Greyson gave a steep yawn as he managed to pull himself out of bed early that morning. The room didn't seem much larger than a cell, but the bunk was only uncomfortable at worst - it would still take some getting used to, all in all. He went though his mourning routine as quickly as he could afford, which now had to include him taking along his rifle and spare ammo for that. While he didn't shave too thoroughly anyway, Grey skipped out on that completely today, resulting in him seeming a bit more grizzly.

In the brief interval of time Greyson waited in the cafeteria, he ruminated over the plans laid down last night. Ultimately, even with the airship, some of the odds still seemed to be stacked against Renault. Blackbeard and his mates had a fairly large city to prance about in, and knowledge of all the places to look didn't always work so well in a practice like this. There was especially the idea that Renault would split away to deal with Blackbeard personally, essentially putting himself at great risk for a captain-to-captain struggle. Grey could only expect that something was going to come up, some fact or thing they couldn't anticipate that could turn the whole thing upside down. 

[color=darkkhaki][i]Why the hell are you even complaining? You're not even being dropped into the fray, you just get to sit in the ship while the gunner mow down the opposition. God knows you've wanted some medium of actual control for [b]years[/b] now.[/i][/color]

Grey shook his head to clear his thoughts as the captain made his announcements. He had to get through this day first before he could start moaning about it. This was a ship of dirty pirates, but as long as he was aboard, Grey had to fight for it. Surely, after this first mission, things would start looking up with the Crimson Dusicyon having a dedicated base.

As the briefing ended, the assembly dispersed, with crew either moving to man the ship's battle stations or to join the drop team. Grey followed the streaming trails of people out of the cafeteria, soon making his own way towards the bridge. Though something of an able sharpshooter, Greyson was primarily being trusted with navigation alongside Grissom. If anything happened to the Dusicyson, he was going to take the brunt of the blame, so it was important he tossed aside all bias for the next few hours. 

The mechanical glove moved his hand into a fist, tightening with a leathery crinkle. This wouldn't be the first time a ship was placed into his trust, but this would the time that truly mattered.