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

Not finding anything else of particular interest in the market, Gerad headed back to the ship and promptly disappeared into the ship’s machine shop to begin installing his new toy.

Absorbed as he was in his work, he barely paid any attention to what was going on around him, save when a harried looking Maklata tried to enter the machine shop. It hadn’t noticed him as it rushed in, and unfortunately, it jostled Gerad just as he was doing some fine tuning. He sent the little rat-like sapient running with a string on invectives that by all rights should have melted the decking.
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Now he ‘sat’ in the briefing room as Silas and their newest hire, Ducaelia, covered the mission brief. [colour=008000][i]Hmmm, ‘nother Vandrell;[/i][/colour] He thought, not for the first time. [colour=008000][i]Meyb’ [/i]THIS[i] one’ll let me take a peek at th’ tech…meyb’ ask after.[/i][/colour]

He’d only been partially listening to the brief, but when some of the words finally clicked, he let out a low whistle. [colour=008000]” ‘Pocalypse you say? Seen a bit on ‘em just ‘fore I mustered outta th’ Milita.”[/colour] He smiled a bit before rumbling with a small chuckle. [colour=008000]”Never got stompy wit’ ‘em m’self but I know they was pok’n ‘bout some o’ da solo systems to the Great Tribes ‘south’…last I heard Mr. Death there got his fingers burned ‘bout a year after I got out.”[/colour]