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Razlo drifted a few feet above the floor of his dimly lit room, suspended in mid air. He kept the artificial gravity in his quarters toggled off as a matter of preference, it was easier on his body and he found it more convenient most of the time. At the moment he was occupying himself with taking inventory of his gizmos, figuring that the boss would have some work for them coming down the pipes soon. It took more than a little while to fit everything nice and neatly into their proper places.

Just as he was finishing his check over his gear, Orion's call went through the ship's speakers. [b]"Right Proper"[/b] Razlo muttered to himself with a sly grin as he grabbed hold of a railing and spun himself right side up. With a hand gesture he triggered the magnets on the soles of his boots, fastening him down to the cabin's floor with a metallic *clunk*. A few short steps took him to his door, where he lingered for just a short moment before sliding it open and pressing out into the hallway. He frowned as his body suddenly had weight again, shaking his head. Why the bloody ground-pounders were so enamored with it was beyond him.

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A short walk brought him to the control room and the awaiting team. Some of them he'd had the pleasure (or displeasure as the case occasionally was) of meeting, while a handful were new faces to him. More importantly though, it seemed like he was late. With a coy smile he held his hand up in a gesture of apology and bowed his head slightly but said nothing. After he'd gotten passed the faux pas of his entry, he ran his gaze over the new blood and found himself grinning like a fox in a hen house. He'd been in more or less the same circumstances only a few months ago, and that somehow struck him as highly entertaining. Now was not the time to mingle though, so he shut his gob and waited for Orion to start his explanation.