Longshot got to Mitts and looked at his battered armor. "I've got to stabilize Mitts," he said. "Give me a minute if you can."

Retrieving his medpak, he turned his attention to his squadmate. "Hold still; you're no good to us dead, y'know."

He figured that Mitts could imagine his fellow clone's smile through the implacable facade of his helmet.

Treat Injury:

Hammer walked over to stand next to Haywire while he worked on the trigger for their little surprise but watched up the lift to make sure that nothing came down from there to surprise them in return.  He hoped that the Commander would hurry up and deal with that thing he was following, sitting here was already making him chafe. He opened a direct comm channel to Martel.

"Sir, I know you want to take care of that thing, but we're going to have company really soon, we need to get moving."

Longshot's assist bestows the following:

DC 15 with a +2 equipment mod for using the medpac, gives him an 18 success. So, 11 hit points are restored.  

Updated Haywire for his use of det-cord and radio triggers 

Martel, I need a Perception DC 28. (That was a critical stealth roll by me)

---

Haywire rolled det-cord into tight balls about the size of his fist. He had also grabbed some nuts and bolts off of a maintenance tech's cart that had been left inside the cargo hold, and rolled the small metal shrapnel into his explosives. Once he had created enough to cover the entire area in front of the opening to the man-lift, he attached a small radio-remote trigger to each. The thumb trigger in his hand blinked red six times and then the light turned green, which told him they were live. He nodded to Hammer and backed away from the entrance.

While they had been busy, Longshot had pulled a medpac from his utility belt and began to aid Mitts. The troopers armor was badly scored from heat and had cracks in multiple places. He pulled the corpsman's helmet off and had him drink the pain-killer stimulant. It was a re-engineered bacta that worked internally and had had great success in keeping men alive and functioning in the field. Even as he consumed the liquid, Mitts felt his heart begin to race and his energy return. It would not close his wounds, but it would make it so he could move. Longshot daubed other healing agents directly on visible wounds he could see, checked Mitts for any broken bones, and then helped him to his feet. The team doctor smiled in appreciation, "I am okay, 'Shot. Let's get this done."

Hammer saw his tech-specialist nod and began to back away from the man-lift's entrance. As if on cue, long lengths of synthrope came down along with angry cries from above, "WE'RE COMING YOU REPUBLIC DOGS!"

"THINK YOU CAN TAKE OUR SHIP!"

"GONNA CRACK THOSE WHITE SHELLS YOU WEAR, AND EAT THE RAW MEAT INSIDE!"

BOOM-WHOOMF! Another explosion was heard from the deck far above.

 

Perception -  1d20+10 : 5 + 10, total 15

 

FP (just in case) -  2d6 : 2, 6, total 8

Martel's senses are reeling from the fight they just had and the toll the wound he's sustained.  "Sithspawn!" he cursed.  "Alright, on my way.  We'll see him again sooner than we'd hope, I'm sure."