Lysia looks about the room as she slings the weapon over her shoulder. "Whoah, tough crowd." She smiles a little as she adjusts the red kercheif holding her hair back, then unzips the grubby blue coverall's she's wearing. A small label sewn in above the right chest pocket proudly proclaims, 'Mitch'. "So do we have a lift off schedule? I've got a letter I need to stick in the post but I don't want to do it until just before we go." She shrugs, "I hate confrontation." "Plus, the more time I have before we leave the more time I have to get myself properly sedated before this flying coffin leaves the ground." She shudders a bit and taps the bulkhead. Lysia David
