[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i]Commander Firtick[/i][/b][/h3]
[color=6ecff6][i]28 pts (Light-Side)[/i][/color][/center][hr][hr]	Commander Firtick was not unaccustomed to loss. Nor were they unfamiliar with the idea that they might die on any of these missions. To lay down their life for the good of the Republic was a high honor; but to continue to serve her would be an even greater one. Their head was pounding and they reached up, feeling the site of the wound tenderly. They felt dried blood crunching underneath their fingers - one of the clankers must've gotten them good, but not good enough. They were still in this fight. "Sorry, what's your designation?" Firtick asked the droid. 

	"My memory's a bit hazy, you'll have to forgive me," Firtick apologized. It must've been the head wound. They could remember bits and flashes - the droids coming upon them seemingly out of nowhere, the General going down... but the specifics, such as how they had gotten there, and what the backup plan needed them to do exactly were escaping them at the moment. "But the self destruct option... We won't all get clear. Take me to the designated point, and then I want you to clear out with Commander Blake. And that's an order, trooper."