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Nick hated flying. It was one of those things; he had to do it, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He rationalized it by saying that being this close to all that incredibly flamable fuel made him uncomfortable, but it went deeper than that. To keep himself occupied, he produced a deck of cards and began playing patience, ignoring the activity around him as he tried to suppress his discomfort.

His eyes snapped up as the Valkyrie started making evasive manouveurs. Something was wrong. He was already halfway out of his seat when Daniel gave the order to bail out. As the glider carried him soundlessly downward, he could see the jet trails of a brace of lightning fighters closing on their stricken transport. He hoped the pilot would make it out in one piece.

He came in hard and had to run as he hit the ground to avoid going over - lucky for him he had come down in relatively open ground. With that thought, he mechanically packed away his glider and ran back towards the LZ, intending to check on the rest of the squad before they moved out. As he ran towards them in the half light, he almost tripped over the robed form of the Techno-Magos.

Nick was fascinated. He was familiar with bionics as replacements for damaged limbs - even artificial organs - but the extent of the modifications done to the Magos (or had he done them to himself?) were something else entirely. These were not battlefield prosthetics, they were designed to improve upon God's creation - he wondered if the Magos had ever thought about it in those terms, if he was aware of the blasphemy he had willingly become.

He realised he was staring.

"I ... I'm sorry. I didn't see you in the dark. I don't know much about bionics - are you..." he groped for a word that wouldn't be offensive "... functioning?"
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