[hr][b]Errol Vahn[/b]
[hr][b]// PRESENT DAY, OMEGA //[/b]

The fact she didn’t like the nickname “Stone Cold” was exactly why he would continue using it. To Errol there was no greater joy than the subtleties of a cringe or annoyance-filled sigh; such an exasperation was hilariously entertaining to him. Everybody seemed to have a reaction to his antics and preferences— something that always made the Dashers a lot more fun to be around then some of his previous contracted company in comparison. A groan or awkward chuckle was a bit more friendly than a “if you make one more quip I will make sure you never speak again”. It was good to be back with present company.

[color=gray][b]"So what's the plan? I'd kind of like to go get cleaned up before leaving not that getting cleaned up on Omega is easy."[/b][/color]

Errol let off another chuckle. “You do know there are facilities on whatever ship Declan has “acquired” that include hygiene, food, and rest. I doubt it will be that hard for you to get “cleaned” up.” 

His shit-eating grin didn’t leave his face as he ended his comment. But Errol wasn’t oblivious to what was going on around him as he caught the beeping of Declan’s omni-tool and the brief silence from his “commanding officer”. There were a number of things that could’ve meant but all and all he had to guess either they were meeting up with the others if their little bout got complicated or they were readying to leave Omega. Either option didn’t change much for the snarky marksman as he was ready to go pretty much anytime— he had all of his weapons and equipment on-hand and there was nothing really he had locked up in storage; least not on Omega of all places where there were about as many grifters, thieves, and hackers amongst the population as much as the Alliance Fleet was overpopulated. Besides Errol preferred traveling light.

“So where are we off to next, Dec?”