When he had told them to get inside, Mez hadn't expected Hundred to come hurtling straight at him. The impact of their collision sent him cascading across the corridor and smashing into the wall. An audible [i]clang[/i] of metal rang out, echoing in both directions. That was sure to wake something up. As he regained his composure and returned to his feet, he let out a feral growl of displeasure. The metal flooring beneath where he had fallen remained scraped and dented but Mez was fine in comparison.

He was just brushing himself off when he turned a focused stare toward the Gygan, sizing her up. Despite the recent calamity, he didn't feel any ill will towards her simply annoyance. Though the look he received in return was just as predatory. Of the six of them on board the forgotten space hulk, he deemed her the most dangerous besides him. However, she also seemed the least likely to lash out in an angry manner. He supposed that's what made her one to watch. If she was going to do anything, it would most certainly be a well-calculated, premeditated attack. And if the pair of them came to blows, he wasn't entirely sure how he'd call the fight. Whilst he was extremely familiar and confident in his own strengths and abilities, the Gygan on the other hand remained somewhat of a mystery to him. Sure, she had displayed sufficient usage of her micro/nano-scale machinery she liked to call The Dust, but her actual fighting prowess had yet to be fully displayed. The droids from earlier were hardly a fight.

He mentally noted her down as a level 3. As he did so, three miniature stars appeared above her head. His optical implants came with a Combat Initiative Program that would identify threats, weaknesses and certain points of interest, as well as vitals and damage reports. Whilst it remained useless as a normal environment scanner, during the heat of combat or situations that presented a certain factor of danger towards his being, the program would display many useful pieces of information and data to help Mez to survive. Scanning the room, he looked at each of his so-called 'teammates', they were currently all identified as green. Anything new that moved would automatically be identified as red until established that it was not a threat. He had input suspected combat ratings of the other members of the mission back on board the shuttle, only now had he decided upon Hundred's.

He noted that Marga had managed to drag an injured Human through the door in time. It was Farvis - the man he had sworn to himself would die by his hand. He felt nothing for him now, even if he were on death's door, although he would have preferred to be the one to administer the killing blow. His former lover was growing increasingly more concerned with the man but Mez let it go, she was prone to becoming emotional during times like these. Instead of hovering over the man, he decided that he would look around the corridor in which they had managed to survive. He began an idle stroll to the left, keeping a single hand on his pistol and his other hand on his blade, ready for anything.