<hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Roland Brandt<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Lounge<br/><strong>Time (if Needed):</strong>(Post-Timeskip)-Afternoon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><hr/><br/>Roland had been no trouble for Eli to examine, and indeed made light conversation in the process, glad to be in the company of another ex-military type and to have a reliable physician to determine whether the radiation might've given him some new growths. He'd of course provided his name and any salient medical information, though dogtags would've done for some of it.<br/><br/>The scruffy former soldier gives a rolling shrug, and a surprisingly friendly smile, contrasting with some impressive scars and the way he stands, which suggests that he might be subject to an inspection by a barracks officer at any moment, as they settle in to recline and speak. "Reckon I might've had a bit of a rough time of it, ma'am, though I wouldn't call it the worst of m'life. Could tell ya some fucki-..." He pauses, attempting to self-censor and only getting it approximately right: "bloody...? Stories, about my days in the ISM. Ground Assault operations gets you in some deep shi-... I mean, isolated places, surrounded by much worse than radiation. I owe you for helpin' me out back there."<br/><br/>A firm nod to each of the crew present, with an expression that suggests he's keeping track of that debt and means to see it repaid. "Roland Brandt, at your service, former Lance Sergeant, Imperial Star Marines Ground Assault Division. Took up Free Trading after mustering out, had it pretty good 'til I wound up on that fucki-... Charmin'... Rock. Need to get in touch with some folks when possible, let 'em know I'm still kickin'."