The docking procedure went smoothly enough, all things considered when 'smoothly' involves mating 3500 tons of fusion-powered steel egg to a half-kilometre long metal spindle that doubled as the solar system's largest PPC at any one time. Erich simply watched in the microgravity caused by the dropship thrusters matching the Jumpship's 'speed', before using his left hand to pull himself to the Docking collar's airlock, which joined the Bastion and the Citadel together with a hiss of recycled oxygen and inert gases. In Erich's case, Doc Gaius' claim that the anti-toxin cocktail would interfere, entertainingly, with his digestive tract had turned out to be a minor exaggeration, though he didn't doubt that someone physically smaller than him would be in all sorts of gastric distress as his stomach rumbled unhealthily at him; either way, he didn't have time to afford the luxury of feeling sick, and the stitching in his side was holding quite neatly.<br/><br/>A few moments later, the airlock cycled open, pulling the big soldier from his thoughts as he watched several techs moving in to feed diagnostic hookups to the junction box just past the airlock, before his eyes landed on Elisa, who looked like she had just arrived at the Docking collar from the jumpship's side. "Welcome back, Elisa. How was your temporary stint as a Jumpship Marine?"