Log:Defiance Guild: Bad Bacta
The short story: The bad boys of Defiance make a gruesome discovery and decide to clean up the mess, with their usual degree of professionalism and competency.
The long story:
Rundown Medical Clinic - Mos Eisley Spaceport, Tatooine
This isn't much of a place and its not in very good shape. There's garbage and debris littering the floor of the main rooms. The first room is what was obvious an old waiting area with the remains of a receptionist desk and many old broken and toppled chairs lining the walls. The floors are hard to walk across as the debris is intense.
The backrooms are smaller and in the same condition with old and broken medical equipment. There's an old bacta tank with a light still on, a dead body is floating inside the tank, marginally well preserved by the bacta, but still clearly a corpse of a female twi'lek. Another dead body lies on the ground in front of the bacta tank, a male twi'lek skeleton wearing battle armor that is scorched on the chest.
See what had happened was...
Lets take time to consider how this happened. People were bloody, injured, half dead, irritated, possibly drunk or high, hungry...etc. Naelyn, changed out of his black and put back on his browns and beiges, mostly because there was too much blood on his 'combat' blacks. On a strange planet, he is not going to openly go door to door asking for things because his family is hurt, no...he has been asking around to make the contact he needs. There is a crate of blue milk he has scored from a lonely widow. There is a crate of something dried and possibly protein based, scored from four people in a polyamorous square. Then he finally needs to know if there is a medical center he can visit to get more bandages and antiseptic. That is when he sends a message to Hex that says 'Going to the clinic for supplies, may need help carrying things'.
And now...he is here with an illumination orb, some glowy white ball thing he holds up as he forces himself into the room, stepping on something that is vaguely roden skeleton shaped and he takes a deep breath continuing on his way. His medpack shouldered and an extra satchel with him. This could never go wrong.
Summoning Hex is like summoning demons, either it doesn't work at all or it does and you probably wish it hadn't. But for better or worse, he does appear at the clinic because Naelyn needs help carrying things. He pauses outside the door, lekku twitching uncertainly as to whether this could be the right location... but there's only one clinic. He pulls a flask out of one pocket, drinks, and drops it back into said pocket, fortifying for either the nightmare disaster hospital, or actually talking to Naelyn, or both, and then steps inside. ".....Hello? Nae?"
Naelyn spins around quickly, things crunching under his feet as he takes a few steps back into the front room to regard Hex quietly for a moment. "There you are..." He is whispering, no real reason, but it feels right as he takes a deep breath and gestures for Hex to come closer. He looks him over thoughtfully, taking a deep breath. "How much trouble are younin with she who holds your heart?"
Hex spends a moment regarding the surroundings warily, and then a moment regarding Naelyn warily. He looks down to try to see what he just stepped on that make an unpleasantly wet sound, then thinks better of trying to find answers for things that may be better left a mystery. "I don't know," Hex answers. "I haven't talked to her yet. She locked herself in the bedroom and I didn't try to open it."
Naelyn shakes his head and just cautions. "Don't look down." Then he heads back towards the backrooms, holding the orb up as he hmms softly. "You should purchase her some new pants, nice ones." He suggests before he suddenly stops, freezing up when the glow of the bacta tank lights up the space and his eyes go wide as he tries to calmly take a step backwards, tripping over something, and sprawling out with graceful dramatics, looking down to see what he tripped over, oh yes. Another dead body. He swears fluently in Ryl and scrambles backwards.
"I'm not buying her anything," Hex replies, though the troubled nature of his relationship with the spouse he just shot, and her wardrobe, is not elaborated on when they move forward and encounter the horror show that is the bacta tank. Hex has been through some shit, up to and including the war horrors of the First Order, but there is something about... this... this sad scene in a forgotten, desperate hospital... that just strikes on a different level. He backs up sharply as well, unable to look away, until he too bumps into the rotting countryman on the floor and has to look down to take that in. "Oh... oh, goddess.... My... that.... gods, the /smell/... Ryma'at....!"
Naelyn can forget about his part time marriage counseling because he is trying to get to his feet now, slipping a couple of times before pulling himself up and exhaling shakily as he edges closer to Hex and takes a deep breath and then another deep breath, moving a hand to tug his hood around to cover his mouth. "How...what....why is is still here, how can this just be still here?!"
