[center][url=http://fontmeme.com/western-fonts/][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Old%20Ben&name=PISTOLGR.ttf&size=50&style_color=454F59[/img][/url][/center] [i]Bloody robots[/i] Ben thought, scowling at ANDI's interface. [i]Who gave that thing the right to keep me here?[/i] He'd never been one to move before he knew what was what, however, and decided to check the rest of the ship out before drawing any conclusion. As he was about to leave the room, Rain started talking. [i]The best? Bah, I've seen pilots who could fly circles around her, I don't doubt. Still, it's good to be confident.[/i] When she was done, he gave a shrug. "[color=slategray]I wouldnae want to make any claims so bold as being the best pilot there ever was but I'd say I'm fair good to have in a scrap, so long as I'm on your side. Yon computer says we'll be docking in three hours, so I suggest everyone acquaint themselves with the ship then suit up and warm up.[/color]" With that, he walked out and made for what was 'his' room. Arriving in it was... strange. Ben had a sense that he'd been here before but couldn't place any of the details. The little cabin was spartan, with no more comforts than a bed, a desk and a chair. The rest of the room was taken up with exercise machines; dumbbells, a chin-up bar, a balance board. All were serviceable and well used though Ben didn't recognise them. On the desk sat a stylus and some paper, alongside a set of tools Ben definitely remembered. The box contained his maintenance gear, a collection of tools, specialised and otherwise, for repairing and maintaining everything he owned. There were needles, thread, polish, brushes, screws, tweezers, sprays and an array of clothes for a myriad of different uses. With this kit he could keep his guns in pristine condition, his boots sealed and tough, his clothes thick and warm and his mind in good shape. Nothing helped soothe the agitation of purposelessness than caring for something he owned. Even looking at the kit now, he could feel some of his frustration at the mysteriousness of his current situation melting away. [i]Can't stand around doing nothing all the live long day[/i] he thought with a sigh. First things first, he reclaimed all the small holdout weapons he liked to have concealed on his person, all of which had been carefully laid out in one of the desk drawers. Knife, pistol, knife, flashbang, knife, grenade, knife. All slotted away into different places in his suit and boots. With them equipped, he felt considerably more self assured. Anyone attempting to put him away in cryo-sleep again would have another thing coming. Secondly, he decided to make a few... precautions. Selecting a suitable blade, he went back to the cryo chamber and concealed it within his pod, near the floor. It wasn't immediately obvious to the naked eye but a quick search of the pod would reveal it. He'd have to hope they were less thorough about searching the pods than they would be about his searching his clothes. Next stop, the armoury. Despite living his entire life surrounded by them and using them constantly to great effect, Ben wasn't particularly fond of guns. People thought of them as symbols of power and might, as things that instantly made your problems smaller. In old Ben's experience, guns mostly just brought a whole new world of problems with them. Still, he wasn't going to let some silly self examination stop him from examining the contents of the armoury. Stepping inside, he immediately knew one thing; whoever paid for this ship was loaded. There was everything; breaching charges, assault shotguns, laceration mines, sniper rifles, tear gas, rail guns. And in the corner, leaning against a wall, Ben's constant companion; Nessie. A treasured assault rifle, Nessie was one of the few guns still in common use to fire solid slugs rather than lasers or plasma. Of course, she didn't just shoot lead, her bullets were hollow-points containing small explosive packages that could blow the head of a rhino. Still, Ben always felt a twinge of superiority when laser guns fizzled and failed but Nessie kept on blazing away. Quickly moving through a few routine checks, such as snapping back the slide and adjusting the sights, Ben spoke aloud to the ship computer. "[color=slategray]ANDI, you there? I want to know a wee bit more about this 'research station' and who will be on it. I'm no going to go into a firefight blind, d'ya ken?[/color]"