The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Serious RP => Topic started by: MrRazot on August 21, 2014, 09:46:22 PM
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Act 1
The Castea Space port is famously known for it's estranged beauty. A lone synthetic moon orbiting the dying blue sun of a civilisation long extinct. The Castea was found when radiowaves that had been travelling many millennia had finally hit one of the neighbouring solar systems. It had even hit the Human's planet Earth at some point, but they were all still too primitive to have decoded it.
The outer layers of Castea are used for mostly trade and where some of he best hotels in the known galaxy can be found. Moving inward are where the pilots hang out telling stories and smaller markets run. The core in inaccessible to most people except the engineers who work daily to keep everything running and not crashing into a dying sun.
Some say there is a darkness in the depths if Castea where drug lords, smuggling circles and trafficking rings hide in plain sight, praying on anyone looking for easy credits or the unlucky pilot who leaves their ships unattended for too long.
There is however also a lot of hope for anyone trying to make a living from flying cargo. Castea is indeed the trading centre of the galaxy and is flocked with everyone from mercenaries to explorers trying to make it big. Anyone can be anything and Castea was the place to start.
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Caspar walked down the corridors of the spacestation, observing the area. He was looking for work in pretty much anything. He found a small bar and ordered a glass of milk, drinking it quickly, he was parched. He paid for it, asking the barman if their was any work around here. "Sorry kid, not on the spacestation itself, but you might be able to get something on a cargo ship around here." The fox replied, cleaning a glass. Caspar walked off, asking for jobs. He needed money badly, he wanted to get a degree in mathematics. But university cost money, which was something that wasn't exactly in abundance in his family. He considered loan sharks, but decided he wouldn't as he didn't particularly want his kneecaps broken. He sat down on a bench and sighed, swishing his tail slightly.
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A velociraptor with white feathers on his body, blue feathers on the end of his tail and the back of his head and black hands and feet, both of which were featherless, was walking down a different corridor within the space station. As he did, he looked at possible crews he could work with, however, not very many managed to catch his interest. Especially the crew that looked like it had a bunch of guys that could snap his neck like a twig without even trying, so he kept searching. Eventually, he found himself walking into the hangar of the space station as he figured now would be a great time to look there. Even though him searching there first would have made this go by a lot quicker.
Eventually, he started to feel his heart get a little heavy as he began to doubt his chances of getting a job with a crew. He didn't want to go back without some sort of job to to keep the hotel roof over his head. Nor did he want to go back more poor than the people that couldn't even afford to live within the cities. So instead of giving up then and there, he went ahead and sat down on a small metal crate within the hangar while waiting for an opportunity to come by and save his day.
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Perry was thrown to the floor outside of his favourite bar (until now) in the whole of the station.
"you'll be contacted" said one of the bouncers.
"Don't let us see you here again" the other said before slamming the door.
"Damnit" Perry said to himself under his breath.
This was the last contact he had to follow up and things hadn't exactly seemed to have gone well. Sure he'd broken all three rules of job searching: all three being "be discreet".
At least he still had his ship for now. Today was the last day before it would be impounded and fined and the day was if anything nearly through.
Perry picked himself up and dusted the dirt off his jacket. He decided perhaps to just go to his ship and get the pre-flight going so he could just take off whenever he needed, pursued or not. He'd tried to be clear about that he had a fairly fast ship that he'd been told used to belong to some pirate before he was taken down in a massive bust a few years ago. The ship had been sold for scrap, but Perry'd managed to secure it and get it flying again.
Even when he'd arrived the docking security had taken extra measures down to the ship being unable to be read on their systems.
For now he'd decided to perhaps spend the rest of his time looking for something along the lines of a crew. The past few journeys had been fairly lonely. Not that it mattered that much...
He decided to grab a bench while he checked his PDA to see how his funds were doing, not good. 2 notifications had however popped up. One said he had 4 hours left before his ship would be impounded and the other was in regards to some cargo that had been taken to be loaded onto his ship. Perhaps someone had taken pity on him? Perhaps it was just a mistake, he'll sort it out when he gets back.
Perry rubbed the side of his head, he seemed to have bashed it when he was thrown to the floor.
