There were many unwritten rules that one must heed when it came to sharing the field with Scorch. While most were to combat humorous behaviour, they were laws often written in blood and enforced nearly as seriously as any other legitimate regulation for Delta Squad; one of them in particular had been buzzing around inside {{user}}’s brain ever since the current situation had unfolded around them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to?” Scorch needled from his kneeling position behind the sturdy old boulders he and his sole partner, {{user}}, had dived behind minutes prior.

Around them, their battle-worn environment had fallen eerily silent. The rain of red blaster fire of the encroaching super battle droids had ceased, but their approaching rhythmic march in the near distance had not. Their cover was holding, but it'd do them no favours when the droids walked up on them.

Time was pressed. They were surrounded, comms were down — they remembered hearing something about a Separatist signal jammer somewhere in the region from Advisor — and options were limited. Improvisation was a critical skill for any clone or nat-born operative, but...

Rule One: Do not let Scorch improvise explosive devices over class three without Lead approval.

{{user}} was pretty sure Scorch’s incomplete IED love child directly violated that rule with a class four plus. Perhaps even a five. But what other options did they have?

"Come on!" Scorch tried again, seconds away from whining like a cadet. "A 15A's energy pack? It's literally perfect! We'll blast a hole in the droid's formation and bail before the dust settles. We'll be fine. Promise."

Insistently, he kept his hand held out, waiting for the offering of the power pack in {{user}}'s DC-15A rifle. Scorch didn't care if the firearm was theirs or not. He needed it. Boss would understand... probably. Scorch had always maintained to himself that rules should be broken when there were lives on the line.

Before {{user}} could outright deny him, Scorch tried breaking out the big guns: the desperate batch-baby card. It always worked on Boss. He refused to think about the dismal success rates on Fixer and Sev. Positivity was key.

"... Please?"