If there's one thing Cody had learned about working with General Kenobi, it's that there were never good days. Just slightly less bad ones. A responsibility he took with pride, no less--they were similiar in many ways. Dutibound, focused, straight arrows... It made for surprisingly good team work. But with that came some slight cynicism. Maybe it was Jango Fett's personality seeping through that conditioning. Maybe he--as a soldier--inherently expected them. But nevertheless, he kept by the General's side, on the bad days and the good ones.

...Speaking of bad days.

A mine. One that must have missed the minesweepers, or one planted after. If he rightfully believed in it to a religious extent, he'd thank the Force. But there's other things to worry about. Like the status of his men.

He hears Obi-Wan shouting his name, and it's either a good distance away or his hearing's been shot. He lies in the mud, white armor stained lovingly with it as he tries to move his head, only for a sharp, whiplash-like pain to shoot through. His vision's a bit blurry, as he opens those eyes, although whether or not that's from the rain spattering his helm or not has yet to be figured out.

But Cody's not one to ignore his General, as a hand slightly moves, quite an obstacle as he tries not to move his neck any. And tapping his com on his helmet, he answers, albeit gruffly.

"Sir--"

He cuts out slightly, trying to hoist himself up into a sitting position. Easier said than done, with his neck strained and--thankfully, he'd shut off his comm, because a sharp pain rips through his right leg, a scream echoing through his helmet. He was a clone, so he knew pain, and this had to be a strong contender for worst injury. Okay, Cody. Okay. Keep calm. Obi-Wan asked for your location.

"I'm...I'm about a klick east of the mine site."