Log:Rebellion: Rescue Moi

Rescue Moi

OOC Date: February 05 2025
Location: Sarkhai
Participants: Runsa Zhal, Cin'cirad Rook, Ben Relor & Hadrix Kora

There's a single ping given by Rieve's tracker, bounced through various means and though it is obvious that the local law enforcement are attempting to track that digital signature, the means with which that ping was disguised and directed was certainly a step above whatever means the law enforcement here on Sarkhai were using. The direction was clear, it was a few blocks within the cordon, a few blocks of dilapidated industrial buildings currently being searched by various teams of the local constabulary. The lighting above was sporadic at best, it afforded shadow in some spots as much as it did blinding light in others.

Litter scattered the ground, and one could see the decline in this area was unrelenting. Buildings were either home to failing businesses or empty husks that once housed fabricators and storage. A few blocks to the east one could see signs of rejuvenation, the march of progress had yet to stalk this far inwards.

Into the cordoned area, the roads were blocked, and this area like the others was no different with a couple of police grav-cars, four officers on watch, the usual tape and a certain strained vigilance. They were nervous. Either side of the street, amidst flickering light and darkness, boarded windows lead into disused buildings that slipped within the cordoned zone. So far, from the other side of the street... you were all unseen and shrouded in darkness.

The mission was simple, no fatalities to the local law enforcement, and rescue those who remained from this ill-fated mission of co-operation.

--

It's all about using the tools appropriate for the situation when it gets right down to how to conduct a Rebellion. Runsa Zhal is not wearing the typical robes of the Jedi Order, having thrown off her hood in favor of a dark brown bomber jacket. Likewise, she's wearing a long billed dockworker's hat and she's smeared grease upon her hands to hide the general lack of callous from the casual observer and to roughen up her image.

It's small things that defuse the silhouette, not a full diguise. In the shadows across from cadre of Rebel soldiers and sympathizers, she remains quiet with grey-ish red eyes shifting from one face to the next while suggestions are presented.

--

Crouched within the shadows, Siralana, decked out in her Mandalorian armor, albeit with a bit of cloth tossed over it to help break up her outline and hide the armor a bit more from view looks at the others. Turning down the volume as she murmurs softly, <"So, anyone got a plan for how we're going to get in there, or just wing it?"> She turns her head to look at the grav-cars and officers. It definitely was going to be an... interesting time.

Adjusting the fit of the close fitting shock gloves - not shock boxer gloves - she also double checks that the stun baton is free and ready at her him. After all, wouldn't want it to get caught on anything when she was trying to draw it - if that was needed. Hopefully, it wouldn't be needed.

--

Sure, no fatalities. But that doesn't mean Ben Relor isn't armed to the teeth and, much more importantly, loaded down with enough explosive components to blow a karking hole through an entire compound if he has to. As a member of Special Ops like Selki and Kora, however, he's not necessarily here to be just the muscle. He's here to find the cracks in things and open them as necessary. That's what he does best.

Ben crouches low, voice clipped. "The cops are jumpy. Means they're spooked or waiting for orders. We can't sit on this." He glances at the team. "Two options: Sneak past through a side building, or make them look the other way. I can slice their comms, or someone else can, feed 'em bad intel. Or someone plays scared civvie, freaks 'em out with a fake emergency." His gaze flicks back to the checkpoint. "Whatever we do, we do it now. What's the call?"

--

Hunkered down, helmet on and reclining in shadow, Hadrix watched for the time being. Hand flexing in his gauntlet and studying. It was curious to wonder how a man that size and in that armor could remain quiet, or hidden.

But The Boar-Wolf of Ealor was a curious figure.

His voice rumbles over comms, <<"We're not to kill. Parameters are fuzzy on the notion of concussions...">> Leaning some, into a three-point stance hunched like a hunting cat ready to pounce. <<"But I could go unseen, as needed.">> Seeming to wait on the others for their call.

--

Runsa regards the others present and offers each a gentle nod. While her appearance has certainly been roughed up, her demeanor remains as dignified as ever. With her hands behind her back where they're organized across the street to prepare themselves for whatever must be done to recover their lost comrades. "I'll speak with them." She says this as she pushes off her place against a wall. It's not a direct path to the officers, so as not to draw attention to the others still hiding there.

The closer she gets, and certainly once she's in view of the spooked law enforcement, her demeanor becomes less proper. More concerned with an expression born of curiosity once she's grown close enough that they take note of her.

