[centre][h2][colour=008000][u]Gerad[/u][/colour][/h2][/centre]
[sub][centre][/centre][/sub]

Gerad’s lips pulled back in what, charitably, passed for a Garundin’s smile. [colour=008000][i]Bossman  got da rite think’n, tho if he say’n der be no time…hes no seen a Milita scavver on th’ bounce.[/i][/colour] He thought as Silas gave the go ahead for a little personal ‘salvage’ work.

[colour=008000]”Right Boss, get in git ‘er all warmed up. Looks like she be a bit bricked though”[/colour] He added indicating to the damaged sections of the ship. “[i]IF[/i], and dat a big ‘un, she still got leg, maybe we jus’ jump ‘er back to Solly space; dat said if she as cliff-fallen as she seem, I jus’ yank ‘puter core an’ give it to da Solly…mebe make copies an’ sell ‘em to Gal-Con an’ Tallos…” The last bit petered of as if he [i]might[/i] have been phrasing it as a question.
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Ten minutes later, he was aboard the [i]’Fang’[/i], standing in the isle as he couldn’t really use biped-style seats; mind you it wasn’t too great a hassle, he simply activated his armour’s mag-locks in his boot to ‘stick’ him to the decking, locked his armour in place, and then just let himself go limp inside the hardened shell…it was actually rather comfortable.

Still, even as he relaxed for the flight over, he was a bit keyed up. Out of the corner of one eye he watched Gaz and that ridiculous trash pile the green skin called a ‘Spacesuit’. [colour=008000][i]Sure he’ a big ‘un, an’ prob’ly right nasty in a fight; but ye can’t trust a Fungi as far as ye can shit…[/i][/colour] Any further pondering were interrupted by Silas taking bets. [colour=008000]”Got a split bet,”[/colour] Gerad pipped up. [colour=008000]”Fifty say de was work’n on some new type a fast-light, Hunne’d say stealth tech. Either way she be right busted.”[/colour]