"Yeah. I can do that." Rex swiftly moves over to the unconscious soldier, grimacing a little at his armour. It's shiny and white. It hasn't seen a day of combat in its life, and he can tell just by looking at it that it wouldn't hold up to the sort of combat his armour saw every day. It'll pain him to wear it, and it will worsen his shot - who the kriff designed those helmets? - but he can at least manage to keep up the act. Better still that nobody can see his face; even if he wasn't recognized as a clone, he's not a particularly skilled liar. He starts unstrapping it from the man with practiced ease, and strips off his own overclothes without any apparent sense of embarrassment or modesty. He's not shy about his own body, and he has a feeling that modesty isn't exactly on the Judge's shortlist of concerns right now either. The armour will be devilishly uncomfortable around certain bits without a proper bodysuit, but it's better than having excess fabric stick out of the joints.

"It's a 290-X light freighter. Landed here underneath priority protocol three-three-seven-five. Better to check, but considering everything was going to plan until you had a change of heart, I doubt they've caught on."

That's the kicker, isn't it? Not only did the Judge abandon ship, but she did so as one of the few real capable Imps he's met. Oh, they're good enough to catch him, but that doesn't speak that highly of them, not at the end of the day. All that power, and they used it to nullify their best soldiers, their finest negotiators, their most skilled strategists. He has to admit he's impressed by his new companion, despite the circumstances. She moves quick. He's going to have to keep up. The armour seals with a small hiss and he taps at the visor, fixing the HUD for best visibility.

"Lead the way, Judge Anderson."