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The Dug regarded Woosie for a few moments before approximating a shrug, which jerked his entire torso. "Well, if you find yourself turning into an unguided munition, just remember that I told you so." he replied, turning at the captain's voice to get everyone the grand tour of the heap. Zekha had served on a ship similar to this once upon a time, so the layout wasn't a mystery to him; what he was looking for was defects. Falling in with the others, the newly anointed crew followed Varen as he lead them out of the spacious cargo hold into the comparatively claustrophobic halls of the ship. When he pointed out that the workshop wasn't just Woo'Rah's, a grin crept across Zekha's face. "Oh good. I'll try not to skip off work early to play with my toys... much." he remarked as they headed down the corridors.

The [I]Phoenix[/I] was definitely an old bucket of a ship that had been remarkably diligently as maintained and loved as the abysmal design would permit; over time, the prior crews definitely got fed up with trying to keep things presentable and instead as functional and accessible as possible. Paint was long gone in spots, wires were exposed but neatly sorted, panels had crudely bolted on latches rather than bolt heads, suggesting problem areas that needed to be accessed far more than anyone cared to fight with power tools for, anyways. 

The accommodations seemed to be satisfactory, anyways. Zekha's arrangement was very much a "sleep where you work" situation, prompting him to look at the Wookiee and the other Twi'lek. "Fair warning; I snore." he remarked flippantly in an attempt to discourage bunk mates. In truth, he could use the space away from Woosie to lay out his own personal work area and lay out his kit he didn't want the woman to lay her gross blue mitts on.  
 
"No questions here, Cap'n." Zekha remarked, returning his gaze to Varen for a moment before reconsidering. "Actually, outside of our proper duties, who gets assigned what for the more..." he twirled a finger around in thought, reaching for the right word. "Civic jobs. Cooking, cleaning, tucking in the Wookiee, that sort of crap. Rotating schedule, fixed? I also imagine there's going to be emergency drills and rolls so it's not just me trying to put out a dozen fires and seal hull breaches on my lonesome."