<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b2/Redoveralls.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Bat-R-REE<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Eyeing a Loyalty Merit Badge, greedily<br/><strong>Location:</strong>B37 'Briefing Closet' -> B37(lots of numbers) Briefing Room<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Myst; OPEN<br/><hr/>Bat straightened as he exited the briefing closet, swiping globs of algae off his overalls and not even feeling bad about it.  Normally that sort of thing might have made him itch to punch someone.  (That was, admittedly, a persistent sort of itch he had and something of a default position.)  It was clear they had passed their troubleshooter entry exam in high style though, and he couldn’t help a grin as the sentry bot carried the bleating Infrared away, his mewling traitorous cries drowned out by the pleasing sounds of triumphant patriotism.<br/><br/>It was good day to be alive.<br/><br/>“One hundred credits, hot dog,” Bat mused while speculating just how excellent a loyalty merit badge would look adorning the collar of his overalls.  Between that and his bike it would be hard for any clone not to be impressed when he entered a room.  This was going even better than expected.<br/><br/>He glanced at his partner as she again cast aspersions on his bike and strangely didn’t feel the desire to sock her in the jaw.  This would have shocked his fellow Armored Bike Escorts and even he had trouble explaining it.  He decided it was because she had acted so quickly to apprehend the mop traitor, an impressive display of off-the-cuff troubleshooting, and that it had nothing at all to do with the way her chest mounds had felt when they’d rubbed across his face.  Why would it, after all?<br/><br/>“Erm, yeah, alright then,” he grumbled, grabbing the handlebars of his not-even-remotely-suspicious bicycle as he started off towards the designated briefing room.  “Lets get going.”<br/>