Rivet forces Cody to take a dose of pain meds and someone else throws him up onto the back of one of the animals for a while, and then finally he’s shoved into a wagon with the general and Bliss and one of the locals is there with them, singing something soft and soothing.
Eventually the pain recedes enough for him to start noticing sensory details again—the wagon has wheels, but rolls so smoothly that with his eyes closed he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference from a standard repulsar rig, and is made of some fine-grained wood that doesn’t snag his gloves when he tries running a hand over it. His bucket’s off, rolling loose against his left knee, his breath a steaming plume above him, just visible against the darkening evening sky, and the air is chill but not unpleasant against his exposed face. He’s shoulder-to-shoulder with someone else also wearing Phase 1 armor, which must be Bliss; he’s not going to entertain the possibility of another of his men getting injured while he’s been … unavailable.
When he manages to shove himself up enough to see something other than just sky, two more of his men are sitting with their legs hanging down over the back of the wagon—Bang-Bang and Jumbo, looks like, though the lighting makes it difficult to read their armor paint. He scuffs his good foot against the wagon bed, trying to brace himself enough to sit up properly, and they turn at the noise, Bang-Bang awkwardly crawling back to give him a hand.
“Good to see you functional again, sir.” Between the two of them they’re able to get Cody propped up in the corner without jostling Bliss too badly in the process.
“Good to be functional,” Cody says, and takes a moment to run a visual check on Bang-Bang. Tired but calm, no signs of unease at being disarmed—though given that Cody’s seen him placidly toss high explosives into droid gun embankments while dodging targeted enemy fire, that’s not the best gauge for how things are actually going. “You two my honor guard?”
“Just our turn to get a breather, sir, that’s all.” Flare beams at him from over Bang-Bang’s shoulder. “Though it’s about time for the next pair to swap in. D’you want me to go find the sergeant, sir?”
“And Sixer, if they’re both available,” Cody agrees, and Flare rolls himself out off the end of the wagon with the easy fluidity of a cadet, despite his armor.