[center][h2]”...Comes a Horseman…”[/h2][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PlUebtB.jpg[/img] [/center] If Yuri had to guess, the stranger now before him might hail from any planet which relied upon skilled use of a saddle to get about. [i]Cattle drover[/i] was the first impression cast by the duster coat and a well used pair of leather chaps. The weapons, however, suggested a different profession. [i]Bounty hunter?[/i] He laid the question aside to respond to the man’s greeting. “She’s a Class Three, alright,” he answered. [b][i]"This might actually be the first ship I've seen today that don't look like it'll lose half it's passengers out the side breaking for the black. Pilot could use a stick on the back of their knuckles though. No offense intended, but jus' cause she's built like a brick don't mean you can handle her like a brick without the wear and tear on those engines."[/i][/b] “Or her hydraulics,” Yuri’s mechanic side blurted, before his better sense caught himself short of rattling off an account of China Doll’s near disastrous liftoff from Greenleaf. Fortunately, the stranger didn’t allow any air in the conversation, artfully deploying a rapid segue and a friendly lift of his hat. [i][b] "I'm sorry, here I am spoutin’ the negative when I haven't even told you mah name. Tommy. Tommy Pearson, bit of an amateur ship enthusiast and a reasonably talented pilot. Just ask me how talented, I'll tell ya."[/b][/i] The palm of Pearson’s hand was hard callus. Until he voiced claim of piloting skills, Yuri would’ve sworn that any ride this hard bitten stranger undertook was designed to last eight seconds. As the men shook hands, he replied “Yuri Antonov, first mate of the China Doll. And I’m asking.” He released his grip, the free hand moving to pull the clipboard he’d tucked beneath the cast on his left arm. He held it at his side, ready to prop open if their conversation bore fruit. “You’re a pilot?” the first mate casually asked as he tilted his head toward the boat. “Got any hours in one of these?”