| abstract
| - Nearly eight days have passed since the failed raid, and no sign of rescue has come - not from the New Republic, and not from the Galactic Empire. For all of its natural beauty, Dathomir has proven to be a hostile and unforgiving world, full of predators big and small, as well as herbivores that have long since realized that if they do not want to be dinner, they have to fight for their right to live. Unbeknownst to them, the Imperial and Republic camps share a common piece of scenery - in the distance, a jagged snow-capped mountain rises out of the earth, its surface appearing far too dangerous to risk scaling for little discernable gain. This afternoon, however, the light catches something about halfway up the mountain's side just right, something highly reflective, and a plume of smoke begins to steadily rise into the air nearby. Nothing natural could have caused the fire. It must be man-made. Wrista had elected to check out the smoke herself when she and the NR survivors the Marines had so far managed to round up spotted it from the new camp they'd established in the Dathomiri forest. They had been busy since landing, recovering all the personnel they could and stripping every crash-site they visited for just about anything of use, but there were a *lot* of people stranded down here. She'd wanted to take the task on herself, but had capitulated when Lt. Draelis had insisted she take a hiking buddy. Picking one of the few other scouts present, on the grounds that they could likely keep up with her and move fairly silently, she had set out with the Corporal, pleased at the marine's ability to keep up. They'd had the same basic training, but Wrista had specialized in this sort of thing, and not all Scouts did. To be honest, she's forced to reflect, as she makes her way speedily towards the mountain, she's glad Vengan had insisted. Despite her rationing, she was running out of the nutritional supplements her metabolism forces on her, and it just wouldn't do to pass out somewhere without anyone else along watching her back. Not that she could really tell anyone about the particulars of that condition. But she seems perfectly fine for all that, the camo-printed wilderness parka draped over her midnight-blue fatigues helping her disappear against the backdrop of leaves and brush, helped along by the layer of Dathomir soil that's steadily collected all over her person. She's had several chances to wash it off, but it's natural camouflage, and that's the best kind. Point of fact, she applied the first bunch of dirt with her own hands, quite deliberately. She has a small, agile blaster carbine slung over her shoulder, and curiously, a curved-blade shortsword strapped under her parka against the small of her back at an angle. With a small team of 4 stormtroopers, Krieg was searching for more members of the 501st that went down here about a week ago. He knew that there was a backup plan for their rescue in this very instance as he had briefed it himself, and it would only be a matter of time before they came. However, the problem was that their supplies only lasted for a day or two, and had been living off the land ever since. Not the most optimal way to survive, but it was what they had to do. Gear had been broken out to conceal themselves in the jungle, camouflage capes and makeshift fauna being used to conceal themselves. Krieg knew that there were rebels down here as well as he along with four other pilots had made a landing on the planet. Yes, they could have used one of the two shuttles in operation down here but risked having them disabled or shot down to any number of rebels that could be here. Instead, their base camp was being used as a staging area for the team they brought with them. Approximately 20 troops in all, but there were many more from the corvette as well as naval personnel down here. He makes his way with his team cautiously through the jungle, one of his STs on point. As Wrista and the scout accompanying her briskly make their way through the forest, they find little true resistance from the local wildlife. They're moving at a good enough clip that even the purboles observing them from within the trees seem resigned to the fact that they will make poor prey and will soon be out of their territory, making them little more than a waste of effort. So far, so good. The more cautious pace taken by the Imperials through the jungle seems to have been a similarly wise decision. It gives them a better view of their surroundings, allowing them to step over snakes rather than on top of them, as well as take notice of signs of larger predators and move around them. Once again... so far, so good. As both groups near their respective portions of the mountain's foot, each group obscured from the other's