"You want to smoke, go right ahead." he replies, looking at each member of the group in turn. “Right. So, since the Inquisitor isn’t coming, I suppose I’d better let the Commissar know you’re here… sirs.” With that, he makes ready to leave, but as he turns, his crude cybernetic arm starts to shake and the attachments start spinning, swooshing, snapping, and make a terrible racket.<br/><br/>Raynard curses, runs his hand down the length of the metal rod, whispers a short prayer and pushes a button. Immediately, the device settles down. He starts heading off toward the hab-block. As he leaves, you hear muffled laughter coming from out of a nearby tent.<br/><br/>((Dingo - If you're trying to Intimidate the Sgt, I'll need a roll for that))