"oooh" he said to himself, closing one eye and applying pressure to what was probably going to turn into a bruise.
At least it wasn't the worst thing to happen to him.
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Reice was delivering a package for the outdoor bar he worked for.
He was told to carry a White, Plaster Box filled Bugdorian Malt, Alistair's Wine, and Rita's Margaritas.
On the way to the batr carrying the package in his arms, he slips on an empty glass from the bar's trash pile and drops the box, smashing it open. 'Great, i'm getting fired for this one." Reice picked up two bottles of Alistair's Wine and went to his boss, saying: 'Hey boss. How ya doin? I delivered that package for ya, it's waiting outside and I quit, hope you have a nice day byyee!'
Reice quickly walked out of the bar room knowing the boss would be furious, so he told everyone to slow down the boss until he left the area. 'Gotta find a new occupation. Maybe a crew, a full time, permanent, happy crew. And hopefully not some mercs who care about themselves.'
All of the commotion from trade and travel in the space station made it more lively than a Mass Effect Citadel reference.
The fact that all types of galaxians and aliens from different worlds came here to trade, even meet up with and talk to old friends.
The people on earth were living okay though, with the new technologies and stuff. Reice then spread his arms and flapped his wings a bit. 'I know just what to do, i'll find me a captain! But with what i'm wearing I doubt he'd accept me.'
Reice was wearing a torn brown jacket ontop of a cleanish grey thick T-shirt, Along with some pants that seemed to be made of pearls, they glowed a blue and shined a green. The clothes were hand downs anyways, nothing he'd truly wear but they fit.
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Caspar turned his head and saw the Peregrine Falcon being thrown out. "Poor guy." He said, and after 5 minutes of debating, he went over to him. "Um... Hello. I-I'm Caspar, are you okay? Those bouncers threw you out kinda roughly. Do you want me to take you to the medical bay?" He asked, stammering a little. He then saw the impoundment notification on the falcon's PDA. "You know I could make security forget all about your impoundment of your ship. I want just one thing in return, to be part of your crew." he whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear his potential act of vandalism. "What do you say?"
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Misha watched the falcon sitting alone on a bench outside the bar, he looked rather worse for wares. The painted otter leaned against a discarded stack of shipping crates as she watched him in silence. Occasionally her plain outer-rim clothing received the odd glance or look from passers by, but she ignored them and instead watched closely. A white lion had approached the peregrine and sat down beside him.
"Query: That's the guy you want?" The little droid hovering beside her spoke in a tinny crackling voice. It's blue photoreceptor eye glowed as it turned to Misha and gave an obviously disapproving bleep.
"Yep, he's the guy. Just keep quiet and let me do the talking B-2." She replied with a sigh and started to walk over. Now was as good a time as ever.
Lush greenery and exotic plants spilled out over a low-walled section of public gardens opposite the bench and bars. Fan leaf trees provided some shade from the bright synthetic sunlight. Misha sat down and crossed one leg over the other, her tail swishing anxiously as she waited a moment and then looked across to the peregrine falcon.
"Hey, you're the guy who got kicked out on his face back there." She spoke matter-of-factly, glancing briefly to the white lion. He appeared to be in the middle of a whispered conversation. Turning back to the peregrine she shrugged. "You really don't want to go to the medical bay, overpriced and a slow service to boot."
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Perry was startled by the sudden attention. Perhaps he'd been knocked harder than he thought, but there were two people who weren't there before. This thoughts had been on the PDA and had hardly heard either the Lion or Otter talking to him.
"Thanks, but I should be fine" he said picking up the last few things he heard, standing up to face them, somewhat a mix of politeness and surprise, while rubbing his shoulder.
"My ship isn't impounded yet, but..." he paused and stared at them both "...but..." he tried walking a bit only to find there was a limp to his step and sharp pain where there shouldn't be one. He decided to sit down again.
"I'm terribly sorry but could you both help me to my ship?"
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Misha watched the Peregrine with a bemused smile, cocking her head to one side slightly as he got unsteadily to his feet and sat quickly back down. She glanced sidelong at the Lion again and stood up with a swish of her tail. "Ok, just try not to move your arm too much there. We'll get you back to your ship."
