Almost feels like home.

[Richard]

Richard entered the weapons room. This place was a mess. He started throwing out all the stuff that had been in there. Then, he started to recalibrate everything. Who operated this thing before him? The guy had to be completely incompetent about how this thing works. He had almost finished with the calibrations when he looked at what weapons he was going to be looking over. What are these things?

He saw that he had to main guns and some side guns, but the type was modified to a different degree than anything he had ever seen. He really hoped that they were not going to be in a fight very soon or else this ship would be hammered. Richard needed time to learn what these things could do. He pulled out the long forgotten manual and sat down to read.

He was completely done with fixing everything when he saw an extra door in the room. He opened the door and found a stash of weapons. He took his pick of his favorites, which were two handguns, a shotgun, some knives, and a bow with arrows that had energy tips. He was about to leave when he saw someone at the door.

[Angel]

Not much was going on the Bridge, just the quiet murmur of crew members working at their stations. Greg kicked back from his chair and computer, rubbing his temples. He had given the order to start heading towards Bitumen to sell off their loot. While they had been haunting some of the far out shipping lanes between Mid-Ring planets, Greg still didn't feel comfortable dropping by any of them. Earthfall had stepped up security on many planets, and this wasn't a very convenient time to be caught. Not with a UIF officer lounging in the Laika's brig. The journey would take a few weeks, and until then Greg had to quell the discontent much of his crew was feeling. A large chunk of them wanted to scout out their home planets and see the damage. Greg didn't feel it was a good idea.

Slipping out from his chair, he gave a wave to Astor and headed to the Weapons Control room. At the moment, there wasn't enough crew to constantly fill in the room and so it was usually abandoned. The small storage room inside of it was being used to store the overflow of weapons he had stolen from a previous prize ship, and he was heading there to replace his personal gun--the weapon had disappeared somewhere within the recesses of his quarters, and he didn't have the time to go shifting through massive mounds of paperwork to find it.

The door to the Weapons Control slid open with a silent hiss, and Greg took two steps forward before realizing a man was in there. Not only that, but he had a cluster of weapons in his arms. Greg stood in the doorway, his eyebrows drawn up. "What are you doing?"

[Richard]

"Hello, Captain. I was just fixing reorganizing my workspace," Richard replied. "Hope that's okay." He had completely forgot to ask the captain if that was okay. Nice way to start off, he thought. He noticed the captain's empty holster. "If your looking for a new sidearm, try the third shelf in the closet. I think there is one that you might like."

Richard went and sat down in a chair there. He was checking the weapons that he took. Not bad, he thought. He could get used to the idea of having this much fire power at his disposal.

[Daxen]

The door hissed open again, and Daxen walked right into Greg, letting out an, "Oof! Er...s-sorry, wasn't...wasn't paying attention I-I guess." He walked around the man and looked around, muttering to himself, "Now...what was I going in here for again?" Despite Daxen's memory loss, he actually did have a reason for coming here (which would count as a miracle).

Several weeks of being on this ship have taught him one thing: Many of these people simply aren't nice. And what with his shadow conspiring against him, he needed all the protection he could get. He wasn't much of a marksman, but he hoped it would at least look intimidating enough. 'Course, a shy, hoodied young man with a gun is less intimidating and more out-of-place.

Finally remembering what he came here to do, he started to browse the shelves, completely oblivious to the two others in the room.

[Richard]

Richard heard the door open and someone apologize to the captain for something. He wasn't particularly interested until the guy said he was looking for something. Those words got Richard's attention, since that meant he would be looking around the now clean room.

Richard turned to the new person in the room. He watched him look through the weapons stash in the closet. Richard got up and walked over to this guy. He tapped the new guy on the shoulder and asked, "Two questions: Who are you and is there anything I can help you with?" He did not want to have to clean up this room again. It was hard enough the first time.

[Daxen]

Daxen jumped about a foot in the air at the shoulder-tap, and he whirled around with a look of utter shock that someone else was here and talking to him. Worried that he wasn't where he was supposed to be, he stammered, "U-Uhh...I-I-I was just l-looking for something to d-d-defend myself with? I'm not v-very strong so...I....y'know..."

