Zwiche spent a restless night, wracked with guilt over the loss of Andrea. As the sun rises, he pushes his way out the small door and stretches to his full height, his joints popping as he shakes off what little sleep he achieved.
[Imperial] - "Well then, Captain, shall we see these associates of yours? I would find the Lady Halsey before she rots so much as to be unidentifiable."
[Imperial] - "Well then, Captain, shall we see these associates of yours? I would find the Lady Halsey before she rots so much as to be unidentifiable."