Russ slides silently through the jungle, his left hand resting on the hilt of his still sheathed vibroblade his right gripping his heavy blaster pistol. His eyes scan carefully the forest carefully as The Boss and Dredd take the lead moving swiftly towards their objective. His armour is already beginning to feel stifling in the oppressive heat trapped under the trees canopy, beads of sweat running down his pale flesh.

At the Boss's hand signal he moves smoothly and slowly to the ground, not letting sudden movements and noise give his position away. He presses himself down into the sodden soil, letting the dank earth smear across his silver armour. His eyes track the enemy party carefully as they come into view, his ears straining to overhear their conversation. 

He growls lowly as he overhears them talking in such a manner of slaughtering his comrades, the sound of his low animalistic growl echoing over Mynocks comms as the sub-vocal mic around his throat picks up the subtle vibrations. He slowly begins to slide his vibroblade from it's sheath as the enemy party draws closer, his pistol sliding into it's holster as he grips one of his plasma grenades.

He almost swears as one of the party ignites a gleaming saber, the mark of a jedi. Worthy opponents in a sea of sub-par warriors, one he has not been able to test his skills against in battle. He has only seen them from a distance as they tear into his comrades, and only a couple of times in his years of fighting this bloody war.

His sub-vocal mic picks up his barely whispered speech, the sound not even reaching two feet from his position. Using his greater distance from the enemy to broadcast a quick plan. "Roger that Boss. If we are discovered, I will disrupt the gunners with a grenade and then launch myself into close combat with the Jedi. Snowflake will most likely do the same. Focus fire on the gunners, wipe them out so we can all focus on the Jedi. Make it fast, i don't know how long i will last against them. Even with my Beskar blade. I have never had to deal with their magic in the flesh before."

His barely breathes as the enemy comes even closer, the glow from the lightsaber almost washing over their prone bodies. Not even daring to push himself further into the earth as the smallest hint of movement could give his position away. His hands sweating heavily inside his armoured gauntlets, gripping his weapons so tight his knuckles begin to whiten.