<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e4/Micah_Armstrong.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Micah Armstrong</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>1-5</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Xander R. Isley</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Talking to Xander</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/>Micah smiled to himself,<em>perfect,</em>He thought. "I'll keep that in mind." He said, giving him a wink. He stood up, walking across and pressing the door button. "Eats?" He said as they set off down the hall. "So what are you guys gonna be growing in that little forest down there?"<br/><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/90/Squadron_Leader._Jack_Monroe.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Jack Monroe</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>3-6</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Abigail "Abs" Carter. Juliet Franklin.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Going the get Julie and some lunch.</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><br/>Jack laughed flexing his arm out. "It still works, It's just a little stiff. Come on lets get going, I'll tell you on the way." They set out through the hab dome, Jack leading, opening the doors and hatches towards the main corridor as they approached the the mess hall. "I was a British fighter pilot during the Oil Wars... A pretty good one in fact." His countries descision to back the Arabs over their old colonial partners the Australians had been something of major contention. It was also the right thing to do, Australia being the aggressor nation. "It was my first ever taste of real combat. I took down 7 enemy fighters in two weeks. The morning of the third week I was shot down, covering the escape of a crippled allied aircraft... Apparently you can't take on 3 enemy fighters on your own at once... "Still got two of the bastards." He grinned. "Shrapnel from the missile that hit me tore the entire left half of my aircraft to pieces. If I had ejected a second later I'd be a very fine mist over the landscape." He grimaced, thinking about it. "I ended up in an infirmary for 6 months and a permanent life-long reminder. After that I was made a base adjutant while I recovered, the war already over. I got to go because I'm still the best damn pilot they could find, and I can run things too. Also helps I have a big shiny medal for gallantry under fire."