[center][h1][color=teal]Jericho Cross[/color][/h1][/center]

Jericho crossed his arms once on the bridge, noting that the only other person he was willing to dignify with additional thought right now was this Old Ben fellow. He seemed to be in his sixties, and considering how he held himself and moved, he was likely a seasoned fighter. Which meant he had lived to be rather old in a very, very dangerous profession. That implied either stupid amounts of luck, which Jericho doubted looking at the man, or he was [i]really[/i] good. If push came to shove, the bounty hunter mused, he would have to pull some real dirty fighting off to stand a snow balls chance in hell of coming out alive. In short, he was confident he could handle the rest of em, if it came down to it, but Old Ben would be tricky, at best. But, he cleared his mind of those thoughts as this ANDI popped in, the mysterious voice from before identifying itself as such, and the holo display giving a look over the mission, simplifying terms in his mind.

Storm the station, kill anything that is hostile, loot the place for anything related to the research, or was useful period, then put the place to the torch. Jericho smirked at the idea, the words smash and grab came to mind, and it seemed to fit. He couldn't say why, considering nothing of his past was available in his head, but the brief did not take long. The others seemed to scatter with their own questions and work to do in the next few hours, so while ANDI did eventually come over and elaborate on the situation on the space station, Jericho went to his quarters to find his gear. Sure enough, there seemed to be some body armor, which he went about putting on through innate muscle memory, and then he saw something that warmed his heart. A custom tooled, massive handcannon of a revolver. And a bunch of ammo, conveniently labeled as well, which he quickly loaded up and pocketed. He loaded his gun, spinning the chamber with an experienced hand and flicking it shut, loaded with six rather hefty looking anti personelle rounds. The wrist PDA was marked as a tracker, along with a bunch of tiny little chips. Pocketing those and locking the PDA onto his forearm, he pulled the sleeve of his jacket back down. He was fully armed.

Now, that left the obvious question. His past. Jericho figured he might as well see what that crapshoot of an AI, ANDI, had to say. [color=teal]"ANDI, request all available information on Jericho Cross."[/color] No nonesense, he had better things to do than play silly buggers with an AI. He would have to go to the armory and see what tools they had available, take stock, and arm up as necessary. He expected trouble, his gut told him to at any rate, and he would be ready. Whether that meant really, really big guns or enough explosives to take out a small planetoid. Time would tell which was more necessary.