Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
Stratton get your ass on shields, be quick!
Confused, Stratton momentarily took his eye off of the prisoner of war standing at their console in order to get a visual on Adira. To his surprise she wasn't severely injured and judging by her readings she wasn't oxygen-deprived either. She must've gone mental.
Cursing, muttering and grunting Stratton holstered his rifle and rushed up towards the shielding console. He stared at it with a puzzled look before looking up and setting his eyes on his captain. "You realize that the last time I handled anything larger than a dropship were decades ago, right?" He let off a nervous chuckle as he assumed control of the terminal. "Hell, I don't you had even been born yet at that point."
Whether he liked the orders or not Stratton would nonetheless obey the commands of his captain- because good soldiers follow orders. He cracked his neck and took a deep breath...