view by boulders and distance, the wildlife has all but vanished and it soon becomes obvious why. The mountain's surface is rocky and unstable, far too dangerous for anything but the smallest of creatures to safely scale with any speed. It won't be a speedy ascent, particularly not for more than one person, and even at a slow pace, it will not be a safe one. Wrista's scout is Rook Sallowar, a lithe, female human with strikingly blonde hair which she had tastefully (as a scout) pulled back and covered with a makeshift camo-like bandana. The rest of her is in clothing similar to Wrista, just bigger. She moves at a crouch just behind Wrista, shadowing her as they move through the wilderness of Dathomir. Dirt, smudges, etcetera are all about her person and her pasty skin. Apparently though, she doesn't have a problem with keeping up. She's pretty swift. Longer legs. Her eyes sweep the surrounding vicinity constantly as if she's keeping tabs on everything. She follows without a word. When they come upon the base of the mountain, Rook gives the mountain an unpleasant look. Wrista isn't being incautious, per se, in leading her fellow scout swiftly through the terrain. It's simply that in the last week, she's had opportunity to adapt her exhaustive (and frequently exhausting) wilderness training to the local peculiarities. It helps she'd done some research on Dathomir before the raid. "Just in case" had turned into "told you so", much to everyone's chagrin. She comes to a brief stop as they reach the mountain slope and the transition to harsh rock, and Wrista shares a glance with Corporal Sallowar. Unlike Rook, though, Wrista's grinning. She clearly lives for all this muckety-muck stuff. "Could be worse," she muses, gesturing for Rook to turn, so that the much smaller twi'lek can rummage around in the human's pack, eventually producing a reel of cable, probably used for a grapple line normally. "Looks like we get to go rock climbing," she adds, handing Rook the reel while she digs around for other climbing gear in the pack. With his team Krieg makes his way cautiously around all the different plants and animals that inhabit this area. As they reach the mountain and begin to ascend he asks one of the scouts in a hushed voice. "See if you can take a look ahead, otherwise be alert for wildlife. This is Dathomir; I don't want anything sneaking up on us." Yes, he was a pilot and not a trooper, but he had received some basic armor from the troops to go out and scout for the rest of their people. Someone, in their infinite wisdom, had brought more armor than supplies. As his uniform was black and the rocky region they were about to traverse was not vegetative he instructs the squad in the same hushed voice, "Change camo." The troops change out to a definite more 'rocky' attire, taking off a lot of the fauna they would otherwise find in the forest. As soon as they're changed out Krieg begins to scale the mountain with the team, the scout having taken a look ahead. "Yes. I suppose a Rancor could be slobbering over us like a Hutt secretes," Rook offers Wrista a smirk and grabs the reel just in time before it slips from Wrista's hand. It's like clockwork. As Wrista digs for gear, Rook takes a few...several steps back to examine the terrain of the rock face. She works it like a maze in her head, analyzing the different routes they could possibly take. She also takes the moment rearrange the gear on her person and then returns to help Wrista with setting things up. "You go first," she says softly. Lighter person. But for the terrain, the climb looks safe enough. There's no evidence of wildlife large enough to pose a substantial risk, though experienced scouts will no doubt be aware that this sort of terrain may well be home to snakes and predatory fliers, given the number of small rodents that can occasionally be glimpsed scampering across the rocky terrain. If the teams move with enough care, their ascents to the fire should be simple enough. Wrista beams, and clips a belaying ring with one end of the cable attached to a portion of Rook's equipment harness for safety, affixing the other end to her own in a similar fashion. "Always," she agrees, making sure her gloves are well-adjusted for the climb. Those rocks are likely sharp in places. She removes the volumous camo parka so it won't get in the way, tucking it back into a pack. The dark, dark blue she wears underneath will blend with the rock better anyway. She adds a layer of darker dirt from the mountainside to her face and lekku, and starts leading the way up the slope, keeping sharp lookout for problems. In places they're forced to climb, or pick their way carefully, but overall, Wrista was right-- it could be a LOT worse. The scout finishes taking his good look up ahead and begins to