"Fifty cal," Hannah said dreamily. Lord above, she [i]loved[/i] fifty calibers. Not only did they mean big guns, and big guns were her one true love, but they also made excellent hand-to-hand weapons in the right situation. She herself was too small to do much damage with a punch, but get any kind of force behind a .50 Browning bullet and it was gonna go through flesh. 

She shook herself, tossing sandy hair out of her eyes as she smiled at the new passenger and pumped his hand enthusiastically. "Silas! I'll remember that. And I can take care of the rocket launchers and the lasers, don't you worry about that. Y'know, the other day I managed to get my hands on—"

[b]"Hannah, get the boy settled in and stow the explosives. I don’t want another 'whoops boom' in the cargo bay!”[/b]

Hannah cut herself off, flushing red and wincing as she dropped his hand. "That only happened once," she mumbled, scuffing her toe on the floor. "...maybe twice," she amended, then shook her head again, calling over her shoulder, "Aye-aye, Cap'n!" She turned, beckoning Silas forward as she headed towards the grav lockers—specifically installed to keep ordinance safe during flight. 

"You can put your gear in here," she said, inputting the passcode on one of the lockers and swinging the door open. It was the emptiest one they had, and even then, there were a few suspicious-looking boxes with 'Keep Out Please :)' written in Hannah's handwriting. She looked back to Silas, smiling at him. "Here, I'll help you with some of the boxes before we start the grand tour."

Benny waltzed by, saying something about her safe, and as usual, Hannah gave him her usual bright smile and wave. He never reciprocated, as far as she could tell, but she'd like to think it made him a little happier on the inside. Deep, deep inside.