Hex is not entirely sober, but he's definitely not drunk enough for this horror show. He takes a step forward as though he's going to make an attempt at approaching the bacta tank, but it's just too horrible, the way her lekku are slowly rotting into the fluid, not as bad as the way the man's are not making squishy noodle puddles melting into the floor, but... it's bad... and he's frozen, staring at the bodies, particularly the woman in the glowing tank. "I don't know. I don't know," he replies, breathing shallowly. "I don't know. Gods, Naelyn, what a crotting ugly way to go, I just... she died in there! She DIED in there!"
Naelyn just shakily raises the glowing orb he was carrying again to illuminate the corpse before looking back to Hex, gasping softly and shaking his head. "I don't want to go in the bacta again..." He offers in a soft little voice, he is not clinging, okay. He is bracing himself. That is all.
Hex and Naelyn were in here looking for supplies, but rather than finding a doctor or any matter of normal, civilized-world medical assistance, they found a couple of uniquely horrifying corpses in the shell of what can only generously be called a clinic. It's spooky. Dead people. In the bacta. On the floor. DEAD PEOPLE. "Me neither," Hex is replying to Naelyn, lekku coiling around his shoulders like the tentacles of an anemone trying to protect itself. "....Should I try to get her out of there?"
Naelyn hmms softly and releases the arm slowly to peer curiously at the bacta tank and then the controls for it. "We should um, get the bodies out? Maybe?" He cannot stop looking at the body in the bacta though, just staring and swallowing from time to time. When he remembers words, they can only come in Ryl. "But you would have to touch the bacta to get her out...."
"I have never wanted to do anything less in my entire life," Hex replies, also in Ryl, which is just the more comfortable linguistic choice for both of them to retreat to at the home. "But we shouldn't leave her there. We can't just leave her there." He hesitates, then shrugs out of his duster. "Hold this," Hex asks, then, "Wait." He reaches into one of the pockets, pulls out the flask, and takes a long drink. Back it goes in the pocket. Duster handed to Naelyn. "Don't judge me right now, I need that or this is not gonna happen," he warns, then slowly begins making his way over toward the bacta tank, climbing up a ladder attached to the side of it, and after a moment of assessment, opens up the top of the tank. Bacta has a sickly smell anyway, but it's made exponentially worse by the decay happening within, and the stench floods the ruined clinic instantly.
Naelyn accepts the duster from Hex, folding it over his arm and there is no judgement in his eyes, he just snakes a hand into that pocket to retrieve that flask and he takes a sip himself, eyes wide in the awkard lighting. When that tank opens however..it takes everything in him not to nope the hell out, he just trembles slightly and slips then flask away, covering his mouth and nose again with his hood.
"Get a tarp. Or something. Get a tarp," Hex chokes out directions to Naelyn, turning green(er?) at the sweet, rotting, death-smell miasma roiling out of the bacta tank. The healing fluid has preserved the twi'lek woman's body...somewhat... but not enough. She looks marginally better than her dead companion decomposing on the floor in the desert heat, bloating and rotting within the confines of his armor, but it's not good. "Oh, gods," Hex breathes, and then reaches INTO the horrifying death tank to grab hold of the Twi'lek woman's arm in an effort to remove her body from the tank.
He gives it a little tug.
The arm comes off, with a wet pop, click, tear sound, and then Hex is holding a squishy Twi'lek arm while the rest of the body bobs up and down and spills some decomposing body fluid into the tank. "NO???!!!" Hex gasps, and then goes white as a sheet in the eerie light from the glowing bacta tank. "I'm just -- gonna --" He leans over and throws up.
Stealth and caution being virtues when entering an abandoned hovel full with the reek of old death, it is perhaps predictable that from the area of the former waiting room comes the subtle and sneaky shout, "Grom is here!" The sounds of heavy bootsteps crunching over heavy debris follow the announcement.
Naelyn turns to scurry out, pausing to find a hook (it is a broken shelf) to hang the duster from referently (with silent disdain for its fery existence)...to go find a tarp, he returns with a worn out and mostly dark brown sheet and a skeptical expression right when he realizes that Hex is holding and arm and things are bobbing and splashing and there is vomit and he is backing up. "Hex! Put down! Drop it! What the krif-" Grom arrives and Naelyn is so surprised that he freaking backflips hugging that filthy sheet to his chest, dropping it suddenly and just holding his arms out. "We...we are in here Master Highness Grom." In a soft voice not unlike a sultry voiced kitten that's been kicked and left in the rain.