scale the rock; it's a free-rock climb as the gradient isn't that bad, but to get back down they'd have to break out the gear. The highly trained troopers move along with Krieg up the hill and a steady and cautious pace. Sharing with the group the scout says back quietly, "There is a TIE solar wing up there, but with gear that is not issued to any of our personnel." Hearing this Krieg thinks there are several different scenarios that could play out, but they are going to be cautious. Quietly he says to the group as they move, "When we reach an area to conceal ourselves prior to the encampment, execute protocol Prestige." They continue to move on, keeping themselves concealed as best they can up the rocky face. Remaining unseen is fairly simple. Unheard is another matter. Every step and every handhold sends little bits of rocks tumbling down the mountainside. Much of it is too small to make a decent amount of noise, but once in a while a softball-sized stone comes loose and starts clacking its way down to the foot of the mountain. To make stealthy matters worse, as both groups move towards the same goal, they will start coming into visual range of each other. There's still a healthy distance between them at this point - several hundred yards - but it doesn't take a pair of macrobinoculars to see that the Republic scouts are not Stormtroopers or TIE pilots, and that the Stormtroopers aren't wearing Republic flightsuits. Rook is pretty much alongside of Wrista in preparation, so when Wrista's ready, so is Rook. She seems pretty good about not standing out...in any manner, except for that fracking hair which she sighs at. "Should dye it..." she murmurs to herself, under her breath. For all her evil eyes at the mountain, she has little problems with it, but she is a little slower than her lekku-ed friend. Then she stops. She doesn't see anything yet. She's just a little paranoid something's going to swoop down and bring her to its babies for supper. Making about as much noise as the other team as there are more of them, it cannot be helped. However, the slow pace keeps it quiet, and they make many efforts not to loosen gravel on their path. In his combat armor that is overtop his normal flightsuit, Krieg had makeshift gear with him from the shuttle to include a heavy blaster and a rifle; each of them had the dull black rifles slung to their backs. As they get closer they start to realize that they may not be the only ones on this path, and that they one they are about to rescue or capture could have a weapon on them this entire way. Eventually they make their way to an outcropping of rocks that they duck into, trying to keep themselves in the cracks to prevent detection, or give them cover should they need it. Unlike the Imperials, the Marines are only wearing the lightest of gear for their climb. The camo parkas are an armorweave fabric, but those have been set aside for better mobility, and they're left with just the basic fatigues plus equipment harnesses and a backpack apiece, plus light weapons. It makes it easier to avoid the noise, though they haven't been all that careful about such, having no real reason to, that they're aware of. However, that changes as they and the Imperials start to draw into proximity. The twi'lek stops, cocking her head, and quietly hisses at her partner. "I think we're not alone up here." Not counting whoever they're going to rescue. That leaves very few possibilities, but there isn't much for it. "Keep moving, but let's try to keep it quiet." The combat gear worn by the Imperials is far bulkier than what is worn by the Republic scouts, and as a result, the scouts move much more quietly than their Imperial counterparts. The outcropping the Imperials choose to duck into is large enough to fully conceal two, but no more - there is a price to be paid for bringing along a more substantial and well-equipped force, and that is a sacrifice in stealth and availability of sufficient cover. As two of the troops duck into the crevasse Krieg and the scout can see that there are others on this hill as well, and it wasn't any gear the Imperials issued but rather that consistent with the rebels. Quietly Krieg realizes that their large group was going to have some serious issues if he didn't think ahead so he quietly says, "You two, stay here, you'll be support if we need you. Keep an eye on things." Taking the scout and the other trooper they continue their ascent. He knew that it didn't matter if they other force saw their troop get smaller, they were concealed and out of sight now. The three of them still make their way in the climb, looking for the next crevasse to conceal themselves within as they get closer. Krieg says to the scout quietly, "Move up ahead and in the natural ruts of the mountain, take a