Kesper briefly made an appearance after landing, taking in the sights and fresh air, making a point to smile and wave at the swarming troops. However he felt only pity seeing the ramshackle defenses and nervous, ill equipped soldiers. Simple folks like the Borites should be tending their fields and seeing to their industry in peace, not cowering in fear of raiders.
Rather than step off the ship, Kesper turned to go back inside and poked around until he heard rumor of their newest passenger's whereabouts. Once he clapped eyes on the big man, he had to resist the urge to twist his expression into one of disgust. He could only hope that Rahne's theory that the man was a slave-soldier of the Glorious Empire was correct, as the thought that the utter mutilation he had endured was by choice filled Kesper with unutterable loathing. This appalling violation of self could be put to good use, if the man could be convinced to join them...even if the notion made him feel sick.
Burying his feelings for now, he casually sauntered in.
"Dazl? I'm Kesper. Got something for you."
Taking a seat next to the big man, he produced a mobile comm he took from the ship's stores and handed it over.
"It has a text-to-speech function, or you can just type if you prefer. Keep it."
With a smile, Kesper also showed a little tray carrying two short glasses filled with brown liquor that he got from the mess. Perks of being on a Drinaxi vessel, the good stuff was always on tap. He gave the man a glass, took his own and clinked it to Dazl's.
"To the fallen," He said, and punctuated it with a long sip, letting the liquor burn down his throat.
"Did you know them well?" He asked conversationally, nodding slightly toward the bodies of the Delta Vee's crew.