"Bring the sheet. BRING THE SHEET," Hex wheezes, wiping his mouth by using the top of his sleeve, near his shoulder, since both hands are covered in bacta or dead body or both. "Swear to goddess I'll take her out one piece at a time if I have to." The clinic here is ruined, and it is currently choked with the scent of death, from one Twi'lek decomposing on the floor and a second corpse that Hex is trying to fish out of the bacta tank. It is horrible. The corpse in the tank lost her arm when Hex gave it a tug, and pale-faced, he's holding on to said arm. "GROM. Take this. Put it on the sheet that Naelyn has. We're taking these people out of here, ok ka." Realizing he's dealing with pragmatists, he adds, "Otherwise nobody can use the bacta."
Grom grunts one, sniffing the rot-heavy air one he peeks into the back room. "Ah," he rumbles, as the big Houk accepts the squishy arm. "Twi'lek pudding arm. Sheet will fall apart under weight," he guesses, before his expression brightens. "Grom has idea! Throw all bits of dead head tails into tank! Grom will carry tank out and pour it into grave!"
Naelyn has seen lots of dead people, but it is mostly the smell and the sounds and the visual textures that are rattling his calm. "Okay, but, it is stained." (Read: Years old blood and piss has permanently discolored the sheet) As if the fact that the sheet is dirty matters here. He is short, so he has to look way up to Grom when he comes closer, then he looks to Hex, and then looks back to Grom and blinks before looking back to Hex. "That actually..." What is even happening right now. "Can...Master Highness Grom carry the whole tank or would it fall apart..." Because lets be honest, so far its the best idea they have.
Sajin comes in then, looking around with a bit of confusion. "What the hell happened in here?" His hands go to his hips and he shakes his head. "This is just not sanitarty." Shaking his head he moves over to assist.
Hex stares openly at Grom for a long moment, then looks at Grom. At the tank. Grom. Tank. Grom. "Yeah. Uh. Yeah, okay," the one still-living Twi'lek in this room agrees. "Give me the arm and the other body. We're going to put them both in here and then we're going to bury them both in the desert, ok ka. Normally you shouldn't bury Twi'leks, you should burn them, but... like... it's all.... way too moist?" He looks like he might throw up again. "Please burn me if I die. Okay. Sajin. Hello. Glad you're here. Help Grom pick up that body on the floor, but watch out, he's... like.... he's leaking."
"I HATE THIS PLANET," a voice yells from the doorway, a drunken, slurred voice as the figure of Tarion Tavers, rogue bounty hunter, comes stumbling in from the beating sun outdoors. "I hate. THIS PLANET." He's still covered in sand; every part of him is covered in sandy dirt, he's sought no medical attention for his fall yesterday, he's walking with a limp, he's got a purse filled with bombs, and a large pitcher of something that smells sweet and boozy at the same time. "I gotta /destroy it/," he mutters to himself, not yet registering the others.
Grom hands the squishy detached arm back to Hex obediently. He peers at the tank with narrowed yellow eyes. "Tube looks tough. Hasn't broken yet. Should be good!" he decides, notably not having looked at any connecting cables, wires, or bolts holding the tank in place. "Little King," and "Trash knight," are greeted in turn upon arrival.
"Leaking? Leaking!" Sajin shakes his head. There's no having this. He moves over to a rack and finds a shaker of powerder... "Here this should help with the leaking." He starts to shakes the white powder all over the body. An acrid smell starts to fumigate into the room. It might bother the eyes and noses of some. What ever it was Sajin put all over the body was not regulation cleaning supplies. "Oh man... that's some strong stuff..."
Hex is not entirely sober, but when he spots Tarion, arriving drunk, he looks positively jealous. He just threw up a lot of perfectly good alcohol all over the floor behind the bacta tank, and this seems like it'd be easier to cope with while shitfaced. "I am never gonna get rid of this smell," he despairs, accepting the dead woman's arm and placing it back into the tank. He's up on a ladder attachment that allows him to open the top of the tube and reach into it, which is how he pulled the arm off the female corpse. "Okay. Okay. Get me the man on the floor, ka... UGH, SAJIN, you just made the dead smell worse. How the hell did you even do that? RYMA'AT. I want to die. But not like this. I want to die in a fire. Tarion, help them get me that corpse, I'll pay you."
