Tank's eyes snapped open as the attendant reached for him, but he only looked at her and winked so as not to scare her.  He knew he would survive a throat slash, that is what the armour was for, and medical attention was too close here anyway for it to be fatal.  She stopped and almost looked to panic, but quickly calmed as he did not move.  A small smile broke his face and she smiled back, grateful one of these soldiers was still human to some degree... if she only knew how human they all were, she would have wept at their pains.<br/><br/>He quietly stood and walked to the back to grab his gear, his hands passed over each of his team mates.  Close over Mea's sleeping head, barely over the seat above Marcus as he seemed to be collecting himself, Tank stopped for a second and placed his hand upon the man's shoulder for an instant, not quite a gentle squeeze, but friendly enough so as not to startle the man.  As he passed Gerad he clapped him in the back of the head in a brotherly fashion, Mea and Gerad were used to this by now, it was Tank's own way of letting them know he had them in his thoughts on mission, but not actually saying it.  He quickly re-checked his gear and returned to his seat, full battle-rattle and ready to rock.  He looked at the stewardess whom he was sure needed a valium after this flight and motioned to her, "Stewardess, I think their pillows were just too lumpy." he called back to her with a grin.