[h1][b][i][color=olivedrab][center]Ansgar Staudinger[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]

	Glaring at Andrea with a evil eye when she dared to mention trying to keep him from doing anything on the ship without talking to her first, his remark was rather pointed and blunt given the idea itself was absolutely absurd. That would be like expecting a cook to talk to the person who drove supplies to the kitchen before cooking, or the doctor to discuss the procedure with the damned janitor. The day he willingly went groveling to some jumped up flightstick fiddling, egotistical tosser like her, he'd swallow his own gun. "Oh, aye, ah'll jus' soddin' giv' up e'en t'e slig't'st o' repair's 'till ah've begged fer yer blessin'. Go stroke yer ego s'me mo'e, bitc', an' stic' to all yer good fer, ferryin' the adults w'ere t'ey need t' be. Glor'fied, 'xpend'ble taxi driv'r..." *

	The discussion on the Judge, who apparently was already on board the ship, continued as others arrived from their shore leave, bringing supplies and the like, mainly the point that the Judge would prioritize his mission over their little operation. As much as he didn't trust or enjoy having a Judge on board, it was a good point, though he had to offer a slight rebuttel, taking a minute to fish a coffin nail out from one of his pockets and light it, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke up into the air. He wouldn't just go trusting this Judge, even if he ended up aiding them along the way, government figures tended to not be the most reliable sort. "Aye, 'e'll not bot'er us, rig't 'till it suit's 'im to bot'er us. A'd keep 'least one good ey' on 'im, jus' t' be sure, savvy?" **

	The Captain's remark on his home brought a snort, whether of amusement or annoyance was hard to say as Ansgar got the last crate he had assigned to him loaded up, turning back to smirk rather off puttingly for a few moments, half smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth as he rebutted on her remark. Whether he was purely jesting or took offense to the remark was hard to say, though odds were he really didn't and was just mouthing off again. "O' aye, tras' talk me 'ome away from 'ome, ah'll not mind. Not at soddin' all Lass. T'is 'eap resupplied t'e s'ip, so ah' wouldn't be t' quick to disparage, aye? Ah'll be in t'e engine room if'n ye need me." ***

	With that, Ansgar took another drag, blowing the smoke outside before marching inside of the ship, making a beeline back towards the engine room, which was where he all but lived while they were in transit. He preferred being back there during transitions from space to docks, especially ground based ones, though fortunately the Hub wasn't by far one of the less rough exits for most ships that weren't strapped to it for long term stays. Barring corrupt or greedy 'officials' trying to bribe or steal what they can off those too stupid to know better, but that wasn't them. Once back in the engine room, he'd undo the top half of his heavy attire, tying it off like a waistband using the sleeves, leaving the tank top, and arms covered in tattoos, exposed. It got warm in the engine room, and he'd rather have the flexibility and dexterity of a tanktop and exposed arms than the dubious protections of the heavy attire he wore outside the engine room.



[hider=Translations]
* "Oh, aye, I'll just sodding give up even the slightest of repairs until I've begged for your blessing. Go stroke your ego some more, bitch, and stick to all your good for, ferrying the adults where they need to be. Glorified, expendable taxi driver..."

** "Aye, he'll not bother us, right until it suits him to bother us. I'd keep at least one good eye on him, just to be sure, savvy?"

*** "Oh aye, trash talk me home away from home, I'll not mind. Not at sodding all Lass. This heap resupplied the ship, so I wouldn't be too quick to disparage, aye? I'll be in the engine room if you will be needing me."
[/hider]