[b]
Lázaro Ruiz
[/b]
As the exchanges between fellow pilots went on, Lázaro couldn't but bother than the cheap coffee he had pilfered didn't seem as appealing as the Holy Lady Jane and her husband that dude of Boston had arrived with Thermos to sate the thirsty. Seriously, why was that woman into the fighting pilot business? Wouldn't she be better flying as an NGO to bring hope to the despaired via airdrops. [i]Cheaters never prosper, I guess?[/i] He thought to find himself, a little pang of guilt as he took one of the thermos. There was also Wonder Blonde bringing some doughnuts. Odd, but adorable in the kind of way of an akward puppy way?

The less to say about Pukey Smokey the better. Who the hell had screened his candidacy? Well, a mystery unsolved. He shrugged his shoulders. The different personalities were showing. Some infuriatingly like the teacher's pet. Some raised concerns, he guessed. Fair. Some just... not caring about everything at all. Some lost. And Some eager to be proto-conspiracy nuts.

Eh, it beat being in a team of sadist murderers like the word mercenary carried usually. PMC was just whitewashing it.

"Gracias." He said to the couple, a wink of complicity. "You keep this up, I'm gonna steal your wife, Major Boston." He hushed a whisper as he took a stroll, as he sipped the fresh brain zapping black mana of the gods, eyeing the briefing with a somewhat bemused expression.

"Down, boy." He said to Mykhailo, sarcastically. "I appreciate your eagerness but... you know. Rome and the Cilicians. The Christian Kingdoms versus the Barbary pirates. History funnily, once again repeats. Whenever there's the wealth of Order and Civilization rising, somewhere else plunderers rise. Plunderers who are weaponized. Possibly by rivals. Eh, eventually we'll find out. No need to have such deep readings on so little info. We gotta be careful. Because for us it's stamping *rats* in the end, and we will be frowned upon failure. And for them, it might be the time of their lives." He pause. "Go go, fight the power." He added, raising a left fist on the air sarcastically.

He cleared his throat. "Shit, is this philosophy blend? Really nice brew." He looked at the thermo in a faux surprise look."But I'm wagging my tongue. It's been said we're not in the best situation. I do agree. These kind of folks do scurry around. We're going in an undermanned situation from the info, quite probably, and we don't really know what we're against. On first instance I'd suggest packing more cameras to catch who's stealing from the cookie jar. I would say intel is more valuable than kills right now."

He breathed."There's also some matter that I am a bit ...picky about. Well, I'm not sure about [i]mon capitaine[/i] but we're flying on the tried and tested [i]Mare Nostrum[/i], at least on my regard. Hot sea, Like an ocean in miniature, with their miniature hurricane like storms. Those things appear and vanish all of a sudden, being smaller than the oceanic storms, and can probably...well, it is not fun usually getting in the middle of one of those. I'd also ask to double check the meteorological conditions. We're not outside storm season." Lázaro kept on, sneaking a small snip at the furious tiny frenchwoman on a note taking frenzy.

"Although, if one of these suckers manages to hit while our friends are trying to do their piratey plundering, it migh cause enough disruption for us to capitalize. Since we got like, half of the mediterrean info on Weather Radar's worth, we can probably navigate around the hypothetical storm and use it as camouflage. It sounds insane. It is insane. But hell, if it makes the situation better, I'm up for storm riding." Lázaron concluded.

"Oh and one last thing. Can we get beach time in Malta after this? It's really nice, you know." He grinned.