Stooping next to him Misha took out a small patch of white plastic and applied it to the Peregrine's forehead, a numbing sensation slowly overcame the worst of the bruising pain. All the while the little B-2 medical droid hovered around them, assessing Perry with a hum as it flitted back and forth through the air.
"Statement: Subject displaying symptoms of mild concussion... Other possibilities include this subject is simply dim-witted, his estimated IQ does appear rather low-"
With an aggravated sigh Misha swatted the machine away and helped Perry to his feet. Carefully she placed his arm over her shoulder before looking pointedly at Caspar for help, muttering. "Just tell us the way."
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Taking a sip of his free wine, Reice walked over to the Porting Bay.
"Well I weonder what we'll see here today, ey people?" *knowing nobody was even listening to him he just continued walking*
"Mmmm, these ships are amazing, this one has a live.. ornament on it's hood.. I don't think it ever was alive.
Ooh, this ship is beautiful! It's got an antique feel with a fresh composition, err reconstruction.. whoever owns this ship is pretty cool.
I haven't seen ships like these since I was a kid, it's got so much age but it looks fine."
Reice looks over, wondering who the owner is, and notices a White Lion, Falcon and an Otter holding up the falcon. Curiously he walks over and asks: "Hey, is he okay?" This looks bad wearing a ripped jacket and holding a bottle of wine, But it's non-alchoholic. Reice thought. "Anyone need help?"
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Caspar nodded and began helping the Peregrine to walk. He placed his avian companion's arm around his shoulder, struggling a little. He wasn't very strong, but then again, growing up in abject poverty did rather have a tendency to dash your hopes of having a decent physique. He glanced at the Otter, intrigued by her. He had never seen one like her before. But still, for all he knew, she was an undercover Security agent. He didn't particularly want them to find out it was he who was snooping through their database earlier this week. This is what tended to happened when he was bored, he'd find something difficult to do and he would just do it. He enjoyed Sudoku, but he had just finished all the books the shop had. The algebra one was tricky, but still not very satisfying. He turned to the falcon, curious about him. "W-What's your name?" He asked, his stammer coming through.
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The ship Jeffrey was in stank. It stank predominately of rust, but there were other smells that he could not identify (nor did he care to).His Hardsuit, unfortunately, detected a breathable atmosphere so it filtered any toxins, but the smell of whatever it is came along with it.
The cargo he was delivering was in an even worse state (if that was even possible) than the ship he was in. Or at least the container that he had been given to take to this ship (he had been given strict orders to not open it,). He was pretty sure that he had been given the wrong location, but he checked his Hardsuit’s computer for the umpteenth time, and again, he was in the place it told him to be. This mission began seeming more and more like a setup
He would contact his employer, but he had been given this location by an anonymous number, and the package by some hooded man that he never got to know his face or name (he didn't even know if this ship is a transport or a meeting place.). This all stunk of illegality, and he had no connections to keep him safe if the Castean Civil authority came rolling in. His best defense would be that he didn't know, and that was not likely at all to warrant him anything other than an “That sucks” as they threw him in jail, and robbed him of his most expensive possessions. Still, the pay was good enough so that he was willing to risk it. So he found a somewhat comfortable and somewhat non-dirty spot with a good view of all entrances and exits, and he sat down, placed his pulse rifle within easy reach, and got ready to wait for whatever, or whoever came from wherever to do who the hell knows what.
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"Oh sorry... My name...owch ... is Perry"
He glanced quickly at the two helping him, trying to read their faces, then ushered them to stop for a moment.
"The H-Tram Station should just be around the corner, I think it's that one that will take us to the Hanger bay my ship was at"
He looked puzzled for a second
"Or was it the one around the last corner?"
The H(over)-Tram System was already notorious for being annoyingly confusing, and while many visitors to Castea had lodged complaints with the governing body, very little was done as complaints were usually disregarded on the terms of "they're probably not here for long" or "they should bloody well learn the schedule then".
That was usually easier said than done though as who ever designed the map and schedule had obviously never looked at a map, or understood what a map was indeed supposed to do.
"Yea I think it's this one" Perry said finally, leading them onwards.
