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[right][hr][color=gray][b]Falcon's Reach | NC Labs[/b]
March 27th, 2677[/color][hr][/right]
[indent][color=AA8483]“We're here.”[/color]

Skarsgård moved forward, leading the group until they entered what appeared to be some kind of laboratory that looked like a rudimentary version of Dr. Lofgren’s own research center back in Smith’s Rest. Inside was only three people, two of which were seeming to be running basic diagnostics on the old hardware. The third was a man in a wheelchair with a soft expression and old gray-blue irises, it took him a full minute to register that people had come to see him. A nametag hung from his jacket.

[i]N. Voloshyna.[/i]

Skarsgård sighed, looking at the state of a man who used to be the most terrifying pilot in the Alaskan territories and the hero of Falcon's Reach a hundred times over. He was a shell of what he used to be, but after all the effects of piloting for over eight decades Skarsgård supposed that he was a product of a lifetime of abuse, struggle, and injuries. If it was twenty years ago, they wouldn’t have even needed help from one of their rival settlements. But Krane knew what had to be done and Skarsgård wasn’t privy to doubt him.

[color=AA8483]“Nikolai, the folks from Smith’s Rest want some information about the site. You’ve been there before.”[/color]

It was a full thirty seconds before the old pilot turned in his wheelchair to ‘inspect’ the people in front of him and reply. [color=897EA3]“Ah… I see. I’m not sure how I can help, but yes. What do you need from me?”[/color]

Skarsgård took his position against a nearby wall, foot pressed against the metal as he observed the conversation. He didn’t really have any input; at this point it was up to the people from Smith’s Rest to take lead. He still didn’t trust the whole situation Falcon’s Reach was put in, but there was little to be done. If Krane died and he was in charge of administrating the situation he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done differently. Smith’s Rest had become a force to be reckoned with – though they were abandoning their waster roots to accommodate corporate ideals. From the outside it looked like Celina Jackspar was trying to build herself up as a new CEO, but at the same time she wasn’t conquering anyone and was giving more aid to people that used to be her settlements rivals and enemies. Maybe the sleights Falcon’s Reach had suffered at the hands of Smith’s Rest was over and done with? What if it was water under the bridge? 

He considered the thought as the brown-haired member of the three pilots that stood beside the ginger and blonde stepped forward.
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