Careful eyes pick out the one who commands the most authority and it's towards him that she speaks. While reaching out through the Force and letting it drip from every word spoken, "Hey, sir! Hey, yeah, over here." No more smile, "You boys seem a little jumpy.. I got a couple'o my guys coming through with a whole shipment of durasteel plates tho.." Thumb back over her shoulder in a vague direction, using hand motions to distract their attention. "Any way we can move this along so I don't gotta redirect them?"

It's not really WHAT she says. The details of it. It's questions aimed at drawing out information on 'what the officers want' and 'what would make them pack up shop' "We're kinda on a time crunch, bud... supervisor breathing down our necks."

--

Sira looks around and spots a bit of a long crate which look like it could contain durasteel plates. Filling it mostly with junk she puts two of the rusted plates that are 'big enough' into the crate and jerks her head toward Relor. <"You and me, Kid. We'll carry the crate."> Then turning her head in the direction of Hadrix so her mirrored helm is in his direction, <"Vod, you be our guard. Ya know, to make sure that it looks like we're hauling something valuable enough to steal.">

Sira pulls off her helm, clipping it to her belt so that it might not be completely obvious that she's rocking Mandalorian armor. With the helm secured, she'll even toss on a bit of dirt along her cheeks and then brush it off to look a bit more downtrodden before picking up one end of the crate.

--

"Wait, what? What're you planning to say to 'em?" Ben's brow furrows as Runsa makes a decision and just walks off, and his face stays that way the whole time she's talking to the cops. He mutters something to himself and glances over at Five, who is definitely here, by the way. Because Five is always with Ben unless it's -really- inconvenient.

He sighs a little, running a hand over his face, and then squints over at Sira. "So we're going the distraction route, or do you have something else in mind?" He's not protesting the idea, though. Incidentally, he doesn't really need to look any dirtier than he already is...but there's apparently no hiding the fact that he's a rebel loaded down with explosives. Hopefully, no one gives them shavit about that...

"Five, stay here for now," Ben mutters. "I'll contact you over comms if I need anything." Five beeps and Ben moves up to join Sira in the crate-carrying antics. "We're gonna have a helluva time getting out of here," he muttesr. Every road's barricaded, and there's a team in the cordoned area sweeping the street...there's a body out there under a tarp, cops taking holopics." His brow furrows even more. "That better not be Selki under there, or I'll kill him in the afterlife, I swear to the stars I will..."

--

Watching Runsa stand and approach, Hadrix's head cants to one side. Apparently getting an idea with the way he shifts

<<"If that's as you prefer...">>

And then when requested to act as guard, the big man stands up to his full height. No need to fade from view then - he merely moves to enter escort position once the whole group of them begins walking.

<<"As for everything being cordoned off... That won't be an issue.">>

--

The older officer turns to regard Runsa as she approaches, his eyes darkening for a moment as he holds up a hand somewhat wearily. "Look, I can't say what's going on in there..."

The younger officer exhales a breath. "Not much, they're mostly dead."

Though this break is silenced with a hiss and their attention is drawn to that hand and then Runsa herself, their focus on the stained workhand. "Look I... I... kriff. I wish I could let you through... my brother-in-law used to work in the Zelgos Foundry until it closed, I know how hard you've got it at the moment, but good times ahead huh?" A brief nod is given to the construction several blocks away.

Of course the scuffle of crate and people draw the gaze too. Sira is regarded with squinty eyes, with the younger cop drawing down a visor to peer into the darkness. "That your crew? Aye..." The visor scans to Ben and there's a brief pause. "Always one runt, I guess he's one of those soft Hapans huh? Supervisor's nephew or something? Ever worked a day in his life?" Oh there's a grin, a laugh. "Look..." The guard, the crate, the goods. The older officer steps towards Runsa. "Go straight there. I'll clear you with the first patrol... but you wander further than that and frankly, there's nothing I can do for you." His gaze takes a solemn edge, he swallows hard. "You wander off course, I can't do anything for you."

That said, the younger officer moves to turn off the flickering holo-tape that sealed off the road. "Be quick..."

--

'Not much, they're all dead'

That's rough to hear, but Runsa keeps her reaction muted for the sake of the story. "I know, I getcha, just the supervisor is a nerf buster.. He's got us working with his nep-" The Force led her to the statement seconds before the words come out of the Older Cops mouth, lending credibility to the fabrication she's created. Which isn't to say she was going to insult Ben, so much as playing into what the Elder Law Enforcement was going to say before he says it.

