<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/07/Ares_Walker.png) </div><strong>Name:</strong>Ares Walker (http://elliquiy.com/wiki/Ares_Walker)<strong><br/>Location: </strong>Arriving by Turbolift<br/><strong>Time: </strong>Mid Morning<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Captain Lyra Core, Open<br/><br/>If Ares was overtly concerned at the result of his conversation with the Captain, it did not show. He was in fact, not. Military hierarchy was just another, more codified, form of bureaucracy to him. It was red tape that served a purpose - as all order did - but could be just as much a hindrance. Order in battle meant efficiency and flexibility. Otherwise it just meant caution and protocol. Those were things that he had little time for when it came to his work. And he had no qualms about her calling him 'Mr.'. She was the Captain, after all, and that was her prerogative. He had been a man slightly apart from Starfleet for years, and without his rank he was still be a brilliant, and eccentrically trained scientist. And rather handsome, in his own humble estimation.<br/><br/>`Take all the time you want to review, Captain. I am available any time.`<br/><br/>Sleep was something he did not actively avoid, but minimized.<br/><br/>As if picking up on the cue he was being cast aside, he turned and with little regard to anyone else on the bridge headed for the turbolift. While he had no intent on actually submitting to the poking and prodding of a doctor, or more annoyingly yet the probing questions of a counselor, he had a reason to head to sick bay.