Almost forgetting the first question, he quickly added, "And my n-name's Daxen, I'm just...a passenger, I guess. I don't really kn-know anything about weaponry, I was just looking. Am I n-not supposed to be here?" Poor guy, ever since he wandered onto the Laika he's felt like he's been nothing but trouble.

[Richard]

Richard felt bad for Daxen. He thought that Daxen was going to wet himself when Richard had tapped his shoulder. "Hello Daxen. Sorry for startling you, but I just wanted to see if I could be of some assistance." Richard contemplated what he said about needing to defend himself. The guy said he didn't know much about weaponry, so giving him a gun would be a bad idea.

"Have you ever handled any type of weapon before?" If the answer was yes, then Richard could help the guy out, but if it was no then he would have to tell Daxen that it was probably not a good idea to start carrying a weapon that he couldn't use. "By the way, my name is Richard."

[Angel]

"Ahh," Greg muttered, glancing towards the shelf Richard had pointed out. "Carry on then." As he was ready to scour the shelves, somebody bumped into him from behind. He turned in irritation to catch sight of Daxen brushing past him, and raised both eyebrows. The room had heavy traffic, apparently. "I'd think to watch it next time, friend." The Laika had a tendency to attract some strange folk at times, but more likely than not you'd run into someone dangerous and in a grouchy mood.

As Richard attended to Daxen, Greg began browsing the shelf for something usable. The past man who'd worked here had fallen ill and died enroute to a planet, and most of his work was dumped in an unorganized mess. Despite that, Greg found what he was looking for. Polishing his palm against its side, he turned it over from side to side before holstering it. He glanced over at Richard, busy with Daxen. A passenger?

"Daxen, was it?" He took a step forward, eyes fixed on Daxen, attempting to recognize him. "Just out of a bit of curiosity, if you don't mind. What sort of job do you do aboard my ship?"

[Daxen]

Daxen recalled back to his time on his home planet, "Well...it was really peaceful where I lived...so I guess I've never held a real weapon before." His mind wandered to this one time where he interned at at a zoo and had to use a long staff to keep some of the more dangerous animals in check. Unfortunately he was fired after two weeks due to him spacing out and nearly causing a guest to get mauled to death. He figured it wouldn't be wise to discuss his attention deficits and went on, "I d-don't really think I'd do well with a gun; I'm a lousy shot. So I w-was thinking mo--"

He was interrupted by the captain's remark and froze. He was too afraid to ask to be let off the ship, worried that he'd have to find some way to pay, and there haven't been any opportunities yet to simply sneak off. He didn't think Greg would buy his 'wandered onto it without thinking' story, even though it was true.

Lamenting his lack of luck, he stuttered, "W-W-Well I haven't r-really d-done anything B-B-B-BUT uh I think I can u-uh find s-s-s-something? R-really all I-I've been d-doing is w-wandering PLEASEDON'TJETTISONME!" The poor guy looked at the ground shamefully, knowing he was bound to be in serious doo-doo. He gave a quick, scathing glare at his own shadow, as if blaming it for his predicament.

In truth, Daxen really has barely any recollection of how he got on the Laika. He assumed that, while wandering around after being fired from another job, he had smelled the scent of food being loaded on and simply followed his nose. Of course, even grub cannot keep Daxen's attention for long, and he soon found himself on a strange ship with scary people.

[Richard]

Richard leaned back against the wall as Daxen started to explain that he had no experience with a gun. At least that made it easier on Richard with picking his weapon out. Daxen was about to suggest something when the Captain asked Daxen what his job was. Daxen looked scared out of his mind as he said nothing and started to stutter an excuse of some sort. Richard felt pity for the guy.

"So you don't have a job? I guess I could use some help with cataloging the weapons and cleaning up the rest of this room. If you don't mind Captain, Daxen could be my assistant." Richard did not know why he had suggested it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Richard stared at the Captain. "And while he is here, I can teach him how to properly handle a gun so that he doesn't shoot himself.