"Grom will save his strength for carrying big tube," the Houk decides, blinking his eyes unevenly when the powder begins to fill the air. A snort of irritation. "Grom's new armor cannot arrive soon enough." Oh yeah, his armor still has multiple blaster burns.
Naelyn idly shifts the sheet over with his foot, he will probably burn these boots. "No...it is not. Everyone should tie something ofer their mouths and noses." He is tugging from his robes his veil free, securing it across his nose and mouth, as Hex gives the game plan. "We will need to disguise the tank, and make sure we get it back in reasonably good condition..." He glances over towards Tarion when he arrives and he shakes his head slowly. "Not /now/ you little female bantha. This is not about you. This is about illegally smuggling decaying Twi'leks into the desert..." He looks between Tarion and Grom, taking in how hurt they are, a look to Sajin as well before he is moving to the control panel for the tank, handling the side of trying to unpower and disconnect tubes and wires and such, having to pause to adjust to another whiff of dead body and bacta. Then that other smell...and he stares for a moment...then a little longer..."Is...is that an acid based cleaner? Nononono, get off, get it off, it will make the soup!"
"NO!" Tarion immediately refutes, busy rooting in his bag for an appropriate bomb to begin destroying the entire planet, but the 'pay you' echoes in his brain, halting him in his tracks, hand stopping its rooting action. 'pay you pay you pay you ou ou ou oo ooo....'. "...alright fine what're we, krif, Pok, it smells bad in here, sht, what the... oh hell." The bounty hunter comes ambling in, alternately mincing around gross-looking medical gear and stepping over puddles of questionable goo. With surprising ease and precision the drunken man locates a tall rubber boot, likely a quarantine suit piece, and after dumping half the box of gloves onto the floor, snaps a pair on to begin shoveling various bodily waste into the boot like a macabre picnic basket. "We killed this one too? Family drama, you- HEX, your own cousin, man, I- Naelyn is gonna be pi- oh he's right there, hey. Where's- when we're done I'm blowing this place up still."
Sajin just starts gagging and coughing, "Awe Drek... yeah... that wasn't what I thought it was." He's bent over a bit, hands on his kness. He manages to hawk a luggie big enough to clear out his stinging throat and nostrils, but that nose is still running a heavy flow of buggers and snot along with red, watery, and irritated eyes. "Good Job Tarion." He gives the man a thumbs up before putting on a pair of those gloves /over/ his armored ones and starts to drag the body, becacuse he's still a bit weak from being shot, towards the exit. It trails goo and guts, the dragging sound more wet than dry. Especially when he knocks himself and it into a container, chair, or table. "Ooops."
"No, no, stinking dead head tails goes into tank with Twi'lek pudding," Grom directs helpfully, as he tromps and stomps over to begin looking for the best handholds by which to lift the entire monstrosity of a medical tank.
"NO, Sajin! No! Into the tank! The TANK!" Hex flails as Sajin starts to drag the rapidly soupifying male Twi'lek toward the door. "We're just shoving them both in the tank and then we're pouring out the tank in the desert!" Because that's just a really good plan, it just is. He climbs down from his perch to take the body's feet, and since Sajin has the other end, together they can drag it back towards the bacta tank. Once there, Hex pants, "I got it, I got it from here," in the breathy tones of someone trying not to breathe. He then hoists the body up, and with a sickening wet, ruptured wheeze sound, it proceeds to spill black goop out of its gaping mouth down his back. Hex looks horrified, but NONETHELESS, HE PERSISTS, and drags the corpse up the ladder, where he then tries to dump it into the tank. Unfortunately for everyone, Hex doesn't understand volumetric physics, so when the body goes in, waves and waves of polluted bacta pour out, threatening everyone's shoes. The bacta fluid within the tank is now foggy with decomposition fluids disturbed and leaking into it. Hex is trying to shove the bodies down, and largely failing. "Sajin! Tarion! Close the top of the tank! Close it!"
Naelyn sees all his life choices flash before his eyes between Tarion scooping up pieces in a boot, and Sajin dragging the body around and Grom and Hex doing their point, its all a slow motion horror show and the pretty little sephi hybrid tugs a few more wires free and just stares as he rises up in time to see the eminent splashing and then he skittere back so fast he hits an opposite wall to avoid getting splashed and he turns his face away from the horror, back of his hand rising to his forehead as sniffles. "Put the sheet over, I cannot look..."
