"If you're gonna be that friendly, we could always throw you back. Besides, you'd be too stringy for the cookpot. And it'd have been easier to let you roast in you're original container." He poked a thumb towards to wreck of the ship.
John looked from the cute blond that had spoken to him to the man with the ears and the lilting accent. He tilted his head a little as he gazed at the man, studying him quietly with curious, slightly suspicious, blue eyes. "I'm a very friendly guy when you get to know me, Mr. Man," he replied with a sardonic half-smile. "I'm the life of the party when you get a few drinks into me, so you'll have to pardon me if I'm not exactly in a chipper mood. Sudden decents into unknown territories sometimes does that to me, ya know?"
"The writing on it is basic English. I don't suppose NASA would be tracking you?" There wasn't much in the way of real hope there. Because some of the parts in the controls were NOT standard issue. "We're from a plane crash. According to the records we found we've been here a month, with no sign of rescue. So a nice NASA homing tranciever would be very good news."
John squinted over at the spacecraft and back at the man and shook his head a little, instantly regretting it when a wave of vertigo washed over him. He put a hand to the side of his head with a small groan. But damn he hated concussions. Somehow, he knew this wasn't his first one. He frowned a little and looked back up at the man. "NASA? I ... no ... I don't ... think so ..." letters floated in and out of his fuddled memory. "Not NASA ... something ... International ... something. Dammit, why the hell can't I remember anything?"
"Do you want me to take a look at that?"
John, still frowning as he tried to figure out what the hell the letters floating around inside his head meant, looked over at the one who had helped Aeryn. "What? Oh ... uh, yeah sure, I guess ... if you think you can do anything about it." Then, almost as an afterthought he added, "thanks."
[John]
John looked from the cute blond that had spoken to him to the man with the ears and the lilting accent. He tilted his head a little as he gazed at the man, studying him quietly with curious, slightly suspicious, blue eyes. "I'm a very friendly guy when you get to know me, Mr. Man," he replied with a sardonic half-smile. "I'm the life of the party when you get a few drinks into me, so you'll have to pardon me if I'm not exactly in a chipper mood. Sudden decents into unknown territories sometimes does that to me, ya know?"
"The writing on it is basic English. I don't suppose NASA would be tracking you?" There wasn't much in the way of real hope there. Because some of the parts in the controls were NOT standard issue. "We're from a plane crash. According to the records we found we've been here a month, with no sign of rescue. So a nice NASA homing tranciever would be very good news."
John squinted over at the spacecraft and back at the man and shook his head a little, instantly regretting it when a wave of vertigo washed over him. He put a hand to the side of his head with a small groan. But damn he hated concussions. Somehow, he knew this wasn't his first one. He frowned a little and looked back up at the man. "NASA? I ... no ... I don't ... think so ..." letters floated in and out of his fuddled memory. "Not NASA ... something ... International ... something. Dammit, why the hell can't I remember anything?"
"Do you want me to take a look at that?"
John, still frowning as he tried to figure out what the hell the letters floating around inside his head meant, looked over at the one who had helped Aeryn. "What? Oh ... uh, yeah sure, I guess ... if you think you can do anything about it." Then, almost as an afterthought he added, "thanks."