"You heard the man, stage the wounded for loading first, then grab what isn't bolted down." hollered Besk, even as one of the troopers got the damned speeder truck and got it there in pretty short order. You learned to load fast when you worked on a ship like the Intruder, because loot was a thing, but so was the element of time.

"Help each other, it goes faster when it's all a unit effort!" he called out again, as the troopers started to line up the stuff and get it aboard the truck. Meanwhile, Besk picked over the enemy dead for weapons, power packs and any electronic equipment that looked like it was worth something. Mixed bag of the common and the less common, because bounty hunters were individual, as opposed to looting some sort of Compforce unit of their supplies. If it wasn't worth keeping, it was worth selling or scrapping for parts, because it was going to be a long war after all.

They had to get the wounded on board first, and the couple that bought it because the simple truth was that if the Empire cross referenced anyone in a database and they came up as 'rebels' they were done for. The hack team wore hats with brims to make identification harder, and that's why the new guys were forced to do it too. It was a rule of thumb when operating on a planet with a surveillance net -- hats, goggles...hell, he'd grown a beard for a reason in the Uslam days. The new recruits, the ones that just did the Alliance's various (and varying in quality) basic training programs didn't ever quite get it until it was explained and then they did an 'oh-ah' moment of realization.

Some of them were worried about going through the dead, but Besk wasn't too fazed by it; whoever this guy was, he had creds on him. He grabbed the case and threw it into the passenger side of the truck's cab, even as he grabbed on with one hand and pounded the door with the other, three times, indicating 'Go!' to the driver. When they got the truck up the ramp and into the shuttle, he called out to the lieutenant, even as he hopped down and started securing the truck to the deck with cables and hooks.

"Someone ought to tell that space slug to stop crying, we still have his merchandise and it's loaded. But don't tell him we just found his contact's funds. He doesn't need to know that," he told the LT, with a wink, "Full report later."