There was nothing left. I had the Star Map and all, made it to the downed UT-AT center to rendezvous with Whiskey Squad, but then again, it was gone. Or, so had I thought. It was under me. I was standing on it. The vessel had been hit so hard it was totally disfigured, and barely recognizable. The only remains were battered fragments of the craft scattered across a plain of thick oil and debris. I assumed Spank, Moses and Pudd had the same problem finding the corpses of the vehicles, as I soon found them rummaging through the sea floor.
"Where were you all?"
"Following you, Major."
"I hadn't seen you back at the CP."
"Then we were doing something right."
Mission 8.2 in the 457th Corps.