Trudy signaled a confirmation to the Captain and moved to a flanking position. She walked with care, trying to avoid the underbrush. She'd discarded her uniform for a plain white undershirt and fatigues - it was cooler as she tramped through the jungle, and Pandora had taught her that the more gear you were carrying, the faster you got tired.

Her shiny new sidearm was strapped to her hip, but the weapon in her hands was the GIA service rifle. It blew some beautiful holes in people and she was more than happy to use it. She pressed her comm. <<Captain, what's the word on use of lethal force? Are we still trying to make nice with the crazy natives, or can I shoot something?>>