[h1][b][i][color=olivedrab][center]Ansgar Staudinger[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]

	"Medical attention? You've got dead and dying on your tables, worry about them first. Triage ain't a word for your kind?" Any electrical damage that had gotten through his protective clothing, possibly concussive as well given the explosions he'd been near recently, paled in comparison to the condition of those who actually needed help in here. That was his way of saying no, he wasn't submitting to medical fiddling until pretty much directly ordered to. Of course, things always could get worse as the fookin' tin man decided to show up right then and there and start mouthing off about not having any actual tin inside him. Wisely, the deadpan death glare that the man was giving the machine right now ceased that line of talking. He was distracted by Kev declaring that it was time for him to leave and go clean up his mess. His expression softened slightly, from completely pissed to moderately irritated, when the man joking addressed him.

	"You'll forgive me for not being in a joking mood, if any of those pirates are alive and I get my hands on them, I have every intent of beating them unconscious for every hour of work it takes fixing this ship. I won't have bastarding no lifes putting holes in m...our ship. I'll need a lot of drugs for that, to keep them alive, Doc. Also nothing for me, I have real work to do." There wasn't a joking tone in Ansgar's tone of voice right now, he was deathly serious that, he ever gets his hands on the pirates who attacked them, they'd be praying for a Judge to simply execute them. Having addressed the empty, hanging statement, he was paused by the Captain chiding him on being nice and reminding him that the tool mooching pink Ithlo was, apparently, going to fly them to the port. Well, he prayed to whatever God came through with them that [i]that[/i] would at least go well. 

	Imagine his shock when, of all people, Teg revived and was all but swarmed by both the captain and doc. The man stared and shook his head in low disbelief. Able to revive the dead, apparently, what a universe they found themselves in. "How about you get Teg a drink instead of swamping her after coming back from Mr. Grim's parlor? I'd offer something of my own stash, but....Oh. IF THOSE FUCKERS BROKE MY STASH, I SWEAR I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT THEM DOWN."

	The suddenly [i]royally[/i] irate mechanic bolted from the med bay, storming down the way towards the engine room, having seethed through gritted teeth and stormed into the engine room, all but radiating pure rage. He stomped back to a corner, grabbing a fallen plate that, well, should have been lifted using mechanical assistance to avoid possible personal injury, and with a groan it was hauled up and slammed to the side. After some digging and more cursing, he produced an undamaged bottle and sighed in relief before stashing it away and spinning on heel, grabbing his tools again and glaring at the pink Ithlo for a few moments.

	"Don't go fiddling with stuff outside that control panel, I won't have you shorting something out from not understanding the design layout." Despite the rather abruptness of the statement, anyone with a lick of social skills could see he was at least making the vague attempt to reign in his temper and general irritation when addressing Perse. He then, while the engines were going full blast, started clambering up into the guts of the engine itself, without the slightest regard for what was considered common safety practice to, well, shut down an engine or at least have it idling before crawling in to begin inspecting and applying repairs. But not Ansgar, oh no, he couldn't leave well enough alone even if it tried to bribe him.