The feeling of victory of having survived the massive asteroid quickly wained when Macklyn realized how close he was to certain death.  His instincts took over and he managed to keep himself alive but suddenly he felt as if he'd had stared deeply into the void and it changed him in some way. He felt a tickle in this throat and his hands hurt.  He was probably gripping the yolk harder than he knew he could.  The Lancer was in a calm vector following the Fang as they approached the derelict ship and Macklyn allowed himself to relax his grip just enough to notice his hands were shaking.

[color=fff200]"Alright try to land in the aft end of the hanger, it looks like a bunch of the military transports are still docked there. We should be able to hide ourselves with them so when company arrives our ships don't stick out like a sore thumb and get dusted by whoever follows us. Or at the very least try not to blow anything up... " [/color] Sven's voice sounded stern over the Lancers comm. 

[color=ff8c00]"Oh... ya you got it' partn... ner"[/color] Macklyn's adrenaline was coursing and interrupted his own speech patterns. He cleared his throat. [color=ff8c00]"Copy, back of the hanger an' quiet like." [/color]

Slowly gliding through the hangar of the Balrog and looking for a place to touch down, Macklyn was deep in thought. Life back home in his war torn unnamed home planet, life was easy for him, all things considering. But out here, the stakes are high and people were relying on him.  There were more lives in his hands than just his own when operating on a team such as a Crimson Legion and he'd have to take a step back and consider his choices a little carefully going forward. [color=ff8c00] "Can't always shoot from the hip, boy. Sometimes you gotta line your irons b'fore to take the shot." [/color] Macklyn repeated to himself quietly these words he had once heard from an old Gunslinger back home.

The Lancer landed and Macklyn took notice of Silas floating near by. [color=ff8c00]"...shit"[/color] He took a deep breath, attached his portable source of air and opened the Lancers canopy.

[color=007236]"Thanks to your stunt plans have changed, me and you are going to restore power now hurry up and follow me."[/color]

Macklyn had nothing to say, he activated his grav boots, armed each hand with the Plasma Pistols and attempted to focus. He followed Silas after an affirming nod. The ship was a disaster and traversing the corridors of the Balrog was making Macklyn extremely anxious. 

[color=ff8c00]"Blood 'n no guts, Boss"[/color] mumbled Macklyn. No reply from Silas but Macklyn was too overwhelmed to wonder about his silence, besides silence of the derelict was too loud to recognize any other silence as it were. 

Finally Silas spoke [color=007236]"Any thoughts at what caused this?"[/color].

Macklyn was about to name a folklore monster he knew of as a kid to break the tension when Sven's voice chirped over suit comms informing them that there were ships on the way and made it a point to emphasis in such a way to point is voice at Macklyn.  There was no deny it. It was his fault the mission just got a lot more difficult.  

[color=ff8c00]"...shit"[/color] Macklyn whispered to himself again.  Silas just confirmed they were almost to the Generator room and Macklyn decided he'd face what's due him when the time comes. Right now was the time to focus up and keep the boss covered so they could get out of this horrible place before it's too late. For a moment he considered what he feared most: The bloody derelict, the fleet of people want'n to kill them... or facing Silas should they survive the first two horrors.