Jyn covers her eyes with her arm as she feels the quake under her feet, anticipates the shower of coarse sand. After blinking to regain her balance and her awareness, she sees Freya and the men, lodged in the sand. She mutters a few choice words under her breath before calculating the odds - the best approach of getting them all out to safety while also avoiding death herself at the jaws of this creature.

They were tangled enough that Jyn could come in, stay on the defensive with her blaster, aid in digging them out. It would be close, she knows, but it should be enough. And those are better odds than she's used to.

She makes a mad dash towards the three of them, eyes oscillating between their wriggling bodies and the enraged heads remaining. She counts: four. There are four heads left; between she and Freya .. they should be able to secure a victory. As she reaches them, she falls to her knees and uses her momentum to slide herself forward in the sand, one hand furiously digging at the dune that trapped them, the other clutching her pistol.

One of the remaining heads rears, stretches open its jaws, and the heat of it makes Jyn squint, shield her face. She takes the opportunity to point her blaster directly into the back of the creature's throat and expel three quick shots in rapid succession - pew pew pew - causing the head to snap back, unable to screech properly, lifeless at the end of a rope-like neck.

"Three left," she says, finding Freya's gaze, continuing to dig them out.