Aría

I hear something from the winged kid and snort at the question.

"She's an Elvhen. They're an asshole race of assassins that specialize in using older weapons such as swords and bows, though they usually put a more modern twist on them." I completely ignore the ork; damn plant people. I flip around my guns, twirling them in elaborate motions not unlike butterfly knives, and speak to the boy again. "Oh, and speak for yourself. No way in hell am I getting on a ship with an Elvhen. You could say that my experiences with them haven't been, well...pleasant, and by that I mean that one of them tried to shoot me in the eye. Repeatedly. Then they tried to cut me in half. I think I'll take my chances on Taryn, thanks. At least I know where to get some bullets and don't have to follow someone else's rules." Finally, I turn to the guy with the sniper rifle. 

"Some idiot somewhere in the galaxy probably released some kind of supervirus. Probably someone from Earth; Earth people like doing stupid shit. Anyway, guess I'll be seeing you guys, unless someone decides to come along. At least I won't try to assassinate you."

I finish loading up two spare clips of bullets and shove them in my pockets, separating them from my seemingly-endless supply of high-caliber rounds, then begin to walk casually in the other direction, twirling the guns one more time and then holstering them.