, except for another person. It took him a few moments to recognize the black hair, yellow skin and the tiny little horns arranged like a halo on top of their head.

Kriari was curled up on a chair next to his bed, there were deep shadows under her eyes, and even in oblivion, her face was not one of peace. She looked stressed, tired, worried sick. Her brows were furrowed and her lips were tight, her arms were wrapped around her torso protectively and her knees were tight against her chest.

Had he really been wounded that badly? What could have happened that he-

Memories flooded his mind, like a tsunami hitting the Coruscanti city, tearing everything in its path to shreds. He saw brothers falling, stabbed, beheaded, strangled to death by some unseen hand. He saw two red lightsabers and eyes full of hatred for him, for what he stood for. And then, he saw no more. The pain was too great, the blood loss made him dizzy, he collapsed and knew no more.

Ventress.

Wolffe brought a hand to his right eye. It had been covered with a bacta pad. Had he lost it? Was he going to be removed from duty? Had he failed so spectacularly that his superiors would force him to retirement? What other options did he have? He was broken, he was no longer at full capacity, no longer complete. He was a broken man and broken men could not lead.

What would he do? Would he be sent to maintenance? Would he be put behind a desk, organizing some fancy person's schedule? No, he was a soldier, he always would be, they would not send him away from his brothers, from the General -the closest thing he had to a father-, he would be dead before he was made to part with the 104th. And Kriari, he could barely look at her, if he had failed, then it was her who must have faced Ventress in the end. She faced Ventress and he was not there to assist her. Kriari had faced Asajj Ventress on her own and had probably thought he was dead.

Wolffe was not stupid, his loyalty to Kriari was not one sided, his care for her wasn't either. She had been tested in that frozen inferno, and he didn't know if she had passed that test. To think Kriari could have used the dark side in her grief froze Wolffe's blood in his veins. No, she was good and in no way anything like Ventress. Kriari would never become that heartless, that cruel, that violently unhinged. He refused to believe it.

But he hadn't been there, had he? He had made himself into a liability, he had gone and got himself fatally injured when his Commander needed him most. He had been weak. And now he was even weaker, broken, incomplete. All because of one angry lady with unhealthy coping mechanisms and two blasted lightsabers.

He needed to be smarter, faster, stronger, better in every way. He needed to go back to his original strength and then some. Wolffe would train himself to death if it meant this would never happen again, if it meant he could continue to serve by his Jedi's side. If they didn't decommission him, that is.

He realized that wouldn't really stop him, and it was a little frightening. Like hell he would take any job other than that of a soldier. He would become a deserter if he had to, fight from the shadows, keep protecting the Pack however he could. Loyalty was everything to the clones, and loyalty went deeper than duty and always came first. It was an unspoken rule of the Pack: follow orders swiftly until they endanger the Pack. Not one member of the 104th would turn against their own, they would die first.