"You got it in one, pal." A discreet grin, "Winning to get his hands dirty tho, just gotta work him out of that easy living he's use to." Oh, no, she's enjoying the fact that the officers are convinced SHE is a Construction worker and BEN is a soft and pampered Hapan.

"Buddy... you're savin' our butts here." She extends, looks at the grease, and pulls it back with a palms out shrug and a good natured laugh so as not to smear the grease all over his nice uniform. "Alright, you heard the man! Shake a leg, we've got a deadline to meet and I'm not taking drek if we're behind schedule." The Holotape is hoisted and Runsa leads the way through the cordoned off section of street that had previously blocked their progress.

A little ways further down, not quite out of eyeshot, but deep enough into the ruins of a broken neighborhood, she cuts off the road towards the delapedated buildings the line the road they're on. She'd gotten them through and crouches near a crumbling wall to hear what the next leg of the plan will be.

--

Sira, with the help of Ben, starts carrying the crate across the road while moving so that Hadrix is hopefully the one that draw more attention. After all, he's the one that's meant to be the guard anyway! She shifts a bit so as to not get too caught up on the cloth she's using to cover over her armor. She'll let Ben be in the front to help hide the armored legs a bit more.

Unfortunately, that seems to be exactly what helps Ben seem a bit less like the 'downtrodden worker' and much more like a... Sira has to stifle a snort as she hears the 'Soft Hapan' line. The mirthful look in her eyes as she looks at Ben, doing her best to hide that she's a hairsbreath from laughing at that. Though once they manage to get a bit out of sight, she motions her head in the direction Runsa went and slips down the side street as well before setting down the crate as quietly as she can with Ben. "Soft Hapan." She says quietly, "Good thing you're not a pilot, Kid, or that'd be your callsign."

--

Ben, a bit of sweat gathered on his brow as they move that crate, looks completely flabbergasted. "Stars and moons above, there's a first time for everything." He glances at Hadrix for a moment, then at Sira with eyebrows raised. He looks seriously confused. "Do I look like someone who's never done a day of work in my life?!" I mean, he has a point! He may be skinny, but he's half-feral-looking and covered in scars. His half-gloved hands are totally callused. "The Selki must be rubbing off on me from here..."

Crate put down again, Ben takes out his macrobinoculars to have a quick look around. "'S gonna rain soon," he says, which is...not very helpful, actually. So he takes out a battered flask from his jacket and takes a long swig. Because this mission already calls for alcohol.

--

Drifting into the dark, once the party has gotten out of sight, the gloomy colours of Hadrix's armor seeming to swallow up light in spite of the iridescence of the plates. Moving from shadow to shadow as if the light were antithesis to him. Finding a pool of darkness to hunker in when the others stop.

The discussion that erupts seeming to ruffle the big man some as he listens, before he is moving. Or at least it's assumed he did. He disappears from sight and hearing. Footfalls aimed for soft ground, cloth, densiboard and other materials to mask his steps when not simply leaping to grab sturdy material to swing from.

<<"There are people here, likely homeless. Patrol inbound, eyes and ears.">>

Wherever the hell -he- went...

--

Getting within the building is easy enough, there's been enough vandalism here to see that hardly a single window exists in a fully unbroken state. Even those protected by screens are shattered somehow, most likely from within and out of spite. The building into which Hadrix vanishes is one old factory, crumbling as the ferrocrete crumbles from neglect. The patrol the Hadrix mentions swings into view, tac-lights scanning the various buildings as they sweep towards the group and the derelict factory. Steps are slow. Methodical. Their visors down as they peer into the gloom of this depressing quarter. However, as Hadrix slinks into the factory, there's a faint ionising whine of a blaster from deep within the darkness... a gentle scuffle of feet, the shift of a figure shrouded in layers of blankets and trash, their features hidden beneath a shadow-casting cowl of their own making. "You better tread slow... this is our turf..."

--

It was by miracle and tenacity only that Runsa was able to slip off the street without drawing every watchful eye from here to Market Square, which is precisely why any further attempts at stealth are pretty much out the window. It's just not her skillset. She walks directly up to people and starts talking... that's her move. It's pretty much her only move.

Now, she tries, so she should get an A for Effort, but it goes incredibly poorly. Slinking down into the shadows was easy enough, but rather than stepping out and over a pile of broken glass, she steps directly onto it. CRANK... crunch... crrrrrk...

Then directly out of the shadows.