None of this bothers Tarion. Not the corpse, not the body parts, not the tainted bacta, not the TAINTED LOVE, ba ba ba, TAINTED LOVE. The bounty hunter instead calmly reaches up to dump his boot o' biowaste into the top of the tank and in the process splashes more stuff out onto the floor. "What do we need that for?" he questions of the sheet/disguise.
"Doh, sorry boss..." Sajin says as he's corrected and moves the body back towards the tank, helping Grom and Hex to get the thing in along with Tarion. In that moment, Bukets rolls in extending his torch and ignighting it. "No Buckets, we don't need that." The droid moves over to the sheet and lights it anyways, beeping (to those who understand binary) about it being highly toxic. "BUCKETS NOOOOO!"
Grom grunts and snorts as he peers around for something resembling a lid to this big tube of goo and death. "This world has very much sand." He peers at Hex. "Does Glorious puke noodles have a favorite part of sand for burying of things?"
With the tank lid finally latched on the tube o' bodies, Hex finally takes a step back. He's liberally coated in corpse fluid and arguably looking a little corpse-like himself, but manages to choke through the stench, "We're good, ok ka..." And then, of course, poor helpful Buckets has lit a flame. "...Tarion, you may get your wish about destroying this place, at least part of it," Hex says philosophically, then scrambles to grab the sheet and fling it over the tank. Gobbets of something disgusting and unknown fly off. "Grom, take it and go, go go!"
Well. Atleast fire is cleansing. Naelyn can't even as he dutifully moves to retrieve Hex's duster and he holds it up and eyes Bukets thoughtfully, but today has been too grim for him to do that to Hex, so he refolds it over his arm and shakily points towards the exit. "Um..." On a planet with a water shortage, getting clean is going to be a bitch and a half, so he just sighs softly. "Hex...before we return home, we are going to have to burn the clothing that has been touched too..." Then to Grom. "Pick a good spot, not too close to the city. We will follow, then you bring the tank back, okay?"
Grom is told to go, so he goes! The Houk bends to take hold of the tank and strains with superhuman strength to lift the entire apparatus, only thinking to repeat his prior question afterward: "WHERE IS GROM GOING WITH GOO?" He is visibly unstable under the weight, swaying and careening from step to step, on course to walk the tank right into the wall above the doorway, because really: Grom barely fit in that door before carrying a bacta tank.
Drunk and reeling, Tarion somehow manages to follow the course of the tank not through any intention of his own but purely from the effects of the alcohol in his system knocking him off-course by exactly the same degrees as the weight of the thing is knocking Grom off-course. Before the Houk is able to smash it against a wall, the bounty hunter intervenes, latching onto the thing like an ant battling a dung beetle, his cybernetic arm whirring a loud, strained complaint, a noise that it is almost definitely Not Supposed to Make. "Easy there, big boy, let's get this thing out through the hole that's already /in/ the wall, and then we'll- KASIA. She got shot, she can put her ass down in it. I'll get a bonus." This is the best plan.
Sajin rushes over about the same time Taion goes to help Grom as well. "Yeah... don't need any more holes in this decrepit building." He was going to have to do a lot of cleaning up around here. He manages to help steady the Houk, and the added muscle helps with carrying the tank filled with goo and body parts further out the door. Buckets onthe other hand caught a look at Naelyn and is rolling overto him, whiiring and beeping, chatting the helf Sepphi up. Ayyyee Maaami, how you doin'? HE produces a dying bouqe of Naboo flowers to him. How appropriate.
The good news about any town on Tatooine is that the desert is never very far away. It's a collective effort resting heavily on Sajin and Tarion, but the bad boys of Defiance (there are no good boys of Defiance) are able to struggle their sheet-enshrouded cargo out of the clinic and down a street out of town, until they finally reach a place where a rocky outcropping drops away into... sort of like a hole... it's a lot like a hole. It'll do. "Dump it!" Hex orders, followed by "WAIT" and then a fumbling with the latch. "Okay WAIT, dump it on THREE or you're gonna cover me with corpse bacta juice, you understand? On THREE. One... two..."
Naelyn has a new boyfriend and worked the dead naboo flowers into his bun, under his hair covering and he has been following quietly and looking around from time to time. By the time they arrive, however, he is just holding Hex's duster and has a box of hospital powder stuff with him as welll.
