"Sir, are you okay?"

Erid Tharr woke up to see Ricochet's face right above his. Ricochet had removed his helmet, and a look of concern and relief was on his face.

"Yes, I'm fine." Erid touched the back of his head and grimaced. "What about the rest of the people? And my son? Is Darit safe?"

"He's fine, Sir. We've taken a headcount. Still living, we have you, me, six troopers, one ARC, the pilot, and twelve refugees. I'm afraid we don't have a ship though." He paused. "The whole back half was blown off. We're stranded."

Erid sighed. "All right. If you can, I'd like you to compile a list of the names of everyone still living and what condition they are in. Then I'll talk to them and see if we can figure out where we are, who can do what, and if we will be rescued, or at least be able to survive."

"Yessir." Ricochet moved off.

The seven clones came over first. "Name?"

The ARC spoke. "G-45, Mett."

The pilot. "CT-6318/1198, Crash."

Each of the troopers. "CT-8135/4931, Raz."

"CT-3311/5192, Chaos."

"CT-7315/1316, Chip."

"CT-5423/9147, Proton."

"CT-2295/2538, Ion."

"Very good." Erid would have Ricochet form some sort of guard with them to protect their position. "You may go."

Erid interviewed the refugees, then talked with Ricochet. Together, they came up with a plan to defend themselves against any dangers that might come around. "We'll just sleep for tonight, and then tomorrow, we'll try to find out where we are. And see if we can get out of here."