Right into view of the tac-lights shining directly in her face. Both hands up, "Whoa! Don't shoot!" She's not yelling, but she is speaking loud enough for the more stealthy elements of the team to hear her. "Everything's fine.. 'Keep going'..." That's not the affect mind, no, that was her speaking to the rest of the team.

"I was just about to come back to the tape line! I saw a group of shady looking blokes running through here from my construction site..." Her hand turns to point in the direction of the construction site she'd pretended to be foreman for. "Look't like they stole some of our blast cutters."

Still, her hands are up, "/They went that way.../" There's the very discreet wave of her hand as she reaches out through the Force, but ends up pointing in the opposite direction of everyone else still hunkered down. "I'll head back and tell the other officers!"

--

Cin'cirad was just having one of those days it seems as she can't help but snort and let out a laugh at Ben's comments. She slides her helmet on as she starts to ponder ways that she might be able to like... paint that on his gear or something. Ben Soft Hapan Relor. She does her best to stifle the laughter while going through the torn out buildings. Hearing Hadrix's warning of the patrols and the homeless. She manages to get herself under control with a few short breaths.

And then promptly kicks the edge of some rubble, stumbling forward into the open. Though, it might not be too bad! She still has a chance. Using the stumbling motion to grab a rock off the ground she plants her feet and hucks it in the direction that Runsa is pointing. It's a great throw, really, leave her hand flying just the right direction.

And then it hits the wall about ten feet away from her - instead of over it - rebounds and lands right at her feet. She looks down at it, accusingly, as she mutters, <"Well... Kriff me. That was unfortunate.">

--

Ben mutters something about those guys having poor eyesight. He manages to sneak by without any issues, sticking to the shadows like a good little scout...but now Sira and Runsa are both out in the open? "Oh, shavit," Ben mutters, picking up a rock to try to help out, and...unlike Sira's throw, his just lands right on his toe. He shoves his first into his mouth so he doesn't scream aloud. OW!

Okay, well. At least he managed to get by. Going to wherever it is they're going. Yep. The question is, do Runsa and Sira need him more, or will Hadrix and Rieve need him more? Or maybe no one will need him at all, and he'll just be left with a black and blue toe and the inevitable post-mission hangover.

--

When the threat of a blaster comes the big man's helmed head turns towards the shuffling figure, the red glow in his visor flaring briefly.

"This is not a good time... Move along."

And he is gone again, moving on objective, dropping to all fours at times for mobility and scuttling along.

<"More inside the factory. I am heading on objective. If this continues to be wearisome I will cause a distraction...">

What could the man do that would be a distraction?! Besides just... well standing in places. But what -more-?

--

The officers had heard of the small group of hard working blue collar folk and Ben that were heading into the zone, directed to make their way straight to their premises. Runsa stepping out was met with a brief flicker of hands towards their stun batons, though the message from the perimeter gave them some leeway at the very least, who'd expect the hard working toilers of this district to be quiet? "Seriously. You need to get off the street and tell your... friend there to stop throwing rocks. For kriffs sake, this place is broke enough as it is." A glower is given Sira, that and a rather disappointed headshake. "Seriously, you're part of the problem, and you break anything, I'll break you."

"Get your people under control. Seriously." A glance is given the direction that Runsa gestured at, though two of them seem somewhat annoyed, the other nods and gestures for the two to follow. "We can't promise anything!" And three officers begin to move away, Runsa's calm and collected manner having dealt another smooth dealing with the police. While Sira and Ben tossed rocks at their feet... on a positive note, only Sira was chided for her vandalism attempt.

Within the factory, the shuffling figure eyes the spot where that shadow vanished. A glance is given the noisy group beyond the broken window. The bundle of layers drifts back into the darkness, though the weapons whine quiets...

--

"Sorry, Officers." Runsa's hands move side to side, blocking some of the light shining into her grey-ish red eyes, when they're all chided for being where they were very specifically told not to be. Meanwhile, Hadrix is handling business like the sneaky hound he is. "It's a new crew." She explains with a sheepish grin and a flick of her wrist when approaching Sira, "Come'on you knuckleheads." Her gaze shifts, ushering her, at least nominally, in the direction of their destination of expectation.

"That way." She murmurs, pointing further into the broken down buildings. Hand slaps Sira on the arm, "Go." Let loose into the wilds of the duracrete jungle. A few dozen steps and she nudges her with her elbow, murmuring, "Link back up at the construction site once you've got everyone."

Sometimes a reset is all that's needed to get the train running back along the tracks? Hopefully the Diplomatic Jedi has righted the wrongs and Sam Beckett can finally leap home.

