"And I pity the other guy when he finally is," Shephard mutters. He, for one, does not want to be anywhere near the wrong end of that sword.

Then he coughs, and draws himself up a little straighter. He's far from impressive right now himself, what with the infirmary recovery time in his immediate past. And the fact that even healed up by bug juice that stump of his still hurts like hell doesn't do his appearance any favors either. But he'll be damned if he lets that show any more than he absolutely has to. "I'll take your word for it, sir," he says. "That ain't my field, not by a long shot. I'm hopin' you'll be able to help me, regardless."