Hoplite immediately put his helmet back on and darted toward the medical tent as soon as he heard Michael’s screams, his voice mostly inaudible from this distance. Lance took note of the fact that he actually left the burlap sack of gear he’d collected from the pod. Hoplite had been guarding it tightly, keeping it alongside him and away from the curious fiendwallers who had wanted to see the ‘fire sticks’ for themselves.

Lance herself shot up from the ground, unsure of how to proceed now that she was alone with the bag. She had some interest in Michael herself, after all, he was a human from another world like Hoplite himself. Yet if she left this bag here to follow after Hoplite, who knew what would happen to it? She remained standing where she was, looking down at the half eaten lunch they had been sharing as well as the sack of munitions sitting in the grass, the top tied shut.

The hot sun was brutal today, but Hoplite didn’t want to find anywhere shady to eat, which meant not leaving sight of the medical tent. It had two flaps, with one facing the most commonly used paths in the camp with trampled grass and the other facing in her direction. This side of the rows of tents was an empty field of grass, the only other thing besides her being the sack of guns and food on a blanket next to her.

He must have trusted her a little bit at least to leave it in her presence… A nice thought, maybe they could become proper friends one day. She owed him a lot after all, but that wasn’t the only reason she wanted to befriend him. The man simply needed a friend, a real friend. Lance was certain that he probably never had a real one in his life.

She’d like to change that if she could. Lance was pretty sure that she was a fun enough person to be around, it shouldn’t be too hard to make Hoplite open up a bit more. Lance blinked and saw that Hoplite was already at the mouth of the tent, his speed still impressed her to the point of shock sometimes. After all, how could someone move so fast in armor that bulky?

The tent was only a hundred paces away and he disappeared inside of it shouting something in a deep growl. Likely he was trying to see what they were doing to Michael, those screams were concerning she would admit. Lance was sure that the people in the tent weren’t likely to be conducting malpractice, but Hoplite was absolutely paranoid about the marine’s wellbeing. It had taken significant effort to get him to come out of the tent to simply eat with her.

He had asked why she didn’t just want to eat in the tent. Lance had stared in bafflement at the man, eat in the infirmary? Where surgeons were operating on open wounds and the smell of festering wounds wafted freely about? It would taint the taste of the meal. After a few seconds, the yelling ceased, both Hoplite’s ordering shouts and Michael’s horrified screams. Had he managed to calm the marine down with his presence?

A familiar sight likely would help calm him down, after all-

Hoplite emerged from the tent then, carrying Michael in his arms like a baby as the marine wept, seeming to stretch out his hands for the sun. Lance stared wide-eyed in horror as she saw that the emaciated fellow was naked! The poor man was nothing but skin and bones, almost every single one pulled taught against his skin. Michael’s cheeks were deeply sunken beneath that unkempt black beard, yet they were still fuller than they had been the day before.

Twindil’s doing no doubt. The half-elf had claimed to use the power of Afina to increase the nutritional density of the mush fed to him while unconscious. The paladin had enchanted enough for him to make a full recovery, or at least that was what she had told Lance and Hoplite. It would take around three days of eating the food she had enchanted for him before he would be able to walk again is what she had said.

Hoplite had asked her how she could make food more nutritional and apparently got frustrated when Twindil simply said ‘Afina’s magic’. What else had he expected? Magic was simply magic. No matter, right now she needed to figure out what was going on.

She put her fists on her hips and shouted “What are you doing!?”

The man was in no condition to be man-handled, much less brought out into the open wearing no clothing! Michael however, didn’t seem as if he were in any discomfort, stretching out skinny fingers for the sun while thanking Hoplite between sobs. Hoplite didn’t reply, merely standing there in the light while doctors in aprons that may have once been white emerged from the tent, complaining after him.

“He needs bed rest you oaf!” An older human shouted “Look at him! Put down my patient at once!”

“Negative. He needs light.” Hoplite replied.

“He is not a plant!” The older human yelled back “Now if you please, bring him back inside!”

“Shut up nerd!” Michael cried angrily.

The doctor sputtered “H-how dare you, I’m trying to help you young man! You need to be in that bed!”

Michael shook his head quickly, seeming to cling onto Hoplite even tighter than before. People were beginning to come out from between the rows of tents, likely to see what the commotion was all about. Before Lance could get too close, they were packing around Hoplite; leaving a good deal of space between them and Hoplite. She slowly began inching her way through the crowd, whispering apologies as she accidently bumped into several people on the way. The people in the crowd whispered and pointed at Hoplite, saying things like ‘The hero of the Fiendwall’ in awed tones or ‘Why does the hero want to kidnap the sick?’