--

Stepping out after Runsa, she nods her head in the direction of the Officers. <"Sorry about that. Bit of a story, but you won't catch me trying to throw any stones through any windows."> She turns to look after the Officers, and then follows along after Runsa doing her best to make it look like she's supposed to be here instead of trying to be completely inconspicuous. Let's face it... That spaceship flew right out the window, instead of into the wall where the rock hit.

She gives a glance back toward where she /thinks/ Ben is, but she doesn't spot him. So instead she just starts moving along toward the factory. Moving to link back up with the others, including the large man who did a sight better job of straight up vanishing into the ether. She still has no idea where Hadrix got off to... Except that he's apparently in the building as he had mentioned the people inside the factory.

--

Although his toe is smarting, it's not enough to make him limp, at least. That's an improvement. Ben takes another quick swig from his flask, then, staying low, makes his way through the window after that shadow in the night (also the biggest dude here), Hadrix.

Staying quiet, he pulls up his comlink and murmurs into it. "Few vagrants up ahead. Might be a dead body in the corner. I don't know what's going on here, but look alive. I don't trust it."

--

Continuing on objective, the big man keeps to the shadows while moving as quickly as he can.

<<"Sending compass signal.">>

A brief word from Al'Verde Kora on the route and as said a 'ping' comes over the teams comms - providing directionals on HUDs or at least a directional point in the form of a series of soft clicks over a standard commlink when pointed the wrong way.

A corpse... Approached and given a modest check-over; while being wary of potential explosives... At least until something else catches his eye. Reaching behind to tap his elbow against a haft and causing the vibro-ax hanging there to drop down, catching it and engaging to extend the blade into a full bearded form.

<"Rieve...">

--

The corpse was one of the other Sarkhai operatives, they had been flung bodily into the wall with such force that they never stood a chance, the wall itself bears the imprint of the impact. The body broken. Shattered. And yet the ping? The bundle of rags and rubbish shifts faintly, though nothing truly emerges aside from a soft pained huff.

With entrance into the building easily made, with the early successes of deception laying a broad foundation for the patrolling officers, the only little hiccup might well be the homeless people who shuffle from the shadows.

"We can hear you all... shuffling about. We took their stuff. Food. Creds. It is ours. You aren't getting any of it. You want out? Got anything to trade?" The voice rings out, loud enough for those slipping back within to hear, likewise to greet Hadrix's own ears. "Medicine? Creds? Food? Work with us. We'll work with you." Yet perhaps as a gesture of some sort, the blaster that whined earlier whines once more as it is clicked off. "The one under that pile? He still lives."

--

Homeless beings are standing betwixt them and the individual whom they'd come to rescue. Starving, poor, cold, and in need of medicine. Rags, barely skin and bones, but armed with the weapons from Rebels. Runsa steps out into the fliker of lights with her hands up, pointing out towards them when the whine of the blaster reports from somewhere in the darkness. "This is your territory and we're not here to disrupt it." She says in a softer voice than the gritty one she'd used when under disguise as a construction worker. Smooth, easy, but without a smile.

"We didn't come with any extra gear that we're able to part with, but I have credits." She motions a point down to her belt as her hand lowers towards it to retract a fairly sizable purse.

She isn't sure how she'll make that happen, but she sure is convinced she'll go out of her way to do so. 

"For now, we're not taking anything, we're buying safe passage." It is without a doubt that there will still end up being medicine delivered. "Just put the blasters down and let us collect him.." The point angles towards the individual beneath the rags.

"It doesn't have to get messy."

--

Sira is moving up by the piles where Hadrix is, looking down at the corpse and she gives a little grunt, turning when she hears the Homeless people starting to come up near them. Turning, she moves off to the side to give Hadrix space to move while also not being directly behind any of the others. Essentially, clearing the lanes of travel (or fire) in case it comes to it.

Though as Runsa is talking to them, Sira's head is turning a little, using the augmented reality and nightvision of her helmet to get a look around without making it obvious that she's 'looking' around. Checking to see if anyone is sneaking up on them, or double crossing them, as the Jedi moves to strike a deal. She has a bit of tension about her - ready to move if things go sideways.

Not hearing or seeing anything, she just keeps checking. It's one thing to trust that the deal will happen, it's another to trust them completely and let your guard down... She's not letting her guard down.