look if there is anything different." The scout complies, moving off their path slightly and quietly in the opposite direction of where the other 'team' is. Wrista hadn't really spotted the Imperials until they started moving yet, and she frown thinly, before ducking back under cover and continuing the ascent, now with a bit more speed, but not at the expense of safety. She'd considering trying to deal with the Imperials here, or at least get a better feel for what they're up to. But either there's an Imperial pilot up this slope, or a Republic one. And either way, it was probably best if she and Rook get there first. She wouldn't mind letting an imperial go free if it meant she could barter for her own free passage, or she could just move on without incident, possibly, but she doubted the Imperials felt as liberal about NR personnel in the reverse situation. As the Imperial scout rounds a natural bend in the mountain's terrain, he finds very good evidence of something different. A massive nest of dry brush has been constructed at the edge of a cliff, and in it are a half-dozen pterodactyl-like creatures, roughly the size of an adult human. They're all looking to the sky and squawking excitedly, wings flapping but giving them no lift. That's about when a large shadow passes over both parties of scouts in turn, and an ear-piercing skree slices through the air. Another creature of the same species is sailing overhead, more than three times the size of the creatures in the nest. It begins to circle around for another pass. /That's/ what Rook was afraid of and it reads all over her face. The look is not as much fear as it is, "Frack. I just had to think it." The comment is no more than a whisper in her throat. "We're going to be dinner," she mumbles to Wrista. "See anywhere we can't be snatched?" she asks softly in an exhale as they continue to ascend. Wrista waves back over her shoulder at Rook to quiet down, indicating with one-handed signals that the thing probably stands the best chance of detecting them by sound. Or... something vaguely like that. Hand-signals are limited in scope, really. She does, however, shift her path, to curve towards an outcropping she can use to get a vantage to see the imperials from. Something in her gut tells her that one of them is the impetus for the flier's dramatic arrival. It was about then that the scout had a very bad feeling about all of this. In a moment of over insightful thinking the scout thought that this winged thing was going to take them on. Either that, or take care of its young if the young were in trouble. He didn't consider too many alternatives as he unclips a frag grenade from his belt and arms it, throwing it into the nest. After that, he lets the small explosive device do the rest. Krieg had just gone to using their commlinks as he spots the beast overhead and had just said, "Stay concealed in that crevasse, and don’t let the beast see you. We're moving up now to a crevasse, keep concealed. We move when we can." The scout scrambles now after the grenade toss, moving up the mountain quickly and into cover behind a branch that is sticking out, forming a slight natural cave where a tree had once attempted to grow. Krieg doesn't realize what the scout has done, yet, until the grenade detonates. The frag grenade proves very effective against the creatures in the nest, their pained shrieks drifting into silence as they tumble off the edge of the cliff and out of sight. The larger one does not skree. It ROARS and tucks its wings in against its sides, diving directly towards the scout that threw the grenade with its massive foot-talons extended and an amazing amount of speed for such a large creature. On the one hand, it has distracted the creature from the rest of the people on the mountain... on the other side, someone is about to become extremely dead. Wrista considers leaving the Imperials to their self-inflicted problem. It's *certainly* a justified action on the part of the mama flier in the wake of the slaughter of its offspring. However, as much as she feels sympathy for the reptilian creature's situation, there is an opportunity here. A crossing point. On the one side is letting the Imperial contend with the predator, probably without a pretty ending. The other is to attempt to save his life and risk her own. Both paths have great potential for ripple effects to them, in wholly different ways. For a second, it's almost like the twi'lek can see those ripples, but she's sure it's just the thin air affecting her. In the end, she detaches herself from rook, pointing up the slope. "Go, I’ll catch up. Hurry." Then she stands upright on the outcropping, cupping her hands to her mouth, and issues forth a shrieking cry. It's a fair approximation of the flier's shriek as it