Richard waited for the Captain to answer, while he planned what weapon to start Daxen out with until he learned to handle a gun without setting it off by accident.

[Angel]

The guy started stuttering in fear, and Greg listened impassively with a frown. He wasn't against taking in a variety of people with a mixture of backgrounds, but he wasn't very fond of stowaways. It had a tendency to happen when they dropped loot off on the Mid-Ring planets, where the younger ones were bound to try and runaway by sneaking aboard other ships. It was easy to lose track of faces on a ship the Laika's size, and so Greg had dealt with the issue frequently enough. Most people didn't know what they were getting into when they wandered aboard the pirate ship.

Greg mulled over Richard's suggestion for a moment, eyes shifting between the two men. "If you'll take him, then, and pay part of his salary with your own. I think that'd be fair. I'm not too keen on handing out my hard-earned money to stowaways." His gaze settled on Daxen. "And, of course, if you'll work for him. Otherwise," The Captain shrugged, not finishing his sentence. There was a myriad of different ways to dealing with stowaways. It usually depended on the relative distance to the nearest planet and Greg's mood. Luckily for Daxen, they were on their way to an Outer-Ring planet as they spoke.

[Daxen]

Daxen was hesitant. It was one thing to be inattentive with a simple job like cooking; the worst you could do was start a small fire or cut off a finger. But leaving him to work around weapons? Still, he didn't want to know the end of Greg's sentence so he just smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"Um...I g-guess I could...I'm good at cataloging things." He knew that didn't amount for much (anyone can count) but he felt that it would be good enough closure. He eventually stopped paying attention to the two men as he mulled over his fate. This was going to be...interesting. His shadow gave a slight shimmer, though it's likely to have gone unnoticed.

[Richard]

"Of course I will pay out of my own wages. It is only fair to pay my employee with my own money." It sounded weird saying that. He had never had an employee before and now he was an employer of someone who did not have a clue about what the job entailed. This would be an interesting little experiment for him.

Richard was not sure why he wanted to help Daxen besides the fact that the guy looked like he needed all the help that he could get. "Don't worry Daxen. It is not going to be that hard. I just need someone to do some of the easier tasks that I don't really have time for." Richard would try and be patient with Daxen. "Let's start by introducing you to different types of weaponry. That will help you find a weapon that is suitable for someone like you."

[Angel]

Richard's response elicited a grin from Greg, and he ignored Daxen's uncertain tones. It was Richard's business, now, whether Daxen was actually up for learning the job or not. Greg didn't have to waste time and wallow around in the messy business of disposing of stowaway. Not that it wasn't fun, sometimes. "Good! We're all in agreeance, then. He'll work for you, you'll pay his salary, and we're happy all around. Sounds fantastic."

As Richard addressed Daxen, the Captain raked his eyes once more over the weapons selection sitting idly in the storage room. He had what he wanted, but it would finally be nice to have things cataloged and cared for. It'd been awhile since the last man had worked here. "It was a pleasure, men. However I need to go tend to my duties." Greg turned from the two of them, his mind already working to organize what needed to be done. He had given himself a small break time today, and he needed to finish some sketches on his tablet. The door to the weapons control room swished as he exited, leaving the two to their business.

[Daxen]

Daxen payed little to no attention to Greg's leave, occupied on staring around the room with mouth slightly open. All these weapons made him feel awkward and perhaps a little scared. Though he understood the necessity of weapons, violence always made him queasy. He preferred never to have to fight, but sometimes it's the only option. Especially on a ship such as this...

Suddenly remembering what he was originally here for in the first place, he took a careful look at the different types of weapons. There were guns, knives, bows, even some that he has seen only in textbooks. His eyes fell on a particular section of weapons: bo staffs, halberds, glaives. These weapons sparked a bit of deja vu in Daxen, though he just couldn't quite picture it completely.

Richard brought him out of his thought process though and he nodded awkwardly, "Oh, uh...s-sure, okay."