--

While Runsa is distracting them, and Sira is doing the scouting Ben would normally default to, the oh-so-bougie (?!) demo-tech is scampering on down to where he reckons Rieve to actually be. Quiet, stealthy...so stealthy. He'll lift up the sheets or whatever other debris may be covering Rieve, whispering: "That you, Selki? We're gonna get you outta here."

And presuming Hadrix is there, too, he'll look to the big man for help. Not that Ben couldn't do it alone...but Hadrix might just make this a teeeeensy bit easier.

--

A nod to Ben as he steps up, looking to where Runsa is keeping attentions, the big man hunkers to utilize those distractions to scoop up the Hapan where he lay and tuck him up like he were hip-carrying a particularly floppy limbed, oversized, toddler.

<<"Best get clear of here, and quick.">>

Shared over squad comms once more.

--

"You know... I can walk." Rieve mutters as he's pulled from the pile of rags and garbage by Ben and Hadrix, yet even so a bright grin is flashed to both. Though his left arm is tightly bound across his front as he staggers slightly, needing the support. "I think I dislocated my shoulder when I threw myself through a window..." A faint wince is noted as the blue-haired Hapan, streaked with grime and dirt and blood casts his bleary gaze down his bound arm. "None of the others are with you?" Though that sentence trails off as his gaze falls to the Sarkhai operative laying on the floor. "Oh."

Runsa's approach sees the shrouded figure shuffle forwards, a rag covered hand extended. "Creds will do. We'll show you the route beyond the cordon... do not come back. Your friends here caused enough trouble, making a mess..." Limbs flail and direct the group's gaze about this ramshackle and derelict 'abode'. "Well perhaps not much trouble, they never stood a chance." A shrug. The form hunches over and gestures for the group to follow, moving without pause at a slow and shuffling pace.

Sira would continue to note that the homeless here have relaxed a little, though still on edge. Two have moved to deal with the Sarkhai operative, no doubt moving the body to someplace it'll be found.

Rieve for his own physical troubles shifts a touch uncomfortably, one could only wonder if he's been hiding there since everything went south. The blue-haired Hapan nods to Runsa and Sira too, grinning still as he exhales a ragged breath. "It's so good to see you all."

--

Runsa notes Hadrix and Ben pulling Rieve from the rags and, though she doesn't know him directly, assumes by the way the big Mandalorian is carrying him, that this is who they'd come to rescue. Her hands remain up save for one that drops down to loosen the credit purse, under hand tossing it towards the Homeless man who has been doing the most speaking. "You have my appreciation." She muses with a bow of her head, slipping after the one offering to lead them through the abandoned buildings in a direction that will keep them from further interaction with the Officers.

Instinctively she wants to carry any operative who was injured, return their bodies and preserve some of their dignity given what they fought and died for. She walks backwards a couple steps, eyes on the Sarkhai, but then she turns and lowers her head to follow the path of escape. A nod and gentle grin shared with Sira.

--

Sira, glances back to Hadrix and Ben, <"I'll take rear guard... just in case."> Her eyes moving toward Rieve, noting the sling and giving a bit of a grunt in return. <"Yeah, I don't think the rest of your group fared so well."> She moves back a bit and to the side, giving Hadrix and Ben the chance to go first - able to help and cover the injured man - while Sira will take behind them. Turning her head enough for the helmet to pick up what's behind her when she's not keeping an eye on the spacing with those in front of her.

<"Well... Could've gone worse?"> Sira adds with a chuckle, because who doesn't like tempting fate when you're almost done with the job?

--

Ben rights himself, brushing his hands off. Not much more he can do here than keep an eye out, it seems. "Don't let it happen again," he tells the /real/ Hapan. Then he smirks as they start to move along, Ben getting his blaster out...just in case. "You look like shavit, by the way. Glad to know it's possible."

--

"You can remember them later, for now we need to get moving." A simple addition to the comments others are making regarding the rest of Rieve's team. A small nod to Runsa when she finishes handling negotiating with the local residents.

Though it doesn't seem to make him put his ax away. Or relax how he carries it.

Hadrix simply begins to head towards the dustoff, a look to Sira when she moves to watch their backs, having no more to say other than to at least acknowledge he heard her.

--

And out beyond the cordon the intrepid party is lead... lead by a shuffling pile of rags and rubbish, lead out into the darkness of a street from which the flashing lights of distant patrol grav-cars can just be made. And then? The homeless g=figure drifts away into the darkness, perhaps less impressively to those wearing night vision goggles... but either way, the cordoned off zone is behind them now, and soon enough so is Sarkhai.

--