To say he was disappointed was an understatement, Krull really liked the sieges. In the end he was trapped in this democracy, an infernal invention, and was forced to go on the escort. As the Alamo entered the atmosphere Krull retreated into his room to make the proper rites for the coming battle. Armor plating, leather straps, scraps of paper baring war litanies, and a golden coin hidden underneath his facial wraps. Krull was ready.

His heavy foot steps joined the chorus as the group made their way to the transport ship. His disappointed formed a frown on his face, which must have looked like a sneer to anyone else as all the non-mercenaries kept him several arms lengths away. As the explosions rang throughout the air it lifted his spirits up and Krull became more receptive to his environment, listening to Johns words as they left his helmeted head. Krull gave a grunt and ran towards the transport, reaching it in no time flat. Once he entered the ship he began to map its interior in his head, always keeping an ear open for trouble as he explored.