Meeting Abroad

[AlphaWolf215]

The decrepit, old nephilim slowly made its way into the mooring position. The small pieces stuck just within the gravity shield being dragged alongside. As it sidled up, the mooring arms extended, locking onto the airlocks, the clamps lowering into position before a slight hiss could be heard. To those awaiting by the door, they found three men step out.

One, tall and built fairly large. "Worked out" could have been an understatement, yet looking into his eyes could show instantly that he cared for his own, and for those around him. The smile lines at the corners of his mouth and around his temples showed a warm, welcoming face, but it also appeared wisened, battle hardened. This, was Joseph Wolf. A battle hardened man, with the respect of his peers, standing in a type of advanced marine battle armour, with a type of "cape" draped from his shoulders. The armour looked more of an extension than a weapon or defence of any kind. Perhaps something he became accustomed to in his past.

Beside him sat a man in a wheelchair. His legs sat limply in the chair, but his hands where busy. Whilst they tinkered with different items, along with a rag and a trusty wrench, his eyes darted around, taking in every detail. It showed signs of a brilliant mind, proven to those few who knew him well.

Merely a few feet away was a Kusarian man, leaning lazily against the wall. Both of his hands in his pockets, while his gaze lazily wanders around the room. Not seeming to be in a hury. One may notice a pen in his right hand which he was spinning between his fingers, seeming to take comfort in any sort of movement. The expression perhaps pointing out that he'd rather be doing something else, rather than appearing and appealing to a group which he knew almost nothing about.

After checking all though, you notice the data-pad in Joseph's hand. from it is projected a pure black box, darker than the expanses of space itself, with a slight blue glow seen along the edges. It has six plain faces, all indifferent to each other. Slight parts of the conversation overheard would reveal its brilliance as an AI, but also the sarcasm that would break up such a tight knit crew, providing comic relief, bringing them all ever closer.

This was the crew of the Ares, and the gentlemen that had come for the help of Finn McCool, or perhaps his young assitant, Ms Rachael Winterton, who had been assigned to assist them.

He grabbed a deckhand:

Joseph: I'm here to speak to Miss Winterton, and please, have a beer ready for myself and McCool.. We have one hell of a lot of catching up to do...

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