[b][i]He looks up from his cybernetic legs, the ones he gained during the Tribal Wars, during the midst of the chaotic shitstorm that led so many brothers to fall. He bangs on the hull of his fighter another three times, takes a short pause, and rapidly bangs 5 times to around 4 beats, before testing his hands once more. It's a shock, hearing his military's anthem so far out in space to him, so much so that his free hand naturally rests on the handle of the middle revolver, the cybernetic arm seemingly holding an iron grip on the weapon laying at his hip. [/i][/b]