passed by overhead. Wrista's just hoping it'll get the thing's attention. She'll worry about *surviving* that attention when that bridge comes. Dropping his pack on the ledge as he draws his rifle, the scout is prepared for a showdown with the beast. Before the beast can dive and take him out he sights it in, opening fire in attempts to save himself. Krieg quickly figures out what is going on and tells the two in cover, "Keep down, don't fire, and do not provoke the wildlife further." To the other trooper with him he nods to the man saying, "Alright, we move now. That idiot may get us all killed, but he has created a window for us to move." They quickly ascend the mountain now, closing in at all due speed to get to the top. There were good holds on the way up allowing them faster movement. Rook is much less honorable. Perhaps she has some deep resentment holding her back from springing to the Imperial's aide. Perhaps she's just stuck in survival mode and she wants to outrun the slowest person. She at least knows how to work in a team. She nods to Wrista and leaves her to her fate. "Don't die for that idiot," she says in parting before sliding ahead to get to the wreckage and look out for Momma in the meantime. The creature is grazed by one of the stormtrooper's shots, but it only seems to make it angrier. Even with the relative cover the trooper has found for itself, it's moving with enough momentum that it plows right through it and into the trooper talons-first, crashing through the tree and stone he had taken shelter within and soaring out the other side with the white-armored figure held in its feet. Banged up and bloodied, it circles around to pursue the other Imperials, letting loose another roar - and then Wrista's cry sounds and its head whips in her direction. It echoes the shriek and drops the lifeless stormtrooper, the body landing half-in its now empty nest. The Imperials may have just been saved by a New Republic marine. As Rook and Krieg's backup continue to scale the mountain, a ledge comes into view, home to the TIE solar panel and the Republic-issued thermal blanket strapped to it that are the source of the light. A fire pit is next to it, clean white smoke continuing to drift into the air. There are two sets of footprints around the fire, but no one seems to be in that immediate vicinity. Every piece of instinct Wrista's got is screaming as loud as the flier is that what she's doing is the WORST possible idea she could have come up with and to RUN! RUN NOW!, but training is helping her stick through it. She issues a second call to make sure that the flier is definitely paying attention to her and not all those tasty people making tracks, trying to make it sound challenging. It's such a very, very bad idea, but she's committed at this point-- and some would probably say, should definitely *be* committed-- so there's nothing for it but to see it through. She considers her options while she has time, but there are few of them. Shooting it would be a hard shot. The trooper proved that she'd probably have to tag it in the eye or something. And that just leaves running, which she's already abandoned, or... A steely whisper sounds loud in the twi'lek's ears as she draws the sword from behind her, perhaps possessed by some strange form of wilderness dementia. She brings it up next to her head in a high guard position, waiting to see what the flier does next. Whatever happens, it seems she's bought both Rook and the Imperials some measure of safety. Whatever else happens is what happens. Fate, it would seem, would have this turn out an entirely different way for Krieg and his trooper. It seems at this point that the other two troopers were able to keep their cover, and the beast didn't track them down. As for he and his other trooper they make their way towards the small encampment, but quickly realize that nobody is there. The footprints are obvious in their sight as well, but they had a few other issues to contend with than just a simple tracking of whoever was here. There was another with them now, totally three - she was far less armored, but the difference in armor was of little importance here, it was more of speed. Quickly taking a hold of the situation Krieg has his right hand on the blaster at his hip as he is in a crouch after getting to the ledge. He points to the tracks that lead toward what seems to be a cave and gives the trooper a signal to go there. As for the woman, he looks straight at her and says, "Stay here and die or come with us and take a chance." Without waiting for her response he moves towards and into the cave as well, it was not time for them to be dealing with the avian. Before he moves into the cave he's able to take a good look at the encampment, taking note of what he sees. Rook is