<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/ef/Damian_Harper.jpg)</div><strong>Damian Harper (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=207352.msg10168756#msg10168756)</strong><br/><strong>In the captured base</strong><br/><strong>Tagged: All</strong><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Santa Prisca Desert, Librios<br/>Deneb Algedi, Benjamin District<br/>Draconis Combine<br/>1 January 3145</strong><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">With the carnage of the day complete, Damian could smell the profit. Several of the 'Mechs they had taken down were still in rather good shape, or at least had valuable components and weapons that would need very little repairs to make serviceable. Moreover, the fact that the entire base, and its runways, had sustained next to no damage, meant there wouldn't be any unforeseen costs there either. He couldn't complain, as the books were certainly going to look nicely spiced by the end tally. That didn't mean he wasn't going to complain, however.<br/><br/>The clanner sighed softly and sat back in 'Mech's cockpit for a few moments as he let Charybdis' heat sinks take care of what his missiles had generated. Once he felt somewhat more comfortable, he began to make his way over to where the rest of the company was gathering. Charybdis was largely unscathed. Some superficial damage and a damaged Mech Mortar that wouldn't take too long to fix up. Its controls had felt somewhat sluggish in the desert environment, however, which caused the man some worry. The gears in his head never stopped turning, as there was always something; anything, on his mind. Once the sapphire 'Mech had reached Allia, Kari and Samson, he deactivated the systems and opened up the chest-oriented cockpit. He still wore the same coolant suit he always had during his days with clan Sea Fox; having taken it with him when he had departed. He had removed the insignias, however, leaving only a single emblem on the shoulder of Charybdis. Until he could return, he did not see the point of announcing his allegiance too loudly.<br/><br/>Clad from head-to-toe in the pilot suit, he rose up from his seat and planted a single boot on the edge. His eyes squinted as he looked over the salvage proceedings quietly, hearing the banter of the others to the side. Deft fingers reached for a bottle of water he kept stored away in a compartment inside of his cockpit. While the liquid was as warm as one would expect, it would still quench his thirst and cool his skin somewhat. He poured it over his face, hair and neck before downing most of the rest and tossing it back casually. He had sweat just as much as the others, yet he continually refused to take off his suit until they were back on the Dark Star, and even there he was rarely seen without his normal ensemble. He clapped his hands together slightly as he stayed near the captain and Allia; the motion intended to remove some grime and dust.<br/><br/><strong>"Our plan was just that good. And they were incompetent,"</strong> he proclaimed in answer to Allia's statement.<br/>He stopped beside his commander, his arms crossing over his chest as he kept his eyes on the salvage operation in the distance. <strong>"Made sure they'd prioritize the Calliope and Firestarter first. They're largely intact. I saw a lot of ammunition waste; however,"</strong> he commented with his usual, somewhat annoyed tone of voice. It was all too clear why most members of the company preferred to watch him leave rather than stay; when they didn't need his firepower of course...</div>