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"Query: Are we really going to help this vagabond? I must question your judgement when it comes to assisting people who have just been thrown out of an establishment."
B-2 floated alongside the trio, occasionally directing a derisive comment towards anyone who would listen. Misha simple tried to ignore the little medical droid and instead focussed on following Perry's directions.
Every now and then she could see the white lion glance surreptitiously her way as they walked, although this was not something she was unaccustomed to. Many people this side of the galaxy seemed unable to prevent themselves outright staring when they saw the cream Ly'trah markings of her fur, many of them were also men, she mused. Anyway, the Lion seemed young and had a rather underfed look about him. She sighed and simply listened to Perry as they walked towards the landing hangars. What she would do for travel on a ship these days...
"Statement: The subject still appears to be short of memory units, are you sure he is really a ship captai-?"
At this Misha finally lunged for the hovering nuisance and slapped the droid to her hip, securing it despite the best of struggles to her belt. "That's quite enough now I think..." She sighed again, shifting to help keep Perry propped up as a strange lizard mammal hybrid approached. He seemed to be asking if they needed help. With a flick of her tail she glanced over the stranger's garish coloured clothing, totally at odds to the subdued traditions of the outer rim that she had always known.
They really seemed to be gathering an unusual amount of attention. Normally the sight of two people helping another walk haphazardly back to his ship from the bars wouldn't have got a second look at most space stations.
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"You're a Ly'trah Otter, aren't you?" Caspar asked, remembering his neighbours being a pair of Ly'trah Otters a while ago before his house was burned down. He didn't like how much attention they were getting, his laser pistol wasn't exactly reliable, plus he couldn't hit the side of a barn wall unless it was point blank range. It was really more for show than anything. He glared at the little disc shaped robot. He didn't like robots. He did not trust them, they didn't have faces, so they could easily lie to you and you would not even know it. "Your robot has quite the bitchy personality." He said grunting slightly as he continued to try and support the falcon. He was in Caspar's opinion, fat. But he wouldn't say that to him, not unless he wanted to be cleaning decks for the foreseeable future.
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Fully standing up straight, Reice fixes his 'low profile' appearance, or somewhat dirty looking.
Reice, looked at the Tan mammal, and the white Lion before making an assumptory statement.
"I do honestly apologize for my apparel, I work with shipments and you're not really required to wear certain clothing."
Reice continued to look at the Tan mammal, wondering what species she could be, and the fact that she had an intriguing mini droid on her hip.
Reice simply blinked and wondered, marveling at the mini droid. "I wonder what made that droid, it's impressive
"I also, don't have much money.. because I didn't get paid alot, so that could explain my clothes."
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Perry squinted his great eyes as he affixed them on the Lizardy Jackal figure as he approached, only to open them widely in almost a bit of a shock.
"Reice?" Perry said, shaking himself of his two helpers and limping his way towards the familiar face.
"Is that you? It's been years! Do you even remember me?"
He grimaced at the pain of his leg and supported himself with a flapping of his arms. His head was also feeling a bit fuzzy.
"these are my... friends!" he said, clapping his hands and turning to his companions.
"But come now, come with us to my ship, I need to show her to you, we're just around the corner."
Perry stumbled on ahead almost disregarding the 3 companions. He wanted to show off his ship to them.
The Great Hangerbay of Castea has changed quite a lot over the years with more focus on advertising the station to new comers with adverts of happy people and beautiful plantations. There were as many benches as there were overpriced travel agents, cargo bays and valet services. There were also many viewing platforms where you could watch the incoming and outgoing ships as they move around the docks. Perry's ship was one among millions and in his eyes, one in a million. This opinion was however probably only his as it honestly looked as though it could do with a new paint job. At least he had a ship.
Perry had done his best to lead them to a viewing platform that you could see his ship from.
Perry had a bit of an odd ship, just a bit smaller than a small cargo ship and just a bit bigger than a cruise ship. He'd bought it on his home planned just the other year for an absolute bargain. It had belonged to a once long feared pirate from long ago. The ship had been stripped and then sold at auction after capture of the pirate and from there it exchanged many hands. The tech was old, but it was fairly fast and could take a bashing.
"there she is in bay F4-21" he said pointing at the grey/brown ship and sitting himself down in one of the benches, placed for ship-spotters.
