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

Jericho carefully listened to the summery that ANDI provided, what little the AI could with its limited resources, at any rate. Bounty hunter, as the skills that he remembered seemed to indicate. Like he suspected, the only person who was likely going to give him a serious run for his money in the combat field was Old Ben, but apparently he was far more the hunter and tracker than merely additional muscle. Those tracking bugs made far more sense now, as did the ease of keeping the layout of the ship straight from the map. Would take a fast mind to get that straight in a hurry so he could track someone, so being able to do it makes sense.  However, he was curious of the rest of hte group's details, so as ANDI finished, he spoke up before heading out, pulling his duster firmly over his shoulders. [color=teal]"Understood. Request, when you can do a full search, compile dossiers on each member of this team, especially me, as well, discreetly mind you. No need to make this known to the others, it'll only create false impressions. History, skills, past affiliations, physical and psychological traumas, anything that I can use to compile a picture of these people. Knowing what I'm working with will make this already mess of a situation go smoother..."[/color]

Normally, Jericho felt at least, he might have been able to rely just on interactions and digging alone to get scraps of information that would help him compile a picture of these people, in a broad sense. But, with all their minds wiped, skill sets alone only provided so much of a picture. So, at the first chance he could get, he needed answers. About who he was in the past, and who he was dealing with. Sure, they seemed reasonable enough, but they could be a bunch of war criminals for all he knew. His was not a path to trust, especially when hunting people, he ill could afford letting trust get in the way of sound judgement. At least, that sounded right. But, as he had told the AI, discreet was the name of this game. No need to let on to the others he was planning on compiling as much information as he could, and using it to figure them out. It wouldn't look good, not that he felt that bothered him, but more importantly, it would make organizing them far easier.

Putting those thoughts in the back of his head, he took a few moments to strip down, remembering he still had the one piece stasis suit on underneath his clothes. Stripping that down, he made mental note of the rather unsettling amount of scar tissue he was carrying before redressing himself. Probably consequences of his past, whatever it might have been, and he kept that in mind as he more comfortably redressed himself. Now that was done with, kicking the one piece stasis suit off into the corner, he strode out of his rather spartan quarters. Not much that wasn't utilitarian or necessary was in that room, and it felt right. Some place to rest and sleep, and that was it. Making his way to the armory revealed that Old Ben and Rain had beat him here. Shocking, with enough sarcasm to drown a man, Jericho thought. But he nodded briefly, walking to a table and grabbing a rather asymmetrical looking rifle, and after looking at it for a few moments, deftly began checking the thing over. Seems, somewhere, he had handled something like this before, as he began doing inventory and checking the material condition of weapons and gear that were not already done, or in the process of. A sharp eye could see the antique style of six shooter on his hip, though the size would likely imply it was not just some relic of the past. He made very brief greeting, grunting out their names as he worked. [color=teal]"Rain, Ben."[/color]