The hangar was a cacophony of noise and at every perceivable frequency. Hectic yells as a group of raiders shot out to go try their luck on any targets of opportunity. The hiss of welding plates into place, set to the tune of a constant drone resonating from somewhere deep in the base's bowels. Things were lively, to say the least.
Cobra had only just landed, delayed by inbound freighters loaded with supplies and facing some manner of malfunction. But he was an easy man to spot, if not for his distinct face then clearly the hair. Seeing his "guest" on approach, he pulled the canopy open and waved in her direction. When spotted, he went through the motions of removing his helmet and stashed it away neatly. Looking up again just in time to greet Sarita with a polite nod. Naturally, it was going to take him a few more moments to unstrap and get out. But for now conversation and direct observation of the controls was possible. "Welcome to Ouray, the proper piece of it. I trust you didn't have any trouble getting here?" In a way he seemed genuinely concerned, but his exact motivations were not so easy to determine and perhaps not as straightforward as the question.
Soon after asking this, he noticed that he had been stricken with a severe case of helmet hair. Immediately resolving to fix that while first impressions were no doubt already being gleaned. Not only of the surroundings, but himself. And even if the opinions of a "genefreak" bothered him little, looking dishevelled evidently bothered him.
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