"The Could Wolf"
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"He knows me...." Reice pondered for a second at the Falcon. He was trying hard to remember the bird, he felt familiar but he couldn't point out why. He smiled at the fact there was someone he knew here. "I uhh, man I have a feeling I know you.. what is your name? Haha!" It has been years since Reice has seen any of his old friends. Reice had shortly retired from making shipments and deals to people since one of em was an old drug bust. He then fought in a small task force that was nowhere near military level but it paid him well. Then recently he began doing shipments for reliable businesses, that is until he quit today.
"Old buddy, if I could remember your name it would make me feel better," Directing his attention to the helpers who were walking with him "you guys must ave been helping him walk to his ship. Come now! Lets get to his ship!"
"Oh, your injury!" Reice took off his dusty, old, holed-up jacket and tied it around (perry's) waist to try to support his leg.
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Misha watched from aside as Perry greeted the stranger like an old friend, gesturing this way and that theatrically. She couldn't help but wince every time the falcon stumbled and flapped at the pain.
With a sigh she folded her arms across her chest and glanced at the white Lion beside her. "Yes, actually. Ly'trah or just 'Painted Otter' might be easier to remember..." She grinned slightly at his obvious discomfort and raised her eyebrow, "...If you think he's heavy, be glad it's not me who's hurt." She huffed a laugh at that despite herself. If Caspar thought the falcon captain as fat, then who knows what he thought of her own full figure. As though suddenly remembering where she was she coughed into her paw sheepishly, then turned back to the falcon and his new-found best friend.
Perry had finally started to lead the small group past rows of windows that looked over the ship hangars. Misha returned her gaze curiously to the white lion as they walked. "Not many people this side of the galaxy would recognize a painted otter... What was your name?" She paused after speaking. The falcon's ship was finally in view. Her bright blue eyes roved over the ship's pitted and scarred surface, huge patches of hull plating completely bare of paint and dark streaks surrounded the thrusters and exhaust ports. Despite it's appearances the thing had a distinct ruggedness that reminded her of the outer rim where she was born.
At least it looked like it might fly...
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"It looks really dirty. Seriously, get a cut on that thing and you'll be infected before you can blink." Caspar said, wrinkling his nose slightly. It had a rustic sort of charm to it, his Dad would probably love tinkering with it. He then turned his attention back to the Ly'trah Otter. "My name is Caspar. And I recognize your species because I have grown up around them ."
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Terran, while looking around, eventually took notice in the group gathering around the ship. At this point, he was willing to accept crew that looked like they would actually accept him. So with a sigh, he hopped off of the crate he sat on and proceeded to walk over to the group. As he did, he immediately began to think of the negative things that could happen to him for joining the wrong crew and get on a ship that looked like it wouldn't last in an asteroid belt for more than two seconds. Once he reached them though, he decided to trash all of those bad thoughts and asked them in a quiet voice, "Hi...Are you guys the crew of this ship?" He couldn't help but frown as he could stared at the poor conditioned ship. He said nothing though as he did not want to be offensive to people he was just now meeting.
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Perry rose slowly, his face seemed to lose the jolliness, as it melded into a determined gaze towards the Velociraptor.
"This is my ship and I do so happen to be looking for crew," He said it hoping to address as many people as possible.
"I need to take off soon or I'll be stuck here."
He walked slowly towards the Hangerbay to where he would have to present his ID to the docking control. He would have to take account of anyone who would come with him.
"Any crew" the security officer asked routinely as Perry showed his documents before turning to the group that had gathered. He wasn't sure if this had been his plan to get a crew. They'll find out he's just about broke later on, but that was an issue to address later on. Maybe they could work together towards something.
"Anyone?"
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"I'm part of his crew." Caspar said quickly, wanting to get off of this space station. He looked at the others, hoping.they would follow his lead. "Oh yeah? What do you do on the ship, then?" The guard asked, probably disbeliving him due to the fact that he looked like a thirteen year old. He hadn't planned for this contingency. He had to think of something that didn't need any qualifications, since Caspar had none. "Janitor." He blurted out before he could stop himself. Now he had done it. He said the one thing he didn't want to do. He hoped it would convince Mr. Skeptical in front. "You look like you're only good for something menial, you're on." The guard said. Caspar wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy of the statement, hut held his tongue. Best not disturb the hornet's nest.
