Day and night really don't really matter when one is in space. Regardless, Deraen-Losthil-Oray's internal clock kept him on a fairly regular sleep schedule. When he did sleep, it wasn't for more than a few hours. In the back of his mind he knew it wasn't enough, although he had gotten into the habit of consuming the human-made caffeinated substance called coffee which seemed to counteract his lack of sleep. As it was, he'd already been awake for some time when John Mason emerged from his quarters. Deraen had been on the bridge sifting through data streams when the assignments from Starfire popped up on the screen he was using in rapid succession. He read each of them quickly, rejecting the guard duty mission right away. The choice between the siege and escort were a toss up. On the one hand, taking the fortress could have a huge political impact, but if the[i] Babylon IV[/i]'s Oppenheimium cargo was lost, it would be a serious blow to economic stability. As something of a businessperson himself, Deraen thought the wisest course of action would be to escort [i]Babylon[/i] to a safe port. He entered his vote for the escort mission into the computer. If the rest of the crew decided on a different course of action he wouldn't complain, as long as he got paid fairly for whatever job he performed. Even though his choice was obviously the best.

Logging out of the system, the Andalite decided to seek out John Mason, whom he believed was likeminded to him and would probably agree on his choice of assignment. On his way, Deraen paid a visit to his quarters to outfit himself for whatever the day might bring. He put on the X-shaped harness/holster, equipping it with a handheld shredder gun and a Beretta 92FS. The Beretta was a little heavy for his delicate hands but the fact that it was a projectile weapon with exceptionally accurate aim was appealing to him. He supposed if there was one good thing about humans constantly fighting one another, it was that they developed some very effective weapons. He added a few particle-disturbance grenades. In addition he belted on a pair of small saddle-bag like pouches that were already packed with various items that might be useful in the event of an emergency. Deraen did not anticipate they would have to deal with a close-combat situation but it was better to be prepared.

Thusly armed, he found John Mason in the galley. It never failed that when searching out a human, one should always go to its food source. They were highly predictable creatures in that way. John was standing near a viewing window, and while Deraen kept his face turned toward the man he rotated one stalk eye to see what he was gazing at out in space. The bodies and debris floating past were no surprise to the Andalite and the scene did not impact him emotionally. How could it? They were not his people and it was not his war they were fighting, and he was barely a hired soldier.

[color=6ecff6]<John Mason.> [/color]he said, projecting his voice into the other's mind, [color=6ecff6]<Have you read Starfire's assignments yet? There are three total, the second is the most noteworthy in my opinion.>[/color] The way he said--er, thought "my opinion" suggested that to have a different opinion would mean the dissenter was stupid.[color=6ecff6] <Protecting a shipment of Oppenheimium ore would have a much longer positive impact whereas the fortress on Teta would merely be a shift in political power; those happen all the time and there's no guarantee any lasting effects might be good. From a value perspective, both missions will yield similar gain to us.>[/color] Deraen's unearthly green eyes shifted from John to the window whilst his stalk eyes surveyed the rest of the galley behind him. Having finished explaining his position to John, it was as if he were no longer interested in the human, though he did listen just in case he decided to speak up. His thoughts were strategizing the best methods for escorting a trade ship through hostile space.