quick, but she sees quickly that it doesn't matter. She's outnumbered and while there is nothing but mistrust in her eyes with her fingers on her blaster, she nods to Krieg. She'll have a better chance in a cave anyways. "I will follow." She doesn't draw her weapon...yet. The creature beats its wings to come into a hover straight across from Wrista, with perhaps twenty meters between them. It peers at her with beady black eyes, obviously still irritated from the loss of its young and out of sorts from taking a header through part of the mountain, but focused on the twi'lek. It gives a loud cry and looks as if it's about to strike -- And then the sunlight reflects off of Wrista's sword, shining directly in the creature's eyes. The cry goes from enraged to pained as it turns on its tail to retreat, soaring past its nest and diving downwards, towards where the bodies of its young have fallen. Deep within the cave is another, smaller fire, and two people. One is a human man in most of a TIE pilot's uniform, covered in healing bruises and scratches, one of his legs wrapped in a splint from a med kit he did not have. The other inhabitant did. Sitting next to him is a squib in an X-Wing pilot's uniform, leant over to tend to one of the Imperial's cuts, until he notices the new arrivals. "Saved!" the squib cries happily, clapping its hands excitedly. The fact that Imperials entering the cave outnumber Republic personnel doesn't even seem to register on his awareness. "Happy day, happy day!" Wrista just stares the massive flying reptile down. It's not that she's trying to intimidate it, though. She *can't* look away. Or she'll miss what she's looking for. Her instructor in the ways of weapon use, long before she ever became a marine, had taught her to look for what he called the Crease. It was something everyone had. Even animals. There comes a point at which one commits oneself to attack, and is unable to defend. Everyone telegraphs this moment, but everyone does so differently. That is what Wrista was waiting for. The opportune moment. But it never comes, the sun's glare from her blade solving the problem for her, and the marine lets out a breath she hadn't remembered holding, looking around for the others as she sheaths the weapon. She had no idea how long she'd stood there. It felt like hours. But clearly, the rest had moved up the slope, and she takes a moment to fish in a pocket, withdrawing a stick of concentrated sugar not unlike a candy cane. Placing the sugarstick in her mouth not unlike a cigarra so she can suck on it, the twi'lek peers down in the direction the flier descended in, frowning lightly. "I'm sorry for your loss," she murmurs quietly, then drops from her rock and continues the climb, whatever she thinks of the event remaining an internal monologue. Life goes on, and so does she. The woman he runs into doesn't provide him too many problems. It is when Krieg enters the cave and sees the two men in there, the Imperial requiring medical attention and the rebel pilot sit there he starts to wonder what is going on. No doubt they setup the reflector outside. On the inside it was safe for them, it seemed. Taking a good look at the situation he says to his trooper, "Take a look at our pilot, see what medical attention you can provide." Still not having drawn his own blaster Krieg looks at the squib, his right hand still resting on his weapon. To them both he says firmly, his eyes alit with passion. "Tell me, what happened." He waits for a reply, making sure to keep everything secure here. There was no room for surprises. Tapping his commlink with his left hand he says, "Alright, we have two pilots up here. Standby for retrieval, we may need support." There were several situations that could play out here, and he was left with a moral problem of an enemy from the other side right before him. And one right behind him. Rook has her fingers resting on her blaster as well. She nods to the Squib with little merriment as if to signal that he should be at least /somewhat/ on guard. "It is good to see you safe," she mentions and picks up on the details relayed over the comm. The TIE pilot and squib exchange a look before nodding to each other, the squib scurrying over towards Rook to give the stormtrooper room to look the TIE pilot over. While they converse quietly, the squib straightens up to speak to Krieg in very broken Basic. "Mighty space duel!" it explains, pointing back to the other pilot and nodding excitedly. "Much skill. Debris through our engines, stopped working so good. Crashed together." The squib looks very upset by this - the damaged ships more than the crashing. "Your man, very hurt. Barvareedee -" He thumbs at himself. "- drag him here before bad birds find us, fix his ouchies. Wait for rescue together." Over