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In a very leisurely manner Reice walks up to the side of the guard and taps his shoulder
"Im a friend of the falcon's, i'd recognise those ruffled feathers anywhere. Anyways, I work with packages and shipments."
The guard looks at Reice as if he was bluffing and states: You don't look like someone who lifts, or even knows anybody! So tell me, what do you do?
slightly irritated at the guard Reice stands up straight and stretches his wide shoulders.
"That's because I hunch over alot... and I lift packages, I move shipments. And the Raptor there is my spotter. ALWAYS with me!"
Ok, Ok.. go on ahead. The guard wonders who else could be part of the crew.
*Loud whistle* "Hey... princey, potter, poncey, pottery ry ry ry pore pear.... PERRY!! I Remembered! Oh, Raptor guy, please, if you will.. follow me." Reice only told the guard a half lie but it was believable apparently. He just wanted the Raptor on the crew.
Stepping by the white lion, Reice asks him: "What's your name, bud?" Then whispers "You won't have to clean anything."
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Terran blinked as he realized he was being lied about to the guard. He didn't say anything though as he had a feeling that he wanted to be in the crew and he didn't want to spoil it for Reice, plus, he wasn't much of a talker. Terran followed Reice as commanded to before listening to his question closely to avoid answering with a stupid answer. Smiling lightly after thinking up of a response in a few seconds, he said to Reice, "My name is Terran, I'm a Technician and I'm twenty one years old. Can you tell me about yourself now?"
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Jeffrey sat, and as he often did, he browsed the holo-net. For example, Right now, as he was waiting in this piece of (s)crap ship, he had a military history book playing. It was about some old human conflict, about 400 years ago.
it was about two big nations going up against each-other because one of them killed a bunch of people because of it's religious beliefs. Being a former soldier of a former earth colony, he was well versed in such things.
His train of though was interrupted, by a group of people entering the ship bay. He quickly paused his audiobook with the correct sequence of blinks, and had His hard-suit's computer run a biometric scan of them. Within a few minutes, he had all of their names and recent histories. They had no apparent criminal past, no apparent military training, and little in the way of weapons.
If they do decide to come into this ship, they will likely decide to enter via the cargo bay. If they meant him harm, he could fire off his revolver. The loud sound combined with the enclosed space would most likely disorient them long enough for him to get in a position behind them.
He wouldn't be affected, because his hard-suit would block out the noise. If they didn't mean him harm... Crap he hadn't thought about that... And that's more likely too.
He would greet them, rifle at the ready, but not pointing at them. Helmet on, with the red glowing eyes for the extra intimidation power.
And then there's the possibility that they might not even come in here, in which case he will just go ahead and keep listening to his book.
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Caspar turned to the Jackal, and whispered back. "My name is Caspar. I don't mind working, I need a job and I am not qualified enough to do anything but mop floors and such, I'm only 18." He quickly snuck past the guard and saw a person in a suit of armor. Caspar had learned to become very alert, due to the fact that he grew up in a poor neighbourhood and if he didn't keep his wits about him, especially late at night he would probably end up robbed, raped and murdered. Nutcases did that to you. He saw the rifle, and therefore presumed military training. Best keep away...
-
Reice patted Terran's back and then patted Caspar's shoulder. "Give it a couple days, maybe a week and everything will feel somewhat normal."
Suddenly takes a deep breath with a long sigh afterwards. I think you two might have more talent than you say.
Like you, Caspar.. i'm sure you already noticed certain things here that seem a little out of place here. Like me..
i'm wearing this ugly jacket and these bright pearlescent pants, ha. You, Terran, you might be good at listening and seeing or operating a computer.. I don't know, but you guys are very young and can still gain talents."
Reice looks back, out the ship, and looks at the female with the mini droid.
"Hey.. do any of you know what species she is? I've NEVER seen any fur like that out here. Im not interested, just curious.. might put that, err her species in my notepad.. once I get one." Reice began thinking of his lone brother and getting money from him.