Trinity sat behind her huge desk, glaring at the ceiling. She was bored. B. O. R. E. D. Bored. She swiveled in her chair, fingers ghosting over the scar that bisected her face, reminding her of the good times. The times when she was a leader in the Marine Corps, respected, loved, she missed shooting and fights and boozing with the boys on Friday nights or after missions.
God she wished something exciting would happen for once in this backwater town.
It was a nice place to live, hidden away from mainstream society, the town folks knowing each other by name, but there was no action what so ever. Not even the bars could host a good rowdy crowd once in a while. But nope, everyone went to church, sipped beer while watching the sports channel. God she would give anything to be dropped into a warzone right now, just got see something more exciting than the rush to the local Bass fishing tournament.
And, as if her answers were heard, a booming crash disturbed the peace and disturbing quiet of the compound, sending Trinity out of her chair, pressing her hands to the window, eyes widening with glee at the sight she beheld just a few klicks from the compound walls.
Sweet baby Jesus in a side car going 90!
Her glee instantly froze, eyes widening as she looked closer at the wreckage. There were wounded, some already lying on the grass, others stumbling from the burning hull of the aircraft, if it could be called that.
Spinning, she dropped into full combat mode, yelling at the top of her lungs as she flew down the hall ways of the compound.
“Wounded! We got wounded! Maximus get a god damn stretcher!”
The crash site wasn’t too far, thank god. Trinity sprinted, skidding to a stop beside the first wounded she came too, barely noticing the strange helmet, along with the strange armor like uniforms. All she did was yank the helmet off, checking a pulse before yanking the chest armor away, gauging the wounds with a cold calculation that she had developed over the years.
“I need plasma and compression bandages over here! Now!” Yelling over her shoulder as more of the occupants of the compound spilled out, rushing towards the crash site with medical supplies in hand.
She glanced up as four more stumbled from the wreckage, two dressed like the other wounded, the other one was a tall man, clean cut beard the color of light caramel and burning green eyes. His clothes were strange, but no one noticed, all eyes locked on the man with yellow painted armor slung between him and the grey painted man.
The two men flinched as her men raced up, but smiled and nodded respectively as they took the wounded man he was carrying, quickly and carefully carrying him into the compound. Trinity slowly stood, her eyes locked on him and the other standing at his side. His gaze caught her own, eyebrow’s shooting up as he watched her take command.
She was used to this by now.
She was a woman, and a woman in charge of so many men wasn’t something most people were comfortable with.
She half turned, pointing down at the man she had just finished bandaging. “Max, get this guy next. Heavy chest wound, check for shrapnel and internal bleeding.” Turning again she scowled at some who were standing off to the side, looking lost. “Stevenson! Take Lex and Troy with you to the medical bay, I bet they will need extra hands right now. Carl, Sam, Will get hoses out here and take care of that fire, I don’t need the local constable up here upsetting the wounded.”
As her men scrambled to do her bidding, she strode to the two who were still standing, snapping a salute. “Master Gunnery Sargent Trinity Sinclair, United States Marine Corps, retired. We’re taking the wounded straight to the medical bay. You’re men are in good hands.” The bearded man smiled kindly and nodded but she could see the flash of surprise and confusion in his eyes.
“I owe you thanks Miss. Sinclair. I am Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, General for the Galactic Republic. This is Commander Wolffe, these were his men as well as the 501st. The man in yellow is my second, Commander Cody. But, for now, perhaps you could tell me what planet we landed on?” Trinity frowned, but as the helmet came off Wolffe, she stood blinking at the sight of the identical face of those who were wounded.
Before Trinity could respond, her name was shouted, making her head whip around.
Maximus was booking it across the field, blood splattered across his chest eyes wide, scarred lips open as he came to a skidding halt beside her, only slightly out of breath.
“Ma’am! The guy with the chest wound, he’s fading fast! We need you in medical right now!”
Without thinking, Trinity spun and booked it, long legs carrying her across the wet grass, past stunned faces of soldiers who had minor wounds, through the hallways, straight to pre-op.
It was a small room, containing nothing but a wall of sinks and racks and a bench covered in discarded jackets. Trinity didn’t pause for a heartbeat, yelling for gloves and a mask as she scrubbed, nearly taking the skin off her hands in her rush, glaring at the x-rays that were presented before storming into the makeshift ER, straight to the soldier fighting for his life.
