Abran returned to the bridge, having donned a new set of robes. While there was a battle going on, he still had to look the part. Standing there in vomit soaked clothing would not represent his house. In the end, there was little he could do, as well. He was not a warrior, nor was he any better then a capable member of the ship at handling the guns. And he lacked the more... impressive capabilities some of his kindred developed for fleet conflicts.<br/><br/>He walked back onto the bridge, and nodded at the Trader, moving back and looking about sharply.<br/><br/>"Crewman, use the Auspex to obtain a better target lock for the fire."<br/><br/>His voice was controlled, the shakiness gone. He pointed one of the crewman to the Auspex. They needed to score a hit badly...<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Result: Tackyhillbilly rolled: 1d100<br/>Comment:<br/>Result: 68,<br/>Total: 68</div></div>