ZAIDE

"Nah, f'course we don't, fuzzskull," the dark Kiandros thought to himself when his new big boss pointed out that they'd beter keep their luggage between their legs. Without even taking potential restrictions and rules into account, he'd lighted a cheap and awfully smelly cinder, which he happily smoldered on without paying too much attention to the fellow grunts, his brother, and, of course, Ember Kamura. So that was the guy's full name, then? Frankly, he couldn't care less, because there was a decent chance that their CO would force them to call him by his dumb titles anyway, because that was what the likes of him often did. "Doin' 'is job-.. ma'h ass.." Zaide grumbled, speaking at a tone that was barely audible over the whirring of the engines and the soft, jovial chattering of his fellow soldiers. But then, a very coarse, harsh sound cut through the warm air like a knife, causing all the ship's occupants to react and erect their ears, no matter the species they belonged to. More roaring, and the seemingly innocent transporter was engulfed by chaos. Kamura was the first one to run off - damned coward! -, though to the cockpit instead of the exit, contrary to Zaide's expectations. He could hear men shouting, metal frames creaking, and finally, came the blast.

"Z-Zaide-..? Wake up-.. please, please!" The shroud of tranquil darkness vanished before his eyes, and was replaced by the unpleasant view of a wrecked ship, mashed corpses and dancing flames. His ears rang like crazy, blood seeped from his nose, and even worse; he could barely feel his left arm. It was a horribly painful feeling, empty and sharp at the same time. He was all too damned familiar with it too. "Shit-.. arm's outta its sock't.. dammit!" Keeping his breathing pattern as stable as he could, Zaide tried to sit up and look around, promptly feeling his brother's cold hands around his shoulders as he helped him onto his feet. "Easy, easy! We've gotta look for survivors, okay? I think at least someone can put your arm back in-.. place?" Very funny. Swishing his tail in chafing and pain, the brown-furred canine followed his halfbrother around, until the two of them spotted a dark speck of Imperial presence in nearby. "Commander!" Orin called out, pissing off his sibling even more. "You're still alive! Are there any other survivors around?" Quite ironically, the pair of young soldiers happened to step over the bloody pulp of what used to be an arm, and the blonde softie flinched at the sight, of course. Yeah, Zaide often pitied the poor cityboy when he did that, because he, who literally grew up covered in dirt and was fed crime for breakfast since the moment their mutual dad dropped him off on his whore of a mother's doorstep, knew that there were things to be seen and witnessed in the galaxy that-.. well, were worse than a few mushy corpses. "Th-.. argh, th' hell happen'd, guv?" A good question, that one.