Francis stood in the airlock entry, waiting for it to cycle, when he noticed the pretty lady he had almost knocked over was waiting for it as well.  He waited for the doors to open and entered, speaking as he did.<br/><br/>"So, I guess that means you're a crewmember of the Castille as well?  Names Francis, Francis McHenry.  Pleased to meet ya!"  He stuck out his paw in a handshake, giving her his dopey smile and his big man frame twisted slightly to face her, all while trying to walk.  He was forced to stop and await the inner hatch to cycle, he wondered if it was a Model 43 or 44 hatch.  The 43 usually only took 5 seconds to cycle completely and was all around a better hatch.  He thought about the dark skinned goddess he had passed earlier and wondered what was hidden by her well cut dress.  Those hips and dat ass, he thought.  But then he thought of what weaponry the Castille might have aboard as he hadn't seen any outward signs of weapons, only battle damage.  What the blonde marine had said earlier brought her back to his mind, and he wondered if she danced horizontally as well as she did vertically.  Then he was reminded of the coolant he drank earlier, he was sure it was coolant, it had to be.  Regular alcohol takes a bit to have an effect as he could feel himself on the cusp of tipsiness.  But hopefully not enough to show.  He recalled that this woman had been at the bar as well. "Hey, do you know if that purple stuff is TA-4 Coolant?" he queried immediately after her response.