Trinity worked, elbow deep, ignoring the blood that stained her clothes the sweat that clung to her skin, working diligently but quickly to save this boy’s life. She paused only slightly, glancing up as a commotion came through.
Two of the men were glaring at Stevenson who wouldn’t allow them into the ER. Stevenson was short compared to the two towering beings who were glaring daggers at him. To his credit Stevenson didn’t flinch, but the look on his chubby red face meant that he had feeling his Napoleon complex raise its ugly head with a roar.
“I can’t let you in! This is an ER! Not a god damn social! Now get the hell out!”
Wolffe, she recognized him only by his scar and mismatched eyes, snarled darkly, living up to his name.
“You’re going to step aside or I will shove my blaster in a place you really don’t want it!”
Trinity cursed, yelling over the din of other operations taking place.
“For gods fucking sake Stevenson! Drop you’re fucking reg’s and help them fucking scrub up! I need hands in here god damn it! I got arteries that need to get fixed and shrapnel coming out the god damn wazzoo!”
The man looked like he was about to blow and artery but did as he was bid, thank god. He was a jackass, a complete and total asshat, but he knew when to fallow orders that were given to him.
Trinity grunted after pulled yet another scrap of metal from the unfortunate soul’s chest. But he was a god damn fighter, his heartbeat was strong and steady through the whole ordeal, having seemed to come back from the brink as soon as her hands touched him. She would have sworn that he smirked as she cussed at him, telling him he needed to stick around, and if she didn’t she was going to kick his soul back into his body then bitchslap him back to whatever planet he came from.
This man was strong, so damn strong. If he pulled out of this in one piece she was going to lay one hell of a lip lock on his ass.
“What do you need us to do?”
Glancing up, Trinity felt relief wash through her at the sight of the two men now garbed in medical gowns, gloved and covered with masks and hats.
Falling into medic mode she nodded to the boy on Wolffe’s left, “I need you to watch the blood pressure gauge, if it dips down from where it is now, tell me. Means he’s fading. Wolffe, get your hands in here. I need you to keep pressure and use suction when I call for it.” Both men did as they were bid, Wolffe instantly by her side, huge hands hesitantly moving in beside her own.
She sensed his nervousness.
He didn’t show it, being the strong leader type he clearly was, but she could see it, in those mismatched eyes of his. He was scared for this man, or, he was scarred that he was going to do something wrong and make her loose him.
Trinity could feel herself softening slightly. She had been in his boots too many times to count.
She gently bumped his shoulder, gaining his eyes as she worked, all too familiar with what she was doing. “Don’t worry. He’s a god damn fighter. His heart hasn’t wavered since I started working on him. And I swear to god the moment he’s awake and alert, this mother fucker is getting a lip lock laid on him!”
The man manning the gauge laughed his ass off, but quickly sobered when Wolffe shot him a glare. Trinity smirked, nudging her assistant again. “Pull out. I got everything. Time to close up.” Looking up she shouted out, “Stevenson, you’re on 24 hour watch! I don’t want these boys alone for a fucking second!”
Stevenson growled, but nodded, stomping away, leaving Wolffe, Trinity and the yet to be identified man to close up the wounded. Trinity glanced at the man on the gauge, studying him. Even with the mask and hat on his head, she could see that the three were identical, same as all the other men who had come crashing down to Earth but Obi-Wan. Glancing back at Wolffe, she finished her last suture and nodded for the nurses to take him into Post Op.
Trinity sighed with relief as the trip moved to the pre-op, nodding as Wolffe silently helped untie her gown. “So, what exactly are you guys? You’re clearly human, but there is no way your all identical twins.” Wolffe and the other paused, glancing at each other before the other spoke up clearly surprised by the question. “We’re clones from Camino. Helping the Jedi fight the Separatists. Where have you been for the past few years?”
It was Trinity’s turn to frown. Separatists? Jedi? Clones? What the hell? Then she frowned to herself. She had seen it all firsthand. There was no way that aircraft was from Earth, and the uniforms all seemed to correspond to units. Guess God was answering her prayers in one hell of a fucked up way.
