<div class="floatright">(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y156/jillvader/mw-nmfkmpdamianharper_zpsbd84705d.jpg)</div><strong>Damian Harper (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=207352.msg10168756#msg10168756)</strong><br/><strong>Dark Star Dropship - Engineering</strong><br/><strong>Tagged: Allia Rowe</strong><br/><hr/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">A few hours had passed since his brief conversation with the captain. She had managed to persuade him that some time off was exactly what the company needed. It would also give them ample time to bolster the ranks with some fresh faces, who would hopefully come in time for them to enjoy themselves alongside the older members. He couldn't find fault in her reasoning, despite the fact that he never liked just sitting still and not doing anything particularly productive. It wasn't the clanner in him talking, as the Clans knew of the value of downtime to keep spirits up and make for a more tightly knit fighting force. He, himself, was simply a man who hadn't been capable of truly relaxing for many years now. He was always worried or fretting about something. He always found some work to get done. Anything to keep moving and not let the past settle upon him again. He had a tendency see his wife when that happened.<br/><br/>He had returned to his office in time to find a collection of reports waiting for him in the secure bin put up against the wall just next to the door. The engineers had finished some of the damage report already. It seemed his lectures on their inefficiency after the previous mission had made them fear his judgement once again. He tended to have to crack the whip from time to time to keep the crewmembers from becoming sloppy in their duties. As always, it hardly made him popular, but someone had to do it. It took him those few hours to sort through them and update the books accordingly. Now all that was necessary was to get the reports on the salvage operations.<br/><br/>Soon after, he already began feeling restless again. Looking over his shoulder, the stern tactician noticed the pad he had paused mid-game.<br/><strong>"Hm,"</strong> he almost scoffed at the idea of spending more hours just staring at a screen. Instead, he decided to do something uncommon for him: find some social interaction with no ulterior motive. Well, claiming the absence of an ulterior motive would be a blatant lie, as he knew exactly who to approach, and why.<br/><br/>Still clad in his leather jacket, which displayed the necessary symbols of his rank and position about the ship and within the company, Damian made his way down to engineering, as he knew he would be finding Allia there after any potentially stressful conversation. He couldn't imagine it being particularly easy to lecture Moshe the way she had likely been forced to, so it only made sense to find her there. Upon his arrival, Damian was forced to admit that he loved being right. The stern clanner was saluted by engineering staff he passed on his way over to where Allia was 'hammering' away at her impressive 'Mech. Their greetings were stiff and formal, as there was little love lost between him and those members of staff.<br/><strong>"Lieutenant Rowe,"</strong> he voiced as he stopped in front of the potent machine, his strong arms crossing over a fit chest, while amber hues settled upon whatever part of the young officer was visible. His tone of voice was the same one that always preempted a no-nonsense conversation topic. It was enough to cause most to roll their eyes in coming frustration, but there was no doubt about the fact that he always had something important to say, which gave them cause to listen, regardless. <strong>"I believe you owe me an elaboration on Moshe?"</strong> he finished, fully aware he may have just become the target of a thrown wrench. But he was prepared to dodge the projectile. Or try to.</div>