They had landed on some world, a dusty, bustling mess of a spaceport where they could refuel, resupply, and maybe, if everyone behaved, avoid any blaster fights. Everyone went their separate ways– he was fairly certain Omega went with Wrecker while Echo and Hunter stuck together. Like usual, he lingered near the ship. He'd had been with their newest crewmate– the one who had wormed their way into their hearts surprisingly quickly– until they decided to explore on their own. Tech stood outside, tapping away at his datapad after a frustrating argument with the overcharging dockyard owner. He glanced back after spotting movement in the corner of his eye, adjusting his goggles as he did.

It took a moment for the scene before him to register. But once the crimson staining their clothes hit him, Tech nearly dropped his datapad. Quickly shoving it back into his belt, he rushed forward, his voice a torrent of questions that tumbled out before he could reign them in. "What happened?" he asked, the urgency in his tone a stark contrast to his usual measured cadence. "Are you injured? How extensive is it? Where did you even–" The barrage of questions spilled out, logic momentarily overshadowed by a surge of protectiveness that surprised him.

He looked them over, trying to pinpoint any visible wounds. They were walking, somewhat, at least. The local medical facilities in the area were rudimentary at best, but that was irrelevant- he could do it. They had thankfully stocked up the medpacks recently. "We need to get you back on the ship," he stated definitively, glancing briefly at the ship behind him.