"Open lid, OPEN LID," Grom bellows when talk of dumping their pestilent cargo begins. Houk, being reptiles, do not sweat, so the only dripping comes from his recent blaster wounds. Still, he will be ready to lie and soak up sun for an hour, soon. Overstrained muscles are near giving out. "COUNT FASTER," he encourages/implores.
"What lid?!" Tarion demands, hanging gamely onto his side of the tank, not daring to remove his grip lest the tank crush his toes. Hex, who cares. "WHAT LID, just open it!" The level of concern for getting bacta on Hex is off the chart here, off the bottom, not the top. "I'M DUMPING!"
Sajin huffs and puffs as they stand there trying to get the top off, "Come on... it's just the tip! Just get it off! Kweee, FFFFFFFFF, Urrrrgggg." Those muscle are getting a workout today. "Ohhhh. Ohhhh, we're dumping! We're dumping together!" And so they dumped... all over the place. Oh god it's going to get everwhere.
Buckets is wheeling around with Nealyn, howing off his new prize, mechanical arm humerously wrapped across the Sephi's lower back assuming the astromech is tall enough.
"...THREE," Hex counts down, but the timing is slightly off because Tarion is already tipping, and the thing was heavy, and was it ever going to be possible to bust open the latch and get out of the way at the same time? No. No it was not. So the latch snaps off, and the tank is already tipping, and Hex is awash in a ghastly flood of body-part soup, Twi'lek pudding, decompositional fluid, stale bacta, and liquifying insect life native to Tatooine. He makes a wet, strangled sound as he's caught in the deluge, ducking out of it as soon as he can. It's not fast enough, and as the sad piles of bones, armor, and jellifying lekku fall int the crevasse they've chosen, Hex sputters and gags. He then proceeds to start shouting, echoing in the canyons, "KRIFF THIS, AND THAT, AND THAT, KRIFF THAT, KRIFF THIS IN PARTICULAR," while peeling out of his clothing and flinging it over the edge after the corpses. What remains is Hex, smelling terrible, standing at the edge of the ravine, wearing nothing except for his shorts and unfastened boots, with a cigarette and a flask. He's pissed as hell but seems determined to say A Few Words. "Dearly coworkered, we gather here today... because.... sht, I don't know why we did this." He looks at the others. "Why the hell did we do this?"
Grom sets his portion of the mercifully empty bacta tube aside, as upright as possible, and rolls onto his back with a rattling groan. His left eye blinks twice, followed by a blink of his right. When Hex asks that last, he is answered with a weary grunt. "Because its day time." He neither stirs, nor elaborates.
A hand has to move behind him from time to time to to move that mech's arm off his ass and back to his actual back, Naelyn is used to this though. He can see this going horribly. He can, because it actually /is/ going wrong. He hmms softly and just shakes his head, cringing when the pour is and Hex is getting a infected bacta bath. "I saved this." He holds up the duster helpfully. And then words are being said so he is moving to the edge of the crevasse, looking down to Buckets, then back to everyone else. He drops that box of hospital acid powder and sighs. "Who has a grenade?" He nods safely to Grom. "So beautifully said....Master Highness Grom. And because we are who we are...."
"Here, just use mine," Tarion loudly announces, handing off his purse into Naelyn's safe-keeping. "I'll- I'll kill you if you hurt it," he warns in a slurred voice and it seems the precaution is in earnest. "I'll kill all of you, I- I love this bag." Then he's already headed back to the town to plot the destruction of the entire system. "First Order. Gotta call 'em. They got the- nerf steaks."
Sajin puts his hands on his hips and surveys the deluge, "Wow... we out did our selves this time, huh..." He pats both Grom and Hex on the shoulders before turning to head back into Town as well. "Gota go... wash the stench off my armor now... come along Buckets..." The droid wines and gives his love a parting bleep and bloopsbefore he rolls along, complaing all the while deftly to Sajin who can't understand an actual word the droid is saying.
"Give it. Give it here," Hex says of the grenades. One is plucked up out of Tarion's dubious Hand Bag, switched on, and then lobbed down into the crevasse with a following, BOOOM, and a small fire burning down down down far below. Hex watches the flames while smoking disconsolately for a few seconds, then throws the cigarette down after it and moves to help Grom with the now empty tank. "Alright. Back. Dropping this off. Good job, boys, we did a good thing and we did it badly, and that's...." The praise is going slightly off kilter, there, but he just rolls with it. "That's the Defiance way." And then, mostly naked, boots floppin', he starts hauling back to town.