It wasn't supposed to be this way.
He coughed again, the pain of his ribs squeezing in around his lungs making his regret the need to breathe.
At least that would stop soon enough, a dim part of his brain chose to say, drawing his attention to the jagged wounds in his legs and arms, all spilling blood at an alarming rate.
Wishing it had been a lightsaber instead of a mine wasn't an improvement, the man told his macabre mind.
Then he felt pressure, invisible hands on every torn wound.
"Stay with me, Rex," lingered as he passed out.