Maxwel stood ready for departure. They had got few more hours than he had anticipated. Apparently the ship had slowed down a good bit before the systems went offline. This was good, especially since the ship was clearly unknown to everyone, even Yamesh seemed to be confused about the vehicle. He felt slightly uncomfortable, facing an unknown enemy and/or technology was not the first thing he wanted to do, especially with no intel whatsoever. And that whisper he had heard, it was still haunting his head.

These troubling thoughs clearly did not disturb Max too much as he waited for orders, his gilded, engraved revolver spun and flipped on his hand, glimmering in the dim lights provided by the team's flashlights. He tossed it up a bit and caught again before continuing to spin it and flip every now and then. He was rather comfortable with his fatigues, but the helmet disturbed him slightly, mostly because it was brand new, never had he even seen such a thing before. However, it would have to do, most likely it would not blow up on his face. He tosses the revolver up one last time and let's it fall into it's holster before he lifted up his traditional P90 and made sure it was operational. Funny, if there would be no gravity inside that ship both of his weapons would be utterly useless and he'd have to rely on a knife instead should the need arise. The pilot he had assigned to take his place piloting the Lightyear while they were away had wondered why Maxwel insisted on tagging along. To him Max had simply stated that he was part of the team, but in his own head he knew too damn well that he was mainly after the alien vehicle. Maybe he'd get to fly it out of the way, should it be in a shape for such feat. maybe he could even fly it to their destination and back for inspection. Maybe. He glanced over to Cayne as he arrived and spoke out, personally he wished that everyone would hurry up too because well, he was not comfortable thinking about the slowly but surely approaching crash.