Krieg's com comes a nervous-sounding Imperial-accented voice. "Marshall Inrokana, this is Base Camp. Sir, we... I'm counting a half dozen rancors gathering near the southern perimeter. Two adults, the rest young. We don't know what they're doing, but we can't fit everyone into the ships. What are your orders?" Finally catching up at the cave, Wrista slips inside with the sort of silent movement that earned her nicknames at the Academy, just in time to catch the Squib's story. She opts to not make her presence known immediately, knowing that her dark clothing, grey skin, and the bright light outside will combine to make it nearly impossible to see her there. However, Krieg's com message brings a new set of variables into play. Again, as with the flier, choices and repercussions are arrayed, but having already chosen once, it's much simpler this time. She steps forward from the wall, further into the cave, and speaks up. "We have room at our camp," she muses quietly. No doubt, there would be complaints about this offer. But it was a singular opportunity. More than once, she has heard stories from old Alliance officers about kindnesses repaying themselves into defections. They were on Dathomir because command was resurrecting the old Alliance ways. Perhaps it was also time for new stories. "Running water, good cover. Off the main hunting grounds, but close enough for game. People could survive quite some time there, if they're careful," she muses, tone nonetheless wary. All Krieg could think of was 'frack'. His mind was racing, but instinctively he says on the comm, "Take all our wounded and get them in the shuttles. Get our fighters and shuttles off the ground..." There is a pause as if he was about to say more on the comm when he looks to this new woman. He had heard her offer and knew what it could mean, but he also knew that without support any ground force on a planet such as this would have a serious time attempting to survive. The offer was not standard and he knew their force was just crushed. Torn between an enemy that stood for every destructive act in the galaxy and prolonging a war that should not be he gives in to logic. Before speaking on the comm again he asks, "How much room does this camp have space for?" The question is posed as neutral as can be, not knowing who these people really were. Then again, they didn't know who he was earlier. He does call the other two men, "Get up here to the cave now, it appears we won't be headed back to our camp." The squib, for his part, looks thrilled with Wrista's offer. "Good bargain!" it says with a sage, excited nod, looking up at Krieg. "If camp small now, Barvareedee make bigger! Safety in numbers! Yes, yes, greater than rancor lunch!" "I think the little guy has a point," Rook points out once things /seem/ a little on the up and up. The squib is infectious apparently. "Have you stripped the wreckage?" she asks the Squib as she leaves Wrista to negotiations. "As many as are required," Wrista replies to Krieg without a pause to think about it. "We intend to find every Republican survivor we can, and if our location isn't large enough, we will find another that is," she explains with a tone of determination, the sort that has absolute belief in their ability to make whatever is necessary work. She manages a slight, lopsided grin around her sugarstick. "I think a few extra aren't out of the question. We should endeavor to arrive first and explain the situation, however, but it's your choice. Either way, *we're* vacating the premises." She tilts her gaze to the squib. "Barvareedee, was it? Pack your gear, pilot, we're getting out of here. We'll skip worrying about stripping the fighter this time. Pull your black box and the navcomp memory, though." Her manner suggests that Krieg is welcome to decline the offer, and even try and stop them from leaving if he wants, but in that last choice, there will be one nasty fight to be had. She's feeling generous, not pliant. For Krieg, it was not about the ability if it would work or not, it was the fact that he needed a place to send his people. Other Imperial commanders would take what they could, kill the beasts and leave but it was he that was in charge, not them. The scout had made the sacrifice already, and it was not what Krieg wished for him to do. In fact, Krieg saw it as an overtly foolish act, one that nature corrected for him. On the comm again he says, "Take the shuttles head to their camp. Stand down all hostilities; stay armed to defend yourselves from the beasts. Do not provoke them. Do I make myself clear? The rest of the forces are to proceed on foot." Well, they would be safe in this cave and the rest of their forces would gather up at a single point. Rebel and Imperial alike. It would seem his hand has been