If Hoplite cared about his new title of ‘Hero of the Wall’ he did not show it, and he didn’t react to the growing crowd either. Michael, after a moment of sobbing, took a deep breath, and looked to the doctor.

“You get a light goin’ in there, a real bright one, and I’ll go back inside.” Michael said in a shaky tone “It’s too dark in there alright?”

The doctor stared at the man for another few seconds before sighing and nodding his head in acquiescence, waving his hand at a nearby assistant and ordering her to bring a few torches. MIchael breathed a sigh of relief but continued to stare at the doctor, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why,” Michael sniffed, wiping tears from his eyes “Would you use a torch? You mean like a flashlight right?”

The doctor stared back at Michael, visibly perplexed.

“I am not sure as to… what that is.” The doctor replied.

Now Michael stared, all previous terror seemingly dissapating from his now confused expression.

“Y’all out of batteries or something?” He asked “Or are ya thinkin’ glowglobes? Oh hey wait a second… uh, sir my junk is showing can we get-”

“I’ll brief you on the current situation, marine.” Hoplite said, cutting him off “What is your rank?”

Michael coughed, and sniffed again “Private sir. I serve the Octopus and Lord Jyn loyally.” He finished in a formal tone.

“Hoplite thirty-seven, I serve the Octopus and Lord Jyn loyally.” Hoplite replied in just as formal a tone.

“Thirty-seven!?” Michael shouted in awe “No friggin’ way! I knew we had a Hoplite aboard but I didn’t know that it was you!”

Lord Jyn? The Octopus? So was this Lord Jyn the ruler of Hoplite’s homeland? He must be, what kind of man was he like? Or was it a woman? No, humans called high ranking women ‘Lady’, and they had both said lord. The onlookers exchanged confused frowns as they asked about both the Octopus and this Lord Jyn. Lance hadn’t heard of Lord Jyn before this encounter either of course, but she knew that was because he was an outworlder ruler. No one here would know who this Lord Jyn was, except for Hoplite and Michael.

She knew the octopus was the symbol for this ‘Terna’, based on the blood red insignia she'd seen on both Hoplite’s star and Michael’s. Sorry, ‘pods’ or ‘shuttles’. It wasn’t too long before the assistant returned with the requested torches, lighting two of them and handing one to the doctor, who took it with an annoyed expression. They all re-entered the tent then, leaving Lance and the gathered crowd behind.

Was Hoplite particularly famous where he was from to elicit that reaction from Michael? And what was this… thirty-seven deal? Was he the thirty seventh Hoplite? She remembered back when they had first met, he hadn’t said ‘My name is Hoplite’ he had said… ‘I am a Hoplite.’ Was that not his real name? Were there more men like him running around somewhere? She was almost to the edge of the crowd when a man suddenly spoke out in an angry tone, breaking her train of thought.

“That’s the one. That starfallen… he’s the one what broke the wall.”

She turned her attention on him. He was a tall fellow, as were most of the people who lived in the Fiendwall. A curled brown moustache topped his lip, the color matching his simple clothing. He looked no different than any human townsman she had seen before save that moustache, which was popular among the fiendwaller men.

“You don’t know if he’s a starfallen.” A woman in a long brown skirt chided, slapping his arm “He’s probably just some poor fellow that got trapped in the rubble.”

The man sneered “Naw, he do be the starfallen what broke the wall. Me brother’s workin’ the other side of the breach, he saw the hero pull him out of the star.”

Many other whispers began, discussing the possible origin of Michael and what should be done about him.

The previous man spoke again “I’ll hang that fellow. Me sister and nephew were in that section before the star collided.”

“Me daughter had been there as well.” An older gentleman said with a glare at the tent “I don’t know why they wanted to crash into our wall, but he do be doomed for it, mark me!”

“We do not know if he did it on purpose!” A man argued “Who can control where a star do land?”

“It no matter.” A middle-aged woman snarled “He be dead for killing me son!”

Lance shrunk back until she was once again behind the crowd, circling around it to reach the front of the tent. Hoplite had to know that there was likely going to be trouble here soon… She just wished she could tell him how soon.

She did not remember to grab the bag from where it had been sitting.