“Well, we’re on Earth. Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. We’re the only sentient beings in our Galaxy. So this is all a surprise I would say. But, hey, your military, I’m military. Brothers in arms man, like I’m going to push my brothers away just cause their caught in a war I’ve never heard of.”
Wolffe and his comrade starred at her in shock, but it was the other that moved first, a huge grin splaying across his face. “I always wanted a sister! I’m Commet.” With that, Commet wrapped his huge arms around Trinity and hugged her. Wolffe looked like he was going to yell at the over excited soldier, but swallowed his words as Trinity laughed, lifting her own arms to hug the larger man’s neck. “Glad I can be of service Com! And call me Trin, Trinity is what ma used to yell at me when she was mad.” Commet chuckled, nuzzling his cheek to her hair, sighing contentedly. Clearly she had just made Commet’s day, and she was happy to have done so.
Wolffe wasn’t too sure of what to make of their host. She was competent, that was obvious. Her temper could match his own, but she seemed to be able to flip it on and off like a light switch. But there was something about her that set him at ease with her presence. Maybe it was the way her mismatched eye twinkled with mirth, or maybe it was the slathering of scar tissue that dotted her exposed body, but there was something about this woman that made him okay with his unit getting close to her.
They had moved from the ‘Pre-Op’ as she had called it, to what he could assume was a mess hall of some sort. It was warmer than any he had ever been in. The walls were brick, a huge, real fireplace roared against one wall as four long, huge tables took up the expansive room. Wolffe was glad to see most of his unit and Rex’s were seated, armor resting in neat piles on the floor, sipping from mugs and talking.
That was a good sign.
If they were talking and out of uniform, they were comfortable with their surroundings. Which meant it was safe. But the moment Commet stepped in with Trinity under his arm, all eyes fell on them and silence reigned.
Commet grinned and said loud enough for all to hear, “Easy bruthers! We gained a sistah today!”
Shock was short lived before cheers went up along with raised mugs and words of greeting. Clearly she had made an impression in the short time they had met her. But, even Wolffe could admit this, it didn’t take her impressing them with war stories to be accepted. She stepped up, offered help to complete strangers, even assisting in surgery to save a brothers life.
She was a sister to all of them.
Trinity moved from Commet’s side, towards the others, moving through, pausing here and there, checking bandages and asking if they needed anything. All the brothers were all smiles and nods, some even trying to flirt with her, but she simply laughed and patted their shoulders saying ‘Sorry brother, you’re not my type.” Wolffe hid a smirk at their disappointed faces, but all kidding stopped as Obi-Wan stepped forward, motioning for Trinity to sit with him, way from the others, heads bent together as they spoke in hushed tones.
Charger and Mixer sat together with Boost, Commet and Sinker from the Wolf Pack, watching their newest sister talk to the Jedi. Commet fidgeted, eyes locked on the woman’s face. It lacked any expression while Obi-Wan talked, but her eyes widened slightly before they glanced over at the clones watching her. She flashed them a smile that set them all at ease. She seemed to be able to do that easily, putting them at ease with the simplest touches or smiles, or the simple fact that they knew she was there, and that she was going to take care of them.
Charger sighed, glaring into his mug of what had been deemed tea. He remembered when the woman had gently but firmly pushed the mug into his hands.
He had been hauled into the compound as they called it, seated on a plush bench by two men, both kind eyed, telling him that he wasn’t going to be harmed and a medic would be with him soon. He didn’t remember much, but he did remember that they were being transported to Christopolis, but something had gone wrong with the hyper drive, after that, he wasn’t too sure.
He awoke to lying on his back, eyes blinking up at a dark, star dotted sky, with a man hanging over him. Immediately, Charger tried to get away, but firm hands held him down and a gentle voice met his ringing ears.
“Easy brother. You got one bitch of a head wound, possibly a concussion. You’re safe. And in good hands.”
He had settled then, still suspicious, but it was the orders of a woman that caught his attention. Turning his head just so to catch an eyeful of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
She stood tall, sharp angular face marred by a thick scar bisecting her face, cutting from her hairline, over the delicate bridge of her nose to vear off to cut through her lush lips. She glared, brilliant silver eyes snapping with fire even in the night’s darkness. She stood tall, growling and shouting orders, blood covering her hands. He watched as she pointed at Fives, lying far too still, bandages wrapping his chest.
“Max, get this guy next. Heavy chest wound, check for shrapnel and internal bleeding.”
