[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=a187be]Silvia Adenias[/color][/b][/i][/h1][/center][hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Tristan's Floor --> The MOR[/center][hr][hr]

	Silvia stepped into the elevator, turning around and leaning against the wall a bit as she fanned out her fingers; crossing her arms over her chest she let out a bit of a breath. Maybe Tristan wasn't as much of an idiot as she had hoped he was, or maybe he just knew better than to try to fight someone that actually knew how and could fight back. Reaching up she pushed her hair out of her face; tucking it behind her ear as Tom asked if she needed someone to come up from the infirmary. Perking a brow she looked down at her suit and grumbled under her breath. 

	Grasping the zipper at her neck she pulled it down and shoved back the fabric just enough to take a better look at the source of the blood. There were was bruised hand print clear as day on her pale skin and deep nail gouges in five places where she had been grabbed. Rolling her eyes, she zipped back up and shook her head. [color=a187be]"No, I should be fine. Might need a tetanus shot because of the fucker but other than that I'll be alright,"[/color] she said as she leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it went up to the top floor where the MOR was. She had received worse over the years working on Earth, the place was older, much older and a lot of things broken down. This was just a flesh wound in her mind and didn't need looking at. For a T1 though, it was an odd way to react to it, most would have pulled a [i]Tristan[/i] and acted like it was the end of the world. Silvia though wasn't a typical T1 in some ways. 

	Stepping out of the elevator she smirked a bit at her introduction. [color=a187be]"I will, thank you,"[/color] she said gratefully and sincerely as she stepped over to the Lead Chair and took a seat. Resting herself down and getting a feel for it for a moment before she started pointing at different members of the MOR's team and having them come over to her one at a time. Silvia was doing something that she did in every tower she had been in but something other T1's seemed to avoid. She was getting to know the staff. Asking them their names, how long they had been on shift, how long since they had had time off. She asked about their lives, their families, why they were at this tower, if they wanted to transfer off. Eventually asking for one of them to hand her a pencil and a piece of paper. Was she actually writing things down? Why not use a PDA or something to put down what she needed? 

	Craig perked an antenna before looking over towards Tom. "Well she is different," he said before leaning back in his seat. "The repairs are underway but this is what I need you to have a look at," he said as he pulled up the footage of the attack on Silvia. His lips thinned as he watched it again before stopping the replay once it got the point where Silvia chucked the pilot out of the ship. "The pilot is currently restricted to the ship only and the ship will be confiscated once the repairs are done. How do you want to handle this? Seems out new girl over there likes to handle matters herself but you are Head of Security. Do we want to handle this by the books? Or take a more hands on approach?" he asked as he rubbed the wiry hairs on his chin. 

[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b]Confiscated Ship[/b][/i][/h1][/center][hr][hr]  

	The pilot flopped down in his chair on the bridge, rubbing his chest where she had hit him with the ball of parts from his ship and narrowed his eyes. "Not the end of this," he muttered under his breath. Hearing things going on in his ship he stood up angrily and stormed through it to see what was going on. As he spotted people in his ship his eyes flared up a bit but at least they were getting repairs underway. The sooner they were done the better in his mind.

	"Hurry up, I want to get the fuck off his world," he spat as he walked by them and began to get his on world pack together. He wanted to head up to the commissary to get a meal and then head out to the nearest town to find some ways to release his anger and tension. Maybe find a nice girl, or a bad girl, didn't matter, a girl to make him forget that silver haired vixen who thought she was all that and then some. 

	Shoving clothing and some cred sticks into his bag he shouldered the bag and looked back at the repair crew. "Don't fuck anything up on my ship," he warned them before turning and heading for the exit he had been tossed out of earlier; it was time to get his drink on and figure out a way to make that woman pay for embarrassing him in front of people. No one got away with screwing with Ragari of Galaxia 7.