<div class="floatright">(http://cdn.madamenoire.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/adrien_brody_restaurant_001.jpg)</div><strong>Moshe Dayan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=207352.msg10191162#msg10191162)</strong><br/><strong>In the captured base.</strong><br/><strong>Tagged: Everyone</strong><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Santa Prisca Desert, Librios<br/>Deneb Algedi, Benjamin District<br/>Draconis Combine<br/>1 January 3145</strong><br/><br/>The quad trotted along at medium speed towards the base. Moshe felt a little sick. He had spent the last five minutes dragging the Sarath's giant paws along the sand and brush, trying to clean them of as good as he could. His hands were sticky with sweat but he could swear he could feel the smell of blood and charred flesh on them. Even with the worst grime and gore scraped off he knew he would have to spend hours cleaning out the claws and actuators of all kinds of... better not think about it now. There would be plenty of time for him to get sick later.<br/><br/>He closed in on the others who were already gathered around. There was a sting deep in his chest but he didn't really know why. Or perhaps he did know why. Adonai help him, the images of the downed blade flashed before him and he felt queasy again.<em>Shoots. Just calm down. Get yourself together. Faire la guerre and all that.</em>Still he couldn't shake it away. As he arrived at the others the Sarath hunched down like and obedient dog laying flat on the ground. He disconnected himself, almost ripping the neurohelmet and cooling vest. He was feeling suffocated, had to get out of the cockpit. Emerging didn't help at all, his nose being filled with that same charred smell he had just imagined before. He swung down from the low hanging head of S'hot, landed on weak legs and came down hard on one knee between its massive fore paws. He opened his mouth to give a feeble curse but no words came out.<br/><br/>He threw up.