Max, or he assumed it was, raced forwards, taking the fallen brother carefully.
From there he had been moved into the Post Op as it was called, being treated kindly by other men. IT was strange, so far he hadn’t seen another female other than the woman with silver eyes. But when she raced past him in the hall, her short red hair flying in the wind, he felt a wave of calm wash over him as her presence. It was strange, but it seemed that he was comfortable with her presence. IT was strange, but he found he liked the idea of having this female as a brother.
Obi-Wan sat with Trinity, smiling after the announcement. A sister, that’s what the clone troopers had called her. “You should feel honored. Not many outside their ranks earn such a title.” The woman’s silver eyes sparkled with mirth as her lips tugged into a smile.
“I understand that. And I am happy that they are so comfortable with my presence, it will make things easier on them while you all stay here. It looks to me that you will be here a while.”
She sighed, lifting one hand to run through her unruly, short, vibrant red locks before those silver eyes met his own once more. “I spoke to Wolffe and Commet. They told me a little, but not enough to truly answer my questions. How did you end up landing here on Earth?” Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Our ship’s hyper drive, a drive that enables us to travel over great distances in space in shorter time, malfunctioned, sending us far off course. The engines blew and we crashed here. I am grateful for your assistance. I believe you saved the lives of countless men this night.”
Trinity shifted, nodding looking humble at the praise, if a woman with a scarred body could look humble. “I understand, but I would never turn away from anyone wounded. Friend, foe or otherwise. But, enough talk. It’s high time I showed you all to bed. The best medicine I have found is sleep.” Obi-Wan smiled, watching as the woman stood, and moved.
She paused here and there, checking on the troopers and smiling before taking four with her and disappearing with them down hallways to only return and repeat the action till the last of them were moving towards their shared rooms. Obi-Wan felt the force in her was huge, but she didn’t tap into it, she exuded it, sending gentle fingers to all around her, calming them, comforting them, making them happy with her presence. He would need to talk to the counsel as soon as possible. But first, he and Wolffe had been given their own room to share.
“Breakfast is at 0800 hours, sharp. The young pups will be home just after that, so try not to look too menacing, for your own sake. They are very, curious.”
Wolffe grumbled but nodded while Obi-Wan couldn’t prevent a smile from tugging at his lips. He missed younglings, their constant energy, their smiles, and especially their laughter. Hearing a youngling laugh always helped his heart lift a little, reminding the Jedi that even in a world of darkness there was something filled with light at the same time. The Jedi Master went to bed that night, his heart a little lighter than it had been for a long, long time.
Meanwhile, Commet had managed to get Trinity into his assigned room with Sinker, Tracer and Boost. The whole of the Wolf Pack minus one ever grouchy leader, liked the woman. Trinity now sat on Boost’s bed, fingers dancing over the painted armor as it was fitted onto her. It was huge, clearly made for a much taller frame, but the general idea was that she should know what pieces went where incase she needed to strip a soldier down if one got wounded again instead of cutting through the straps as she and her men had done in the feild.
“So, the chest plates are pretty difficult, why the hell do you need so many straps?”
Trinity growled as she tugged and yanked, trying and failing, much to the chagrin of all in the room, to remove the pieces from her form. She had called it practice, but so far she had managed to get the leg and arm braces off, having refused to put the cod piece on at all.
“It’s easy! Well, I guess not for you, we go through the motions of wearing it day in and day out, we get it on and off in our sleep!”
Sinker’s comment earned him a head slap from Tracer who climbed off his own bed to assist the floundering female. She watched as his deft fingers flipped latches and tugged bands, releasing the plates to fall off one shoulder. Trinity smiled up at the trooper as his big hands helped ease the surprisingly heavy chest armor off her shoulders. The members of the Wolf Pack couldn’t place why they felt so comfortable around the woman, but none of them were going to complain. Commet wasn’t the most trusting of brothers, so when he had introduced Trin as a sister, the Pack knew she was something special.
Trin grunted as the weight was lifted off her form, making her twist and turn to get the kinks out of her back. “Well brothers, I suggest you all catch some shut eye. Tomorrow the young ones are coming back from a camping trip and will be very eager to meet all of you. You have been warned.” And with that, she left, leaving the members of the Wolf Pack almost, worried?
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