Despite the grim task ahead of them repairing the reeking filters, Kesper kept his good humor, taking off his headscarf and tying it around his nose and mouth without a word of complaint. He was no engineer, but he still had hands, and so helped Earrod where he could: handing over tools, holding the flashlight, and any other heavy lifting. All the while he psionically scanned their surroundings for threats, as far as he could without forcing it, and found none. Unless the wildlife started getting ideas.
Seeing Urien point out the hidden dish, Kesper chuckled ruefully and clapped a hand on Earrod's shoulder. "Looks like we've been made."
"We're safe for now," He called back to Urien, "There isn't anyone but us for a few kilometers. But I expect one or more ships to be en route as we speak."
Just as he moved to key his radio Mahan's report came through.
"Away Team to Base. You read my mind."
He allowed himself a little smirk at the private joke, a hint of bloodlust at the impending battle twisting his expression.