Rene watched through the binoculars for several minutes. Finally a man, clearly Bouradine from the video they had seen, emerged from the treeline in the direction of the ruins. In his arms were bundled several strange looking stalks of a greenish brown root of some kind. The trader walked over to the millitary pod and then knelt down and began to peel the root with a small powered knife, he held each length over a small plastic bucket, allowing sap to drip from the root into the bucket before vanishing into the escape pod. Of Bel'sian there was no sign.

"Well we might not get a better chance," Rene said turning to regard his companions. For a moment he struggled with how to proceed balancing different skillsets and temperaments. 

"Rosaria, you are up front with me, Dasin and Yarue the two of you stay behind us and either side of Solae," Rene ordered. Rosaria smiled broadly, no doubt thinking that Rene's choice reflected confidence in her. Realistically he would rather have the girl running point beside him where she couldn't accidentally shoot him him in the back as keyed up as she was. Armed with the tranquilizer gun Solae had prepared, it wasn't going to be a problem if she accidentally shot Bouradine full of sedative and she was young and keyed up. That was the right type of person to have on point. Both of the Syshin were steadier by far, but their natural inclination would be not to shoot, which could be a problem if it really needed to be done. In some ways Solae would be a better choice for the lead, but if he put an Imperial Duchess on the point of an assault team a marine drill instructor would materialize from the ether and rip his intestines out on general principles.

"What are you smiling at?" Solae asked him with a cocked eyebrow. Rene forced the grin down with some difficutly.

"I was just thinking, that no class on small unit tactics I ever took involved deploying two Syshin, a teenage girl and a Sector Duchess," he admitted, feeling unexpectedly ebullient. 

"Alright, lets go."

They moved across the open grassland in a loose diamond formation. Rene and Rosaria at the front with Solae at the rear. They didn't quite move at a run, Rene didn't want to outdistance his companions, but it was a brisk jog. He resisted the urge to tell them to spread out and maintain their distance. It was a natural tendency of all groups in dangerous situation to close ranks, that had probably been a good move on the ancient savannah of Old Earth, but it was less so in the age of automatic weapons. Still this was no time for him to be teaching fire and manuever techniques. Bouradine had not emerged from the pod by the time they reached the camp. It was clearly improvised, built from supply crates which must have been stuffed into Bouradine's original pod. A catalytic cooker and some fold out chairs sat in a loose circle beside a trio of solar powered refrigerator/condenser units which held food and water. The short grass had been flattened in tracks that showed where foot traffic tended to occur, mostly between the two pods and with a third track leading away towards the ruins. Rene guestured to Rosaria to stick close to him and unslung his rifle, brining the stock to his shoulder as he approached the door of the pod. He held up three fingers, tapped his hand three times and then stepped through the door, still a heart beat ahead of Rosaria who, at least, didn't jostle him as he made his entry.

Inside the pod he found Bouradine crouched over a woman in Imperial Navy fatigues, the legs had been cut away and burns disfigured the woman's lower body. The trader looked up at them in frozen surprise, he had a sponge in his hand which he had clearly been using to bathe the awful burns that leaked sera and smelled faintly of suppuration. Bouradine's eyes were wide and shocked to be suddenly confronted by a soldier in battledress and a jumpy looking girl.

"Don't move," Rene instructed, not razing his voice to emphasize the threat of the barrel of his plasma rifle. Bouradine had a pistol on his hip, but it clearly hadn't even occurred to him to draw it until Rene spoke. The spacer moaned deliriously, clearly too out of it either because of infection or whatever analgesics she was being dosed with. The trader began to tremble in fear and the sponge fell from his hand.

"Who...who," he stammered.

"I'm Colonel Quentain of the Imperial Marines," Rene said, raising his elbow to gesture to Rosaria without moving the bore of his rifle so much as an inch.

"This is Rosaria, and both of us would like it very much if you would put that pistol on the ground and then kick it over towards us."