Fixer awoke inside a huge tool box. Surely making a re-entry at FSA could be considered troublesome to anyone with neck and bones. For him, it meant an impact so strong that his head had jumped off the electro-magnetic anchors over his shoulders. Headless, his body took a loooong moment looking for the missing part. A task difficulted enough because most sensors were still on the head. Finally, his second arm found the box, opened it and recovered his proudly-made-by-Baktoid head.

[b]"Alright might be a difficult question"[/b] the droid answered [b]"Just allow me a moment to see if anyone else has lost the head. Or torso. Or ze battery"[/b]

Once on his feet, he started looking around the place: the red liquid in that dar corner war coolant; the white devices similar to bones, mere leftovers from the kitchen, and... yes, that hand behind the ceiling was the spare hand he had lost a month ago. [i]"Letz zee... If I were a wanna be sailor and a walking armor... where would I be lying unconscious?"[/i]