<hr/><strong>MedBay, Walter and Perkins with <em>Erich</em></strong><br/><hr/>Walter and Perkins exchanged a last look before they stood up and wished their old friend a speedy recovery. As they left the MedBay they stayed silent, Perkins putting the rejected cigar in his mouth and lighting it.<br/><br/>"You're not going to help in the MechBay, are you Kevin?"<br/><br/>Perkins scoffed and blew out a plume of smoke, gesturing with the cigar while a deep frown formed on his split face.<br/><br/>"You know me. I don't mix well with MechJocks. Besides I spend my due with the pilots, helping them with the ASF's..."<br/><br/>Walter looked over at Perkins a bit surprised. He had figured the old Dropper didn't like getting his hands dirty. Perhaps there was a side of the old man which only the flyers got to see. The continued down the corridors, Perkins' boots echoing on the grates while Walter's feet silently padded besides them.<br/><br/>"Perhaps I am too harsh. Haven't thought about it before. I was so busy being a replacement of Bones I forgot the sides that really made him a good Commander."<br/><br/>"No shit." Perkins grinned as he stopped, tapping the ashes of his cigar of the stem. "We all get a little blind, Walt. I could only think about the money after Bones bought it. To realize his dream of creating a company which could compete with Grayson and Wolf. We won't reach that height as long as those two are still alive, but we better be ready for it. Anyway, no matter how much I tried to equate every loss to a profit, there's two things that can't be flipped around. Lives and friendship, Walt. Both are unique. Nothing will ever come of it that is the same as Hiro or Yamina, or the deep feelings we had for Ol' Bones. Perhaps we should come closer to the crew, but I know I'd rather wrestle to the death with an Atlas barehanded than lift armor plates down in the bay. If they are so eager to be friends or enemies they can march into my office for once and have a cup of coffee over some negotiations."<br/><br/>"That's damned cold Perkins, even for you. What harm would it do to know the persons behind the profit?"<br/><br/>"Fuck, Walt, do you even know the name of one of my spacers or flyers? I know when their goddamn kids have their birthdays and almost shit a brick when I thought I might have to send that flyer's mother a letter after his ASF returned the same way Erich's bucket waltzed in here. Jarvis would have cried his eyes out if he had another wingman killed for your sake. Pull your head out of your armpit and go crawl around with your jocks and I'll keep to mine. Just remember, after Outreach they won't be your jocks anymore..."<br/><br/>Perkins snuffed the cigar on the wall and threw the stump away before marching off. Walter was left like a fool again. It was becoming a bad habit.<br/><br/><hr/>Janos wrapping things up in the MechBay and going to the mess hall.<br/><hr/>The engineer sucked on the hole where a tooth had been as he did some final calculations on paper, accounting for all the damage he had found underneath the skin of the Marauder. Finally he handed Graff the clipboard with a grin, the final estimated price underlined twice. It wasn't a pretty calculation, Perkins could probably buy a good light 'Mech for that amount.<br/><br/>"Just hand that to the paper-pushers and hope to Korvin that they have had a good day. But I reckon it's worth the price, Marauders work wonders after all. I gotta go, stomach screaming for sustenance and I don't think there is enough place in the bunks for all three of us to be rumbling around."<br/><br/>He flashed a smile to both Graff and Ranna before turning on his heel in a very Capellan fashion and stepping out of the bay. He had spent all too much time in there. He hadn't even eaten anything since he arrived on the JumpShip. Food for thought was all good and well, but the body had its needs as well. Perhaps the company even had some good provisions unlike what he had eaten the last couple of months. Rice, tofu and the occasional pork scraps mostly. His mouth began to water and he was so consumed by the thoughts of food that he almost collided with a doctor coming around the corner. Unlike most doctors he had ever met, she was a beauty. He smiled his usual crooked smile and tried not to show off too much of his irregular row of teeth, as well as trying to angle his face a little to the left. He had some sort of delusion that his scars didn't show off as much in that angle. Truth was it didn't really matter how much he angled it, unless he was turning her the back of his head it would be as prominent as always.<br/><br/>"Excuse me Doctor, I was being reckless. You don't happen to know where the mess is?"