[center][h1][color=f9ad81][b]D E V R O N I A N   A R X[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

Dev gave a solemn nod. With Anderson gone, the demolitions specialist was an island socially. He wasn't exactly popular in any of the departments. Doing the sorts of things he had earned that mistrust. But the Loadmaster was in a similar boat. He was serving his sentence and trying to change to do some good. The topic of Anderson's daughter soured Dev's expression further. He leaned forward from his position to stare at the ground, his lips beginning to curl in anger. [color=f9ad81][i]The Council. They ordered the mission. They doomed him...[/i][/color]

At the sound of the Captain rummaging for something, Dev's face lit up. He rarely got the opportunity to drink, let alone drink anything worth savoring. The demolitions expert needed something to pull him out of this slump. Cards and Bourbon... that would do just the trick. He was the first to stand up, making sure his infamous weapon was secured to his side. [color=f9ad81]"It ain't about the practice, Cap'n. It's about Lady Luck, and nobody is in her favor like I am. She's the only reason I haven't blown any of my damn fingers off yet."[/color] He gave a wry smile as he wiggled his digits as he made the joke. Dev sidled up at the table next to the Captain, taking a seat to join in the action.