Dove - Cockpit
"I'm just trained for self-defense, but I know how to use my revolver.
"I practice my draw and I shoot at the range, but I don't really have 'combat training'. Though, where we're going we don't need to shoot from the saddle and guide our mount with our knees, do we?" She glanced sideways at Promise, though Chuck was still receiving most of her attention, having well earned it.
Flynn exhaled smoke, and shook his head.
"No. We're not mounting anything where we're going. Unless there's a firesale at the local brothel. Eheh... Kidding." Flynn snickered quietly whilst going through his pre-flight checks. He glanced at Dame sideways, noting her fixation on Chuck. "If you don't feel comfortable with a prolonged firefight, you're welcome to stay on the ship. Or leave now, if that's what you want. I don't care, honestly."
"Oh, and don't worry about Chuck. He's a guard dog, but now that he knows you, he'll leave you alone. Just avoid saying the word 'pineapples'- CHUCK. NO."
Chuck had once again lowered into an attack stance and began growling, squirming his way out of Promise's love-fest. When Flynn yelled at him, he whimpered slightly and resumed the cuddles, which he was quite enjoying. Flynn watched the dog for a few more moments to make sure the command had gone through properly before continuing.
"As I was saying, avoid using the 'P-word'. I trained him to attack when someone says it just in case I'm being held at gunpoint and it would be stupid to order him directly."
"You know the Buttonless Brigade, Sir? I dealt with them one or twice, I recall... Yeah, bounty hunter durin' the bigg-ol' mess after the war, see?" Easy, comforting tones. "Can hit three outta four guys at fiddy' feet usin' my slugger here, not even layin' down. Smaller varmints if they movin' slow."
A pause, as some cogs turned behind that vacantly wide green eye. There was literally no way to defeat such a pervasive smile, but she was also subtly wrapping an idle finger around her cruder prophetic claw, as if suddenly self conscious...
"...Left eye and right hand is fine, you know?" A mime demonstration of holding her gun, with her head at quite an odd angle to compensate for the disparity. "Been shootin' since I was wee tall, like I said, Sir! I wouldn' be volunteerin' if I din' think I was worthy!"
Yeah. Probably for the best that a lot of space guns still came with stocks.
"I dunno who those guys are, but I
do know what a bounty hunter is. That's good. If you're sure your handicaps won't slow you down, I don't care..."
"..."
"...Please, go put your shoes back on, and stop calling me 'sir'. Flynn will work just fine." Flynn ordered with a friendly grin after a few moments of silence. He leaned back in his chair, his checks completed, and the ship ready for launch. Now, where the hell was-?
Starport
Corgan ran up to the Dove with his duffel bag over his shoulder, Ragna-dog following close behind. He didn't see anyone outside but the ramp was still down. With a shrug, he walked up the ramp and into the ship. The Nepleslian Shepherd ran into the ship with him, sniffing the floor curiously.
A woman's voice echoing through the ship surprised him. He blinked and slowly walked towards the voice. "Hello? It's Corgan. Where's Flynn?"
"In here, Corgan!" Flynn called out from his chair. Chuck instantly recognized the other man's scent as a source of scratches, and so pried himself away from Promise to pad out into the hall. Flynn reached down and fired up the reactors, filling the ship with a low, mechanical hum.
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Dove-Main Hall
Chuck padded up to Corgan, tail wagging like mad. That's when he saw Ragna-dog. The smaller canine brought him great confusion. He tilted his head sideways, cautiously sniffing from a distance. The other dog had Corgan's scent on it, and thus was probably a friend of Corgan. Yet, why was there another dog in
his territory? Why had master not ordered him to "pineapples" yet?
Who tf is U? Chuck asked in non-verbal dog-speak.
