SYSTEM OFFLINE.....
DAMAGE DIAGNOSTICS IN PROGRESS....
FUNCTIONS RESTORED.......
REBOOTING.......

Onsole gasped awake. It took him a moment to get to grips with the situation: facedown at the bottom of a small slope, with a blaster mark at the side of borg-construct headpeice. A lucky escape then? [I]And a splitting headache.[/I] The cyborg rolled onto his back awkwardly and slumped against a dead tree. It was beginning to come back to him now. 

Designated transport ship had been taken down by the unexpectedly advanced anti-air defences of the Mando's, but not before approximately 40% of the squadron had been able to initiate an early evac. By separating himself from the main clusters of troops Onsole had been able to make a successful landing, he even estimated that he had a short 1.27 minute burst left in the jetpack fuel tank. Despite a weak connection to what was left of the ship mainframe he'd been able to triangulate the position of the downed 'duct tape express' and make his way to it to salvage what he could and meet up with survivors...So why had he been facedown in a ditch?

The distinctive crackle of blaster fire overhead broke Onsole's chain of thought and snapped him back to reality, of course, the mandos had gotten there first, that ruthless efficiency was something you could depend upon. He dove for a patch of damp undergrowth in the hopes of better cover and grunted as the wind was knocked out of him, a part of him wanted to just curl up and cry but it was swiftly overridden by higher electronics. In such occasions he found himself missing Coruscant.

They'd given him a clear choice, pay your time in dank off-planet Republic mining cells or say goodbye to your personality and serve the galaxy with pride; most opted for the cells Onsole thought grimly as he struggled with unstrapping his jetpack. Judging by the erratic trajectory of their shots his assailants didn't know his location, that slope had most likelu saved his life; it was probable they were lying in wait to mop up any survivors, Onsole had to get out a warning and if possible stay alive.

Waiting for the shots to die down Onsole rose to a crouch position and fired up the jetpack, after a brief but exact countdown in his head he let go and watched as the well angled rocket swirled into the sky. [I]Thee, two, one.[/I] Suddenly there was a small click followed by the explosion of the thermal detonator he'd tied into the straps. The blast ignited the remaining fuel into a bright iridescent ball in the sky, hopefully working as an impromptu flare to signal any of the other survivors. Onsole was already running.