Zevion the tech-priest did not move, after recieving his data slate back. The hand holding it vanishing into his robes once more. Though as the captain offered a compramise, he bowed his head slightly, which was likely as far as the respirator's grill would allow.<i>"As you wish, so shall it be done."</i>And then stepping away, giving everyone without augmented hearing space to get closer to the conversation. He did not, however, so much as touch the offered drinks, nor look at the scandalous servitors...<br/><br/>He also seemed indifferent over the topic of where they were going, either that, or he was uniformly annoyed by everything and everyone around him. It was likely a close toss up or combination of both...<i>"So it is agreed, then?"</i>He spoke up, noting the general concensus of where they would go. He seemed to ignore Abida's protest of not having time to learn the ship, what ever verdict the lady D'crox had placed in his mind now set in stone.<i>"Shall I remove myself to insure the Engine's are ready, Captain?" </i>he asked, voice buzzing.<i>"Or shall I remain further?"</i>His skull servo, a flouting, cybernetically infused human skull, kept close orbit, though it's one mechanical eye constantly turned to regard Abida, spinal cord twitching slightly.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>