Erich, long having tolerated even the worst excesses of Lyran 'Social Generals' back when he was still in the Armed Forces, didn't even bat an eye at the attempt to put him on the back foot in regards to the negotiations. Officially ranked as a Major within the Mercenary unit, he simply wore a Lyran-cut uniform with no rank insignia on his shoulders; instead, he bore the five ranks of campaign ribbons and medals as testament to what any mercenary with more than two brain cells to rub together respected; Skill, and the years of experience needed to stay alive while exhibiting said skill.<br/><br/>The massive four-shot revolver hanging from his belt was what mercs with less than two brain cells respected; the Mantis Industries Hand Cannon was aptly named, as the pistol fired 12-gauge magnum shotgun slugs, instead of pistol-calibre bullets. A half-dozen reloads suggested that he was either planning on hunting<em>Banth</em>later, or he was not very inclined to be polite to the pointy-headed fop he found himself sitting across from at the negotiation table. "Water, please. As for what I bring to the Negotiation table, battlefield salvage of advanced combat armour, for infantry, that can laugh off a PPC shot. This includes several tons worth of salvageable battle armour pieces, including at least one working weapon, and schematics of said salvage."<br/><br/>The big veteran remained completely impassive, though his voice couldn't help but show a faint hint of pride in the claim. "Oh, I'm not lying when I say that it was tough enough to laugh off a PPC blast; I have the BattleROM to prove it."