Being inside the ship was worse. Much worse. De'Ville kept a straight face, but her stomach was churning. Everything, from the lights to the wiring in the bulkheads, felt wrong. Her team had fanned out at Glayde's instruction, and they were causally watching the perimeter behind the rest of the group, keeping a clear way back into their shuttle should the Imperials decide to turn their attention to the Rebels rather than the alien ship.
"Notice anything, boss?" Lellan jerked his head toward where Glayde and the others from Novgorod were standing.
"Maybe," she replied cautiously, unwilling to be drawn into an obvious joke that she had yet again missed.
"They didn't send their A-team, not all of them anyway. And Captain Raurrrssath-whatever sent us, we're practically expendable in his eyes. Not his people, not his problem." His normally open face was all business.
De'Ville considered that. "While I'm sure the Captain has faith in our abilities, you're probably right. Is today a good day to die?"
Lellan grinned. "It's a good day for someone else to die." He stared meaningfully at the Imperials who were setting up sensory equipment, and some gun placements, no doubt to protect their shuttle but also conveniently almost in range of the Rebel's own ship. Just out of range, though, they were obviously just barely trying to play nice.
She signaled him to shut up, and they waited to see how the exploration teams were going to shake out.
