Garrick felt his thoughts suddenly disturbed. Like a pebble breaking the gentle flow of a stream. Garrick turned his head slightly to view the source of this disruption, but he already knew who it was. The young mercenary pilot from the hangar deck. Her tone was cold and as cutting as ever.<br/>Garrick moved the pipe to the corner of his mouth, continuing to puff on it, slowly and thoughtfully as he considered his from down the bridge of his nose. He honestly didn't have much choice, the collar made it difficult to move his neck into any other position but the "proper" one. But in this case he was glad of it.<br/>He wasn't to be coaxed into a fight, of words or otherwise. To lose control of ones emotions was not the way of a military officer. Especially an Imperial one.<br/>Yet Garrick had a feeling that if he didn't deal with this nuisance now, she would return to assail him again.<br/><br/><br/>"I'm skilled at a great many things, miss. As you no doubt will find out." Garrick grinned darkly as he curled his lips and blew a perfect ring of smoke towards the girl.  "I suspect the same came be said of you if the High Command saw fit to put you on its payrole."<br/>Garrick raised an eyebrow mischievously as he eyed the woman up and down.  "I daresay I can guess which set of skills landed you this job." His tone heavy and insinuating.<br/>"I only hope your as apt as a pilot."<br/>Garrick smirked.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>