Paza led Brahl from detention back up to Corbin's quarters, filling him in on the mission as they went. "Hope you're ready for a walk through hell, big guy," the scout said as he opened the door. "Let's make a deal. I'll watch your front as long as you watch my back, deal?"
Rolling his head with a satisfied grunt, Brahl chuckled. "I've been through hell quite a few times." he said, eyes narrowing disdainfully. "Wasn't all it was chalked up to be." The towering Deetrit stooped low as the door to brief opened, allowing him to fit himself inside. With a wink and a fierce curvature of his wicked jaw, Brahl nodded to Paza, grasping the scout's hand in a brief shake. "Deal."
Standing back to his full height as he passed through the doorway, the Deetrit glanced around the room, taking in all of the new faces with an impassive sweep. An interesting array of individuals met his gaze, each with their own attitude and story to tell. He tipped his head to each in turn; his own silent way of greeting them all.
"Miss me much, Commander? Oh, and I think this," Paza jerked a thumb at Brahl, "belongs to you."
Crossing his arms, Brahl scoffed. "I belong to no one." He then loosened up, smiling at Corbin. "However, it's good to see you again. How's your rib holding up?" An apologetic expression adorned his face as he mentioned the injury he had inflicted.