forced, but there was nothing that could stop that at this point. Looking to the Twi'lek he says, "My men have stood down from open hostilities. Do not make me regret this decision." Soon the other two troopers make their way here and he waves to them to stand down. For now everyone here was safe, but the rest of his men were making their way out of harms way. Krieg's expression was that of a man with many thoughts on his mind, but it was clear he could still make decisions in utter calm despite the situation. Sternly he says to her, "Give my troops the coordinates, and we will make our way there. We have some air cover, but I do not want to provoke more of these creatures. The other man was a fool that paid for his actions." The squib nods up at Rook. "Mine and his. No peeks, would be bad bargain," he notes solemnly. When Wrista speaks to him, he squares his shoulders and nods crisply before scurrying further back in the cave, quickly beginning to load his gear - including his fighter's black box and navcomp memory - into his oversized backpack. "Much loot, honored sirs and ma'ams," he grunts as he starts dragging the loaded pack back to the front of the cave, shooting Krieg's arriving pair of stormtroopers a hopeful look. "Trade ration bars for help?" he asks brightly. The man over Krieg's com sounds confused, but very relieved. "Their...? The rebels'? Yes sir. We will begin preparation for the relocation at once, Marshall. Base Camp out." Wrista arches an eyebrow, but her voice isn't hostile. It might even be somewhat welcoming, of all things. "You may relax, Marshal. The Republic takes its advantages where it can and pursues them diligently, but deceit and trickery are not our way. We are willing to call a truce to increase our chances if you are. I assume you have access to the Galactic Survey Service maps; have your shuttles meet us at grid location 421/381. We'll approach the camp from there and notify my people in person to avoid incidents." The marines had scavenged all their com equipment, including personal coms, in an effort to build an emergency transmitter that put a signal into orbit, and quite a few other things had been scavenged for the power to run that and a jury-rigged sensor suite. Inwardly Krieg sighs as to the trooper’s lack of protocol on the comm. There were a few things they would have to learn about using such ranks on the radio. Alas, the damage was done and Krieg wasn't one to dwell on things that could not be changed. He signals to the troopers to relay the coordinates, they were there to hear what he had to say and it was a very clear order. It would be complied with or there would be others that would not make it off this planet. He ignores the others in the cave; they would do what they had to do. Devoting his attention to Wrista he says, "So I have your confidence, but I do not have your name." There's a short pause before he adds, "Any infractions of my orders will be severely dealt with. Logic and survival tells us that we need to work together. And if you're wondering a rescue was planned prior to all this, and we will be getting off this rock in due time." Wrista offers a slender hand, the diminutive twi'lek displaying no reservation in doing so. She takes the hint and does one better, going so far as to offer her unit as well. "Fair enough. I only have yours due to an eavesdropping. Lieutenant Wrista Ipex, 224th Raider Battalion." Frontline unit, one of the best in the NRMC. It's entirely likely Krieg might know of it-- it's a highly celebrated unit. And for all Krieg's rank, Wrista seems to have zero compulsion to treat him as anything but an equal-- the opposing force commander, hostilities temporarily suspended. "And I would expect no less than a timely rescue; otherwise I would wonder why you were here. I imagine we can say similar, at least to the first part. But that is a bridge that will be crossed when it comes. For now, I shall be honored to have met one of the Empire's best and lived to tell of it." She gestures towards the mouth of the cave. "Shall we?" Taking her hand in a firm handshake, it was a formality and the show that their agreement was binding. It was a very old way of saying that each party agreed, and Krieg was still a man of honor. He listens to what she has to say and wonders what sort of fate brought her here. In response he says, "Well Lieutenant, it seems we have found ourselves at an impasse. For now let us go and deal with the situation that no doubt is brewing." He signals the rest of the people in the cave to execute a pullout on his order. Walking behind Wrista he says, "Lead the way Lieutenant. As for our rescue, that shall be a discussion for later in the abundance of time we are going to have."
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