[center][h1][color=Firebrick]Q-T Brackman[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=Firebrick]”The heck was that?”[/color] Q-T asked as she stood up to try and look in the direction of the roar, only to be blocked out by the taller humans doing the same. She sighed, and then digitally pinged a seismic monitor attached to the rover, which gave her a fairly good read on the source of the disturbance, though not really anything about what it was about.

Either way, it pushed the lax attitude of the crews outside the tent back to work or at least alertness. The roar had made the recording of the dragons they had been watching far more real, and no-one wanted to be caught flat footed if one was on its way with the anger of that roar in its heart.

Conveniently this meant they also weren't caught flat footed when the captain exited and started giving orders. About forming an expedition to rescue a human adventuring party of all things. Oh, and also they were going to be riding to their rescue on dragon back, in order to save the native humans from another dragon. 

[color=Firebrick]”Ride the dragon… oh right the dropships are borked and we don't have much else goes fast except for”[/color] she rationalised as she glanced towards the jet bikes, and noted that the one she’d used to initially meet the dragons wasn’t sitting there anymore, and instead had its owner mounted in its saddle and raring to go.

“I’ll give you an escort, yeah?” Neilsy said, her eyes glittering at the prospect of racing the dragon.

“An escort needs to be able to actually provide support now, rather than be a liability like you and that sport bike’ll be,” Came the southern drawled words of the ranking security officer in the impromptu camp. Her name was Bonnie and she’d already been on her way before Q-T pinged her, because they only let people with their finger on the pulse of things onto the security team.

“Nah, see that’s where you’re wrong” Neilsy  retorted, fiddling around and then pulling out an equally sporty looking rail-rifle from a specialised compartment on the bike and hoisting it one handedly thanks to her suit “I’m fully qualified to use this, aaaand I’m one of the top 100 Bikathlon racers in the galaxy, thank you very much.”

[color=Firebrick]”You might need something bigger than that for this,”[/color] Q-T pointed out, not in the mind to trust that small arms were going to cut it vs a dragon if it came down to that. 

[color=Firebrick]”Speaking of gear, if we are riding the dr- if we are getting transported by Miss Galmira, then I insist everyone wears a grav-drop harness. We’ve got a few, should keep us on her back and they’ll also make sure if anyone falls, they'll have a soft descent.”[/color] Q-T insisted, slipping into an ‘Astronaut babysitting specialists with no space legs’ routine to handle the absurdity of the situation, before popping into one of the larger rovers and retrieving said gear.

She came out hauling two megafauna pacification devices, which looked like what you’d get  if a missile launcher and a harpoon gun had a baby. She had one held each of her upper sets of arms, leaving the bottom pair free for reloading using ammo which was magnetically attached to her body’s backpack like power supply or, in this moment, holding a bunch of harnesses covered in antigrav modules.

Highly adjustable, the harnesses easily fit over the armor of the small crew of security personnel  Bonnie had assembled for captain escort duty, who had self christened themselves ‘dragon-rider squad’, and it just as easily fit onto Q-T herself as well, despite her inhuman frame.

That left the last person left to get one who probably should not be coming but, well, orders where orders [color=Firebrick]”So… this is the point that some is supposed to insist you don't go because you're too valuable to risk, right?”[/color] Q-T felt she had to say to the captain as she offered her one of the harnesses, which got a chuckle from Bonnie and her team. The captain clearly had something of a reputation, at least among the security teams, for maybe not being the most personal-safety conscious person onboard the ship. 

As they did the other half of the rescue team/escort arrived, which was a small pack of jetbikes, lead by Riley, that fit somewhere between Nielsy’s bike and the captain’s bikes in terms of size and function, but these were all a lot more rugged, practical and standardized in appearance and make up when compared to those two machines.