"Merde," was Gerard's first word since he entered the limping Lincoln, the top of his cockpit finally unsealing and giving him a waft of the hangar air. The Marauder was in cood condition for once, despite being a close combat model. A few metal plates had come loose in the scrap and there was a distinct smell of tortured metal, but it was at least on once piece. He couldn't say the same for a lot of the hangar howerver as carasses of MASs were dragged to and fro. The Frenchman let out a deep breath. They had just fought near an entire coalition fleet, invaded a planet, destroyed a research facility, rescued their comrades and stolen an experimental machine. "Faire partie de la routine," he said quietly to himself as he sank deeper into his scarred leather seat. He needed a stiff drink and a good long rest. Now if only there were female company to go with it, but he would have to make do with what he had.

Climbing out of the cockpit, Gerard met up with his engineers and explained the situation, promptly cracking a joke about his lead's mother to some laughter. He noted that a few members were distinctly missing. He decided not to ask, for all their sakes. What had transpired during that time he and his team were planetside would be a mystery until they told him. And he would personally make sure that they were soused up enough to dull the pain. Looking away, he took in the environment. The distinct smell of munitions fire, actual fire and the sickly sweet stench of death permeated the air recyclers. Bloodstains ran rivulets between the plates and there were a few more...visceral items being cleaned up now in the form of black trash bags. A few lumps under torn and dirtied sheets could be made out in the corner and Gerard muttered a small prayer. He further spotted another familiar shape in the corner near them, voiding her most recent meal onto the tarnished metal plating. He locked eyes with Sokolov, who nodded and Astelion, who sneered and walked away.

Approaching Ari, Gerard spotted what had her near in the foetal position. One of the Lincoln's marines had been eviscerated, and his insides had been hastily stuffed back in before having a sheet pulled over him, which had folded back at some point in time. Gerard could already guess what was happening. Kneeling down over the marine, Gerard pulled the bloodstained sheet over the marine and sighed. Well. It wasn't part of his job description but he always ended up doing it anyway. Muttering another small prayer, he stood up and slowly began walking over to where Ari now sat, blankly staring into space.

"Those who go to war are want to know the risks involved, rookie, and what they are fighting for," Gerard said as he approached the girl, "that man knew what he was getting into, and he accepted it. He put his life on the line and he saved everyone else on the ship." Placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he sat down next to her and fumbled for his flask before he remembered that Trapp had taken it off of him. Well. At least he didn't know about the stash.