[center][h1][color=#DAEE01][b]Salvator Rasch[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

Salvator processed the information given to him over comlink with a grim lack of enthusiasm, his lips pursing beneath his mask. Great. Wonderful. Entire platoons of heavily-armed boarders on the station. That explained the gunship support. At least there was the ethereal equivalent of a crisp breeze on the exterior of the Sargasso. So perhaps he and Alice would die refreshed, at least. 

Of course, he didn't let his doubts show in even his body language, staying alert and ready as they trudged through. That would be an idiotic waste of squad morale if he couldn't contain his opinions to his own inner monologue. At least Kleo wasn't taking the opportunity to start a fight [i]again[/i]. A few more of those, and it would have likely put Salvator into conniptions. The only saving grace on that front was that their support squad had someone equally as volatile, evidently. 

[color=#DAEE01][b][i]"Harvest, Rasch. We copy, appreciate the support in dodging those pirate elements. Continuing advance, over."[/i][/b][/color] He keyed into comms before looking around, nodding to Ilshar.

[color=#DAEE01][b]"I hear you. Agreed."[/b][/color] Salvator murmured as they proceeded forward, his carbine sweeping over anything that gave a hint of movement. [color=#DAEE01][b]"Squad, Rasch. Anything to report so far? Sounds like we got lucky